A Certain Holiday Season
by Major Major Major Major
Summary: As winter descends on Academy City, the war between Magic and Science has cooled. Kamijou Touma's efforts to enjoy the relative calm are shattered in predictable fashion by the abrupt entrance of Misaka Mikoto. Together they brave the perils of the Christmas season, but behind the scenes something dark broods. Something dark and... yet... Christmas-y? Note: Set after NT12
1. Part 1: Chapter 1

**A Certain Holiday Season: Part 1: Advent**

 **Themes: Humour/Romance/Adventure**

 **Greetings, potential readers, or those who clicked the wrong link hoping for something else! This is a story, and it's the first one I've tried to write in quite a long time. It's also my first work not based entirely off my own thoughts: I never expected I'd like something enough to want to attempt a fanfiction of it, but here we are! I've gotten quite a bit of this down already (8 chapters as of publishing, though those mostly need a lot of editing. Seriously, the fact that I can't indent paragraph's is freaking me out), and I plan to at least double that length for the rest with the plans I have. That said, please read the following note for a few warnings.**

 **NOTE: This contains some spoilers for the light novel up to and including NT 12, and is set directly after. Consider it an alternative take on the next book, with its writing started before NT 13 came out. Sort of a diverging path, where the current Big Bad's don't move so quickly, and there is a bit of time for relative normality in Academy City. I started writing this about 2 weeks ago; essentially because I felt Christmas would be too good a chance to pass up writing about. As far as style goes, I'm trying to blend my own personal habits with the original authors, both as an exercise to improve my own and a way to explore different methods. I try to avoid using "He said" "She said" by making it clear who is talking without that, but I understand it may be hard to follow if I make mistakes. Please, let me know if a simpler, clearer style is better. Finally, characterization is intended to be as close as possible to the light novels and anime, though to a fair degree I am investigating some of the implied though processes and internal debates behind what is readily visible. Note that major developments in NT are used to justify some character growth, in a way that I felt made sense. All input is appreciated. I reserve the right to ignore abuse, but I plan to take everything in mind when adjusting my work later. After all, what is your writing if not an attempt to speak to your readers?**

 **Also, although I'm going to follow the author lead in always introducing characters fully, I'm assuming a fairly high level of familiarity with most characters and the general setting, plus their naming conventions. That said, I am fairly likely to get some things wrong, so feel free to let me know. Hopefully I remain accurate enough that no massive rewrites are necessary, but that is never certain, is it?**

 **Disclaimer: if it is not abundantly obvious, I own nothing involving Toaru Majutsu no Index, not it's characters, setting, or stories. No profit is being made, no rights intending to be infringed. Kazuma Kamachi has those honours, and to him we are thankful for his work. This is just a tribute.**

Format:

Normal text is narration

"Quotes for speech"

 _Italics for thought_

 **Bold for emphasis, rarely used.**

In all cases, a new paragraph means a new speaker or thinker. When in doubt, look for the... drought? Of text between spaces? I don't know.

Lastly, this should remain T rated throughout: it might get a little actiony-er than that rating implies, but this ain't gonna get too... touchy, even if it is fairly romantic.

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

 **Chapter 1**

4:30 P.M, December 20th: Academy City

Though the evening air was chill and the sky overcast, comforting warmth filled the streets of Academy City. A light snow gently dusted its buildings and parks, drifting around street lights and decorations to shine in festive colours. Cleaning robots ensured the major paths were clear for the nearly 2.3 million students doing their Christmas shopping, but were otherwise programmed to let a thin blanket build for holiday effect. Consumerism was crammed everywhere onto the billboards of the corners stores and department centres, flashing neon promises of good cheer and better savings. The combined effect was all lost, however, on a certain Level 0, who as usual was wrapped up in his own bad luck as he ambled through his most familiar park.

"Such misfortune…" Kamijou Touma muttered to himself for not the first time that day. "…Now that I've spent so much on these supplies, I don't know what I'm going to do about a nice Christmas dinner. Index might just eat me instead..." He hung his head again and sighed heavily, shivering slightly before tucking the back of his jacket into his belt with his right hand, since the other was occupied with a small plastic bag. There was nothing he could do if Index convinced herself Touma was a roast turkey or some other traditional western food. Not even Imagine Breaker, the mysterious power in the right hand that could break any illusion, would help. And he only had 5 days before it was too late: the holidays can be a difficult time for a man without any luck. "At least Othinus doesn't eat much."

Before he made it halfway along the parks path, Touma overheard a familiar Kiai[1] and the sound of what could only be a vending machine surrendering to abuse. Softly smiling ,he took a slight detour to find Misaka Mikoto holding two cans in front of her second favourite victim. She regarded each closely with her back to Touma, clearly undecided between the two, but hadn't yet noticed his approach. _Looks like she can't make up her mind,_ he thought to himself. _Maybe I could help? I should probably let her know I'm coming, though, or I'm liable to get attacked again. That might save me a good bit of trouble, seeing as I'm her other favourite target…_

Touma's quiet planning and good-natured obliviousness had its usual consequences. While considering how to avoid surprising her, he had managed to stroll within a foot of Mikoto. Just before bumping into her he stopped and recognized the danger _._ _Oh crap. I'll step back a little bit, then-_

Of course, by then it was too late, for Mikoto had just taken her own step backwards. Without looking she was going to turn and bump straight into Touma, who could only foresee disastrous consequences. Caught between countless bad decisions he predictably made the worst, freezing in place and shouting a little too loudly a warning.

"Oy, Biribiri!?" Touma raised his hands to block her from completely crashing into him, but his plans were foiled. Instead of continuing towards him Mikoto jumped a foot away in surprise, blushing brightly with a loud meep and some stray arcs of current. As she recoiled, both cans she had been carrying launched into the air, and for a moment time froze.

 _H-h-him!? Here!? What the Hell!? …Oh-?_

 _Oh boy, now I've done it, I've – Hmm?_

Each noticed the cans at the same time.

 _My drinks! I_ … _wait, I can't let them hit him! That'd be so embarrassing! I've got to-_

 _If those spill I'm fried!_ _But if I save them… maybe I too will be saved!? I've got to-_

Mikoto had thrown the drinks both up and towards Touma, well over his head. He reached up to catch them while staggering slowly back like an outfielder, just as Mikoto dashed forward arms outstretched. Both of them were looking up, and not at each other. Touma just for a second got his hands on the drinks, when a certain scientific railgun slammed into his chest.

 _…Eh?!_

 _…Uh oh._

Once again the drinks flew into the air, thrown this time by Touma's fall. He landed hard on the park's walkway, with Mikoto's face squarely in his chest. She lay sprawled over him, completely crimson, and even Touma couldn't repress a blush. His left arm was locked under her body, and he was only partially propped up by his right. For a brief instant their eyes met, and Touma knew the face of his demise. But before the sparks could fly…

…His eyes flickered up again, and the shock on his face turned to determination. The sudden transition was enough to make Mikoto hesitate. He looked like he had countless other times, when she or others had been in danger. When he had thrown away his own safety to protect another's smile. _Oh… A-a-ah, what I am thinking?! I'm furious at him, damnit! B-but, is he actually w-worried about m-m-!"_

With a flash his right arm reached up behind her head, and his brave smile was all Mikoto could see. Her heart skipped a beat as she could only assume he was moving in for intimacy. _W-w-what? L-l-like this?! But but I'm not bracedforthis, thisishappeningsofast,butbuthe'sso-huh..?_

A solid thump behind her head distracted Mikoto once again. It hit her in a flash: he had caught one of the drinks that had fallen: she had been so anxious she hadn't even noticed with her powers the tin can barrelling down. Touma had seen the danger and as usual acted decisively to protect those he cared about. However, equally in character was his failure to consider his own safety. One can had been caught, but the second made a perfect landing directly on his forehead.

As the cloud of snow stirred by their collapse settled and the dented can rolled awkwardly down the walkway, Touma blinked away a few tears to grin bravely at Mikoto's wide eyed stare.

"Eheh…Happy holidays?…Uhm, Biri-biri… Are you…Why are you… Laughing!? …Such misfortune."

After they had both recovered sufficiently (him from the swollen lump on his brow and her from side splitting laughter), Mikoto collected the drinks from Touma. Still smiling a little stupidly, she chuckled while comparing them once again. The dented can was hot cocoa, while the other was warm apple cider. As he finished brushing the snow from his backside, she tossed him the chocolate which he caught this time in his right hand.

"Well idiot, I guess you're good for something after all. You made my choice a lot easier."

"Well, you know I'm just glad I could help and all. No harm no foul, right?" Touma could only chuckle, though his forehead was still throbbing. "I'm sorry I scared you, by the w.-eh?" His lopsided grin and momentary sense of safety were both shattered by Mikoto's sudden light show as she readied an attack. Reacting quickly to her strike, he interposed his Imagine Breaker be belatedly realizing his mistake. The electricity was weak, but it was enough to charge the hot chocolate can he still firmly held. Its temperature quickly soared, blowing itself open in a fountain of molten delight. Mikoto noticed and stopped her strike, but the damage was done.

"AH AH AH AH Hot hot hot hot…" Touma began passing the syrupy can back and forth between his bare hands, before settling on putting it down on the cool ground.

"You did NOT scare me!" She shouted, equally embarrassed by his choice of words and her own sudden outburst. "I-I was just startled, that's all! When you SHOUTED right NEXT to me!" Her finger pointed accusingly at Touma, who could only sigh in acceptance.

"I-I was trying NOT to startle you! Honest! And besides, can't you sense threats and people around you and stuff?! How'd I even get that close without you knowing, anyway?"

"Well you didn't do a very good job, Idiot! And while I can sense threats, that doesn't work on you and your hand! And even if it did, it's not like you're a threat anyway." Her tirade lost steam, trailing off into a murmur as she glanced aside, sipping her warm cider.

Touma paused momentarily: not a threat? Did that mean she finally realized he didn't want to duel her? It was risky, but he had to pursue this chance.

"Not a threat? Well… that's go-"

"Since I beat you last time, I don't have anything left to prove, do I?" She smugly raised her eyebrow and made a peace sign, seemingly unaware of how cute she looked as she did. Touma remembered back to Denmark a few weeks prior, where he had fought her and nearly the entire world for the right to save a smile, and couldn't help grinning lightly along with her. That day and his experiences just before had been the roughest time of his remembered life, but since it was over he could look back and just be grateful it worked out in the end.

"I guess you're right. Man, that's a relief. It'll be nice not having to worry about being fried anymore. Maybe now you can treat me like something more than a target, right? …Right,Biribi-eh!?" Once again Touma had spoken without thinking, and Mikoto had conjured up an aura of electric destruction in response to his words. He readied Imagine Breaker and braced himself, thinking furiously all the while. _How do I manage to keep doing this!? I'm so confused! W-was it calling her Biri-biri again!? Maybe!? How do I fix THIS one!?_

Unbeknownst to Touma the younger girl was similarly panicked, though for a different reason. Mikoto was caught in a whirlwind of thoughts and doubts, as she parsed what Touma had so casually said. _L-l-like more than a t-target? What do THAT mean!? Does he… he think I've been ch-ch-chasing after him!? Does t-that idiot really suspect-! Is he implying he wants me to stop… or that I've already hit!? Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh oh-_

"M-Misaka-san, I'm sorry! Really, I didn't – I don't – Just, please, be careful, there are people around!" Grasping at straws, Touma had noticed that they had begun to draw a crowd. No one had been around in the initial accident, but the subsequent commotion had awoken curiosity in more than a few.

The thought of further public embarrassed cut Mikoto's display short, but things still didn't seem adequately resolved to her. Eventually the crowd dispersed as Touma apologized dramatically for the unintentional light-show, but not before Mikoto noticed something. It wasn't that cold out, so why was Touma shivering so visibly? His jacket seemed thick enough from the side, but…

"Hey, idiot." Touma stiffened, and turned to face Mikoto. "No, turn around. Face away. I want to see something. "

Her deadpan tone frightened Touma to no end. _Wh-what is this? Is she trying to get a sneak attack in!? And she's just asking me to let it happen?! That is… is just so unfair! She wouldn't actually do something like that… right!? I thought she said she doesn't even want to fight any more!_ He was almost in tears at the injustice in the world, but he also knew better than to hesitate too long. He slowly turned away and tried to brace himself for the worst. _At least I NEARLY made to a hospital-less Christmas…_

"Did you tear your jacket when you fell just now? It's in tatters! How could that little fall have possibly done that!?" She pointed with distress to his back. Three long rips had been made straight through the cheap fabric of his fall coat, with one particularly jagged tear reaching over halfway to Touma's neck.

Mikoto's questioning at first confused then relieved the boy. He leaned forwards to rest his hands on his knees and gave a loud, life-affirming sigh.

"No, no." He straightened up before turning to face Mikoto's surprised look with an easy smile. "That was from before. This isn't the first accident I've had today. Can you believe it?"

"I believe it." Her immediate emotionless response prompted another sigh and deflated all the relief he had felt moments before. "So, what happened?"

"It's kinda embarrassing… I was heading out to school as normal. But before I could leave I came under attack by… an irate house-guest for not having any bacon in the fridge, who chased me out to my balcony. I tried to cross over to Tsuchimikado's apartment as an escape route, when I fell in between my railing and his to land on a different balcony on the floor below. My jacket got caught on a loose nail as I went, and there you go! Eheh." The whole time Touma was explaining, Mikoto felt something was amiss. House guest? Who was that? But more directly obvious was the hole in Touma's story.

"That explains one rip, but there are two more. Did you fall all the way to ground floor or something?" She raised an eyebrow again, and Touma knew once again he was in for it. He wasn't going to lie, but he had really wanted to avoid this part.

"No no! Uhm… I landed on that other balcony below, and as I got up… There happened to be a young woman in her room, in a state of… well… SHE WASN'T NAKED I SWEAR!" He leaned back as Mikoto was clearly beginning to threaten violence. "I was there completely by accident, and a little dazed from my fall! I thought to ask for help, but she thought I was some sort of pervert-"

"You say that like you're not." Mikoto's harsh words cut deep into Touma's psyche, but she relented. "Continue."

"Eheh… Well, then she came at me with a knife-"

"A KNIFE?! Are you okay, you damned idiot?! What were you thinking?!" Touma was once again on the defensive for entirely different reasons, and he still had no clear idea why.

"I'm fine, fine: really! And I wasn't thinking about anything else than getting away! Luckily my jacket had fallen over my face: it made it hard to see, but protected both my innocent identity and my skin. She only got a few swings off before I climbed back up to Tsuchimikado's place. So… There you have it! I had to wear it like this throughout the last day of class… It was a little chilly out too… Eheh…" Touma shivered theatrically in an attempt to lighten the mood. In reality, after both his stints in Russia during World War 3 and Denmark during "World War Touma"[2] he felt the weather in Academy City was practically balmy. However, Mikoto had already latched onto a deeper issue.

At the best of times, she felt that Touma was usually underdressed. He always wore the same cheap clothing, and she had never even seen him in anything warmer than his current blazer. _If that idiot's shivering so hard_ _now, what will he be like during a cold snap, or a blizzard? Who will – I MEAN WHAT, w-what will keep him warm? It's not like he hasn't helped make me feel warm, s-so I'd just be returning the favour… When I was cold…_ As she was thinking, Touma had picked up his now lukewarm cocoa and the small bag he had been carrying.

"H-hey… what's in the bag? And why is it labelled 'Scientific Arts and Crafts?'"

"Oh, this?" Touma unconcernedly raised the bag and waved it around at his head level. "There's no way I can afford a new coat right now, so I had to buy some thread, needles, and a few patches."

"Y-you can sew!?" Mikoto sputtered into her cider. _Just how worldly IS this idiot?! I already know he can cook_ _[3]_ _better than me, how the hell am I supposed to-_

"Not really… I can darn socks, but that's the most I've done. But I have to try fixing my jacket: it'll be a cold winter otherwise! Though even then it'll still be full of holes…" Touma hadn't thought to be embarrassed about trying to sew his own jacket until he heard Mikoto's response. _I guess that isn't a very manly thing to do, huh? She must find it silly. Eheh, well, that's just another reason I've got no luck with the ladi- eh?_ His self-deprecating thoughts were interrupted by Mikoto's expression. It very clearly wasn't one of disdain or even good humour, but instead was full of concern.

"You can't possibly wear that over Christmas! Especially if you're not confident in your sewing skills! You deserve a new one, a really nice warm one!" Mikoto realized belatedly that her blush had been building alongside Touma's, but her embarrassment quickly got the best of her. "I-I-I mean, it's what anyone deserves! It's not like you're special or anything!"

Touma was touched, just as he always was when Mikoto volunteered herself willingly to help him out in his problems. _What is with this girl? I just never understand. Half the time she's trying to fry me, the rest she's a dedicated, thoughtful friend. Why are things so complicated all the time?_ He couldn't help but smile, grateful for her concern if nothing else.

"I wouldn't mind one like that myself, but it's difficult. I've got a lot of mouths to feed, and not a lot of money to do it on. There's no way I can afford a new coat." Touma came very close to teasing Mikoto about how rich she was again, but decided he had been attacked enough times today as it was. After his ordeal with Othinus, it seemed some limited self-preserving social skills were finally awakening in him.

Mikoto meanwhile had once again noticed Touma referencing other people living with him, but ignored it for now as she couldn't pass up this chance to make a move. _He basically just asked me for help, right? But he's too damned proud and selfless to accept a really nice gift-_

Except that it was almost Christmas. _Well, this makes the cookies redundant, but…_ An eerie grin flashed over Mikoto's face, but it was gone so quickly Touma wasn't quite certain it had been there at all. She was very clearly trying to play it cool, but as usual it came out as pure aggression.

"You still owe me, you know!" The outburst took Touma aback, and he raised his hands in supplication.

"W-what for? Did I do something else? Recently, I mean?"

"For scar- STARTLING me, idiot!"

"I already apologized, Bir- I mean, Misaka-san, what more do you want?"

"That's NOT good enough!" She shouted before glancing all around in embarrassment. To cover her face she took a sip of her cider, not realizing that it had like Touma's cocoa heated up due to her frequent charges. As she spat out a little and blew cool air onto it, Touma reflected once more on his luck. _Of course it's not. Damn it, what to do then? What made her happy last time? …Maybe something like that penalty game thing again? That was so… awkward though… For both of us… But it did make her happy, and she got us both those Gekota pendants… Hmmm…_

 _Crap crap crap, how do I say this?_ Mikoto blush only grew and as she plotted. _How can I convince him to do this?! This won't work if I just tell him, he'll totally suspect-_

"S-say, Mikoto…" Touma's use of her first name and halting tone shook her from her reverie.

"Eh?!"

"P-perhaps… to make it up to you, we could, you know, or I-I could, maybe… just do what you want me to do for an e-evening?" _Crap crap crap I hope this works. If I guessed this wrong, I'm a good as dead. Sorry mom, sorry dad, I leave everything to Sphinx! …Do they even know I have a cat? Problem for later._

Silence fell over two of them alongside the muffling evening snow as the last shreds of dusk faded to night. Mikoto had never expected that kind of offer from Touma and it threw her into disarray, careful battle plans discarded in the face of what seemed like total surrender.

"…What are y-you offering…Exactly?" _What what wait what? Did I hear that? Could he… is he offering a… d-d-date!? Does he think I… want that!? WHAT!?_

"I don't know! Something like that penalty game thing from last time, maybe... O-or something else! R-really, I don't know! It's just an offer; it can be whatever you want!" _I'm not dead yet. Could this really be working? No sparks yet … okay. J-just play it easy… Try to give her what she wants…_

Normally when faced with a similar scenario, Mikoto's embarrassment had made the direct expression of her goals and feelings impossible. But just this once, for the first time since she had met Touma, something had changed. _He's just g-going to GIVE ME what I w-w-want!? W-ait... what d-do I want…?_ The silence resumed for a few moments more, until Mikoto hesitatingly responded.

"….O-okay…Come shopping with me on the 23rd. I-I've just realized I've g-got to do some last minute Christmas shopping, and YOU'RE GOING TO HELP ME, GOT IT IDIOT!?" Mikoto's aggressive nature finally won through, though she managed to refrain from shocking anyone named Kamijou Touma.

"Yes yes! I promise!" _Well, this could be worse… especially since I'm not the one paying for anything._

"M-Meet me at 4 o-clock, at the entrance to the Dianoid! Don't be late, or… you'll regret it, I promise!"

"Yes yes! I promise again!" _Oh. Now it's worse._ Touma was already having flashbacks to the last time he had visited that high-class hellhole of a mall. The glitz and glam hadn't even been the worst part, considering the magical attack by St. Germaine. Still, things had quieted down in the weeks that had passed, and the boy seriously doubted something would happen again in the same place. Advertisements for the mall had been running non-stop on cable, promising that the mall's security had been improved beyond belief. The boy had no idea if the campaign was working, but if there was ever a _good_ time to go the Dianoid, it was probably now. Plus he only had one girl, not two like last time, dragging him around. However, that one girl was Tokiwadai's railgun, who was in a league of her own when it came to causing trouble.

Without knowing, Touma and Mikoto shared a sense of embarrassed foreboding mixed with hesitant hope. For now the specifics remained different, but the emotions were the same. Without realizing it they had remained starting at each other for almost a minute, silently. Moments before Mikoto realized she ought to be freaking out, Touma smiled his most winning smile.

"I promise, Bir- I mean, Misaka-san… and I-I'm looking forward to it! So… so I'll see you then. Thanks for the cocoa…" Touma trailed off as he took a sip, waving goodbye as he turned with the craft store bag in his other hand.

"Y-you're welcome!" Mikoto couldn't bring herself to wave at his retreating back, but instead took off the opposite direction at a faster pace. She held the cider can to her smiling lips, starting to shake a little with nerves. _Well, that's an improvement over "Biri-biri" I guess._

As he walked, Touma reflected on how much better that had gone than he expected. He was still cold, but he felt a little warmer. _Must be the cocoa, I guess_. He walked a little longer, before stopping suddenly. Mikoto had mentioned something about Christmas presents. Something deep and heavy settled in his heart, and the light grin he wore faded into stark horror. Glancing down at his cheap phone's clock confirmed his fears. It was 4:49 on December 20th, and Kamijou Touma had not even begun to do his Christmas shopping. He had been so busy lately, but that was still no excuse.

"…3 times in 20 minutes? This may be a record, even for me, but… Such misfortune."

[1] A Kiai is basically a martial arts term, for the cry or breath of air one lets out with a major strike. I would have put "chaser" instead, but it didn't flow as well and it's not clear she ALWAYS say it that way.

[2] World War Touma is my term, but I feel like it's something Touma might relate to. He did essentially fight every magical and most of the scientific super-powers. Besides, now I can imagine him as the Hulk (World War Hulk, in case you're wondering) and that makes me laugh. "SMASH PUNY ILLUSIONS!"

[3] I don't exactly remember if she has direct experience with his cooking, but seeing as she knows he always buys ingredients and things and is always bumping into him, I assumed she figured it out. Plus, she is sensitive about her own lack of skills, to a degree (remembering the cookies she made before).


	2. Part 1: Chapter 2

**Hey, so here's number 2. Double update today, because both chapters are fairly short. Thanks for giving this story a shot, unless you hit page two by accident and now are awkwardly trying to disengage from this page.**

 **Chapter 2:**

7:21 P.M., December 20th: A high-rise office in New York City

The office could have been copied from any aspiring Manager's most ambitious dreams. Rich mahogany panelling and red velvet carpets gave the spacious room a Victorian feel, while the ultra-modern computer workstation and holographic displays were sleekly integrated to not feel anachronistic. It was the very picture of refined opulence, well lit from its fireplace whose artificial flames burned with the coolest heat. No personal decorations or photographs of loved ones could be found anywhere on its walls and shelves, though space for them remained between leather bound encyclopedias and award plaques. From its immaculate order one could get the impression the room never changed all year round, and would likely remain aesthetically identical for decades to come.

Behind a 200 year old desk sat a small middle-aged woman in a designer business suit, hair tied back into a severe bun. The false smile playing over her lightly wrinkled face was completely transparent to the man standing before her. He was also dressed in a suit; though ratty and threadbare in comparison it fit his broad shoulders with a lover's embrace, comforting and familiar. A small silver crucifix dangled around his neck, exceedingly simple but well cared for. The man wore a genuine grin, even though he was the more experienced actor of the two.

He had entered her presence with a flourish, bowing low before sweeping an arm out before him. Though a moment before his hand was empty, now a single white rose was held. He proffered it to the woman, who without hesitation took it and laid it on her desk. Between any other people his simple actions might have meant more, but in this office it was only the prelude to business.

"Thank you and good evening, Mr. Bennett."

"Please, Ms. Roosevelt, when I am work, I am only known as…" The man bowed low again, only to spring up dramatically as sparkling confetti-like trinkets filled the air above his head. More than ten thousands stars of shining light hovered unnaturally, drifting into a pattern; spelling words which read- "The Amazing Amazo! Ahahah-HAH!"[1] There was no sense of embarrassment in his tone as he read his own display aloud, even as he fully expected his employer cared less about his display. For this was how Mr. Bennett played his role: a full method character and stage magician.

"Indeed, Mr. Bennett. Please do not make a mess of my office."

Smile remaining, Bennett revealed in his hand the small plastic container which had once held his flamboyant display. The cross on his neck flashed momentarily with a secret fire as every piece of glitter hanging in the air quickly returned to its home. What was odd about the process was that there was no visible reason why they would do so: the air remained still and floating dust mites were undisturbed.

"So there are no fans involved? Magnets? Electrical fields? Or some other technological method?" Despite all the evidence she had compiled from the global research into the events of World War 3, Rosslyn Roosevelt had still wanted to see for herself what this _magic_ could do. Her sources had spent millions trying to contact someone in the field, but she had not expected to find someone like Mr. Bennett. Yet to all analysis he seemed to be a bonafide magician, truly using some power inexplicable to science. "So your appearance is merely an elaborate cover, disguising your true abilities. Very clever." She nodded in something like approval, but failed to notice Bennett's warm smile become hard and serious.

"I assure you, Miss, that this is no cover. Magic is my life, in every form. God put me on this for many purposes, all of which are best met through my art. My true magic is indistinguishable from my performance."

"Of course it is." Rosslyn folded her hands under her chin thoughtfully. _Is a certain level of delusion required for the performance of magic, or is this still part of the act?_ She had always embraced whatever tools and methods she could to further her aims, but was never unmindful of the risks. Ever calculating, she assessed the man before her and was reassured she could use him. "Very well. Are the preparations continuing apace?"

"Your hired gun, Miss Sergeant, is already on the ground with my assistant. They are preparing her agents for their roles, and distributing our necessary tools. As I told you earlier, my protégé has all the skills necessary to sneak some equipment into a shopping mall."

"Are you certain there will be no issues? This mall has recently had a serious incident occur: they will be on the lookout for trouble."

"Security means nothing, my dear, when you are a magician. Their techniques could not prevent their last magical encounter, and nothing has been learned that can stop a second attempt. They are truly so clumsy it is almost a pity to target them."

"Then ready yourself to join her. Our bargain will be kept, provided you accomplish what I ask of you before Christmas."

"I'll be leaving on the next flight to Japan. As you know, The Amazing Amazo has a scheduled performance in Academy City, and I could not stand to disappoint my audience."

7:21 P.M, December 20th: _Joseph's_ , a diner in Academy City.

"I understand why Uiharu-san and Shirai-san don't leave over the Christmas break, but why do you have to stay too, Misaka-san?" Saten Ruiko thoughtfully stirred the drink in front of her with a festive light up straw. The four friends were sharing a quiet evening meet-up at their usual table at _Joseph's_ , which had gaudily embraced the holiday spirit. Tinsel and garlands hung about the tables and between banisters, shining amidst powerful green and red lights: the effect was almost overbearing.

Misaka Mikoto sighed lightly before smiling in response. "It can't be helped, you know. My mother's compact coursework at university doesn't permit any breaks, and my father is just as busy as he always is. We all meet up often enough, so it doesn't bother me too much." Truthfully the level 5 was more than a little sad, as every other year they had managed to make at least some time. Sensing this, her quietest friend quickly tried to change the subject.

"I-it's doesn't matter anyways, because that just means we afford to spend some more time together! We've all been so busy lately… Shirai-san and I with Judgement duties, and Misaka–san with level 5 business… it's time to relax, and really get into the holiday spirit!" Uiharu Kazari's cheerful interpretation brought a bit of life back to the group, who had all been harbouring their own disappointments at remaining in Academy city for the holidays. Saten at least was going to spend a few days at home between Christmas and the New Year, but that was the extent of their combined departures.[2] Many students had already left for home, and the streets were noticeably emptier.

'It's not like we don't still have work, Uiharu-san. Having fewer students during holidays doesn't mean there is less trouble. There are just fewer witnesses and judgement officers to go around." As usual for Shirai Kuroko, her Judgement duties were never far from her mind. However, the spirit of the season had even infected her. "I do appreciate us both getting the 22nd and the morning of the 23rd off together, though." With the mention of the dates, Mikoto sat up with a jolt.

"Oh! Right, I nearly forgot about our plans. Saten-san, the sleepover's at your apartment, correct?" Mikoto felt a little embarrassed that she had been distracted by a certain idiot from the party she had been anticipating, but no one seemed to notice.

"Mm-hmm! First, we're going to go out and admire the decorations around the city, then come back to my place and cook a big celebratory dinner! Then we'll marathon festive movies while eating sugary snacks until we pass out! Then in the morning comes-" Saten Ruiko was about to continue when Mikoto interjected.

"About that, Saten-san… I know we were planning to spend the rest of the 23rd together as well after Kuroko and Uiharu-san left for work, but I forgot about some Christmas shopping that I meant to do so I'll probably be leaving early that day. I'm sorry, I just found out a few hours ago." Though the Mikoto presented her case calmly enough, on the inside she was praying the issue would pass unanalyzed.

"I could help you shop, Misaka-san! … Unless, of course, MY gift is the one you forgot!" Saten didn't think her teasing would strike such a nerve, but Mikoto turned an immediate crimson and waved her arms in front of her, nearly spilling her drink.

"NO NO NO I'm fine on my own! I-I mean, no, I didn't forget ANY of your gifts, really! Those are all taken care of! You'll be so surprised, they're really the best! Eheheh…" It was becoming rapidly apparent to her friends that Mikoto was being her usual secretive self about something, but it didn't seem like a darker sort of problem. Uiharu and Saten looked at each other and silently agreed it could only mean one thing…

It was that mystery boy again. They shared a sly grin and a giggle, ignoring the look Shirai Kuroko was giving Mikoto. "For whom are you still shopping for then, Onee-sama? I remember you telling me not 3 days ago that you had finished all your shopping weeks in advance. It's not like you to forget something like this."

"A-ah-ah-hahah, well, you see, I wasn't planning on b-buying this person something, but then I got a really good idea, so now I wanted to get that done too- I mean, instead!"

"If you weren't planning on buying something, why change your mind now? Unless… you were planning on MAKING them something instead…" Kuroko began to mutter to herself, not noticing the rising panic Mikoto was displaying next to her. "But you never do that sort of thing… I should know, we're as close as can be and you still buy my gifts-" The pig-tailed teleporter froze in horror. "U-unless Onee-sama has someone closer than me in mind! Someone whom she wanted to impress with a heartfelt homemade gift, fill with her CHARM and LOVE!" Kuroko's stress was clearly rising as Mikoto began to edge away from her underclassman. "But w-who, w-who could it B-BE FOR IF NOT ME?! THERE'S NO ONE ELSE SO WORTHY OF ONEE-SAMA'S LOVE, UNLESS- !?" Before her pondering could reach its crescendo, Kuroko was interrupted by dancing electricity. Arcs flashed across the table, burning out the lit straws in their drink and briefly dimming Christmas lights nearby.

"IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK! IT'S JUST a STUPID gift for a BIG IDIOT!" By this point Mikoto was shouting nearly as loudly as Kuroko, and she realized only belatedly that they were both drawing attention. "Ah-ah-I've got to go, sorry! I just remembered something else I forgot about! Uhm, see you tonight, Kuroko, have a good night Uiharu-san, Saten-san!" A few more heads turned as she made her speedy exit, but Mikoto was enough of a regular that the staff didn't bat an eyelash. The remaining three friends sat awkwardly until Kuroko's face slamming into the table broke the silence.

"It's just not FAIR! Who could have captured Onee- sama's heart like this?!" Each sentence was punctuated with another head-desk, while her friends anxiously tried to avoid an even more public scene. Saten and Uiharu looked at each other with worry, silently praying Kuroko would not come up with the name of a certain boy constantly around Mikoto. Saten in particular thought it best not to mention how a week prior, Mikoto had borrowed her kitchen to bake cookies again, for the same unnamed person she "owed" as last time.

"It's okay, Shirai-san, I'm sure it's not like Misaka-san-sama meant to exclude you, it just must be… uhm…" Uiharu's attempts to placate her co-worker went unrewarded: her lack of an explanation only inspired new drive in Kuroko.

"I MUST KNOW! I will track her down that evening and REMOVE this obstacle! Then there will be NO ONE to contest me for Onee-sama's heart! I must-!"

"Ahh!? But Shirai-san, we have to work! You were the one saying earlier we can't just relax because it's the holid-"

"DO I LOOK RELAXED TO YOU?!"

As the two close friends bickered, Saten realized if there was going to be a solution it would have to come from her. Smoothing back her hair, which was still a little charged with static from Mikoto's demonstration, she quickly put together a plan.

"Shame on you, Shirai-san! You know that you can't leave work for something like this! What would Misaka-san-sama think about your… uhm, dereliction of duty?" Saten's words stunned Kuroko into momentary confusion. Uiharu's own confusion grew into surprise when Saten pulled her head down next to her to whisper into her ear.

"I've got a plan: play along?" With a wink, Uiharu got the message and nodded.

"Y-yeah, Shirai-san, it's going to be one of the worst times of years for muggings and other petty crimes! We have to be at the office, ready to react to any emergency!" Kuruko's stammered objections to Uiharu's statement were promptly undercut as Saten revealed the key to her strategy.

"However, I'M not busy, Shirai-san! How about I _secretly_ tag along after Mikoto, and keep an eye on her? Just to, you know, make sure nothing happens?"

"U-uhm… Hmmm... Well, you'll have to stay in constant contact with me, alright? So I can run in and save Onee-sama's dignity if I need to! And you absolutely can NOT get spotted! And…" Shirai continued to list off her demands, not noticing the sighs of relief from her friends. However, Uiharu surprised Saten by leaning in a whisper of her own.

"How much are you going to actually tell her?"

"As little as possible, I promise! I'll make sure to apologize to Misaka-san-sama later, I'm sure she'll agree it was for the best." What Saten didn't tell her friend was that she planned to observe Mikoto's shopping a little for her own peace of mind. Though she respected her older friend's privacy and happiness enough to prevent Kuroko from getting too involved, Saten was more than a little curious about this mystery boy herself, though she had some suspicions as to his identity. She and Uiharu finally calmed Kuroko down enough to leave the restaurant without chaos, and each went their separate ways home to plan for the upcoming Christmas party.

[1] His laugh is going to be a character thing. And before you panic: the man is not going to be a buffoon, but he is going to be human. So give him time: the name is purposeful.

[2] If it seems somewhat unrealistic that they are all staying for Christmas, remember at least in part that many students with greater power and responsibilities (Shirai and Mikoto especially, but Uiharu fits into the latter) have a hard time leaving the city for any reason. Saten is the exception in their group, but also likely wouldn't want to leave all her friends there for the entire holidays (I feel she is that kind of person).


	3. Part 1: Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

12:24 P.M. December 23rd: A room in Tokiwadai Middle School's Dormitory

Misaka Mikoto breathed a sigh of relief as she pushed the door to her dorm room closed behind her. The party had been great fun but dodging both questions and amorous approaches from Kuroko had worn her out completely. She was more than thankful that Saten and Uiharu had done so much to divert the conversation from her roommate's obsession. After the two judgement girls went to work, Mikoto left for home, apologizing to Saten for ducking out. Instead of being disappointed, the girl had seemed oddly cheerful. _Maybe she is as tired as I am after last night. I'm glad I have time for nap before my dat- AH, I MEAN my DEAL with that Idiot…_

After setting her clock's alarm for an hour she threw herself onto the covers of her bed, lying face down into pillow. Magnetically pulling on the metal rings of the curtain to shade her eyes from the day's light, she dozed fitfully. For what felt like ages she was unable relax, tense with expectation, but her exhaustion won out.

Mikoto awoke with a start. _W-woah, I was really out of it… What time is it?_ She glanced over to her dresser and was overcome with horror. It was flashing only 12:00: something had reset the power.

 _O-oh crap, did I spark in my sleep!? I NEVER do that anymore, damn it!_ _What time is it?_ Mikoto scrambled to her feet and powered on her phone. Its digital display turned over to 3:43 as she watched.

It took all of her willpower not to scream out loud and electrically ruin her phone. _DAMNIT DAMNIT DAMNIT HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!? I-I-I haven't even had a shower! My hair! Do I smell!? ACK! Even if I leave now I can't make it to the Dianoid on time!_ In a complete panic, she whirled about the room, trying to decide what to do. _I-I'll have to text him; let him know I'll be l-late. Half an hour from now? I can make that…eh?_

In her consternation, she had failed to notice that her room's intercom was flashing. A low buzz accompanied in pulse of red. _A v-visitor? NOW?! But who…_ She almost ignored the call, but decorum won out. She answered, but was not prepared for the face that awaited her on the monitor.

"Y-Y-Y-YOU!?" Looking up at the camera with an uncharacteristically wide smile on his face was Kamijou Touma. He had somehow gotten a hold of a dress suit, and was failing to hide a massive box of chocolates behind his back. "WHY THE - ARE **YOU** HERE!?"[1] In her complete terror Mikoto swore loudly into the microphone. Though she lurched back in shock at her own word choice and covered her mouth, Touma only grinned the wider.

"That can come later, Misaka-san![2] I've come to escort you to our evening at the Dianoid! Forgive me for being early, but I could not bear to wait a moment longer!" His cheesy smile brooked no argument, but Mikoto could not leave well enough alone.

"But-but-but we were meeting AT the D-Dianoid! Why are you HERE!? **NOW**!? And where did you get that suit!?"

"I was already at the mall, you know, waiting an hour before hand in anticipation… then I thought, why not rent a sleigh to take us there in style? It would be much more…" He paused, for the most dramatic of effects. "…Romantic."

In her dorm room, Mikoto practically fell over in shock. Her heart was raising, face flushing with colour as she leaned for support against the door frame next to her intercom. Her finger still held down the button, so Touma's impossible situation continued to transmit.

"Why, my dear, have you not opened your door to me? My only desire is to see your smiling face! Please, let me in to your room, so that we may begin our evening together!"

Sputtering, Mikoto returned to the intercom, barely avoiding screaming in response. "I-idiot! My dorm is off limits to boys, what do you think-Eh!?" She became momentarily distracted by a sharp knock on her door. _Oh CRAP, the Dorm Manager! Ah, ah, ah, she heard, she knows, I have to answer-_ She lifted her finger off the intercom button and pulled the door open quickly, not even bothering to tidy her hair. Out in the hallway stood Kamijou Touma.

"…WHHHAAAAAAA?!" Mikoto practically dove backwards in her retreat, scrambling behind Koruko's bed-frame for refuge from the insanity before her. It was all she could do to point a trembling finger at him. "H-h-h-ho-h-how!?" Touma seemed completely un-phased by his own ridiculousness, while Mikoto was at her wits end keeping up. He stood proudly in the door-frame, a bouquet of flowers outstretched. "A-and-and wait, w-weren't those chocolates a second ago!?" Once again, he ignored her questions and pressed forward, unabashed.

"Nothing could restrain my feelings for you, and I could not stand us to be apart a second longer! You look radiant, by the way…" He trailed off as he gestured towards Mikoto, who was unable to resist looking down at her clothes.

Somehow she was wearing the most resplendent dress she could have imagined: both elegant yet simple, light blue silk subtly layered in careful weaves fell just below her knees. Turning shakily towards her mirror, Mikoto noticed her reflection's hair was immaculately done, even if her face was completely red. A low buzz began to pulse inside her head, quietly but surely gaining pressure. While she stared at her own image, she felt a warmth move up next to her. Completely petrified, Mikoto could only watch as Touma moved into the mirror's reflection next to her. He moved an arm around her, and held her close, both chocolates and flowers forgotten. Instead he held a small Gekota brooch, which he delicately pinned to her dress as she remained frozen. Its reflection smiled at her, reassuringly at ease in stark contrast to its wearer.

"Now, my -, are you -y for the nig- - your life?" He romantically whispered into her ear, nuzzling in ever closer, but Mikoto had finally noticed had loud the pulsing, buzzing tone had become.

"What i- -ng on with your -e?! Wait, wh- - going on - MY voice!?" She looked up at Touma over her shoulder, and beheld his vacant expression. Though his eyes were unfocused, his mouth was rhythmically opening and closing in time to the buzzing, almost as if he were mimicking Mikoto's alarm clock-

With a start, she woke up. One leg was hanging over her bed, while the other was kicking fitfully at imagined idiots. Struggling back to consciousness, she peered with blinking eyes over at her alarm clock. It read 1:27 P.M. It ticked over to 1:28 before Mikoto blearily understood what had transpired.

 _W-WHAT THE HELL KIND OF A DREAM WAS THAT?!_ [3]

After tidying up her bed and having a long shower, Mikoto sat at her dresser in front of her mirror. The water had had a calming effect, but she was only now regaining full control of her faculties.

"That was… interesting." Awkwardly chuckling to herself, she brushed her hair steadily. It was more than a little calming, reminding Mikoto of her mother's tender attention. A little sadness came unbidden to her heart when she remembered she wouldn't be seeing them until the New Year at least, but Mikoto was able to push that aside to deal with the more immediate problem. _What the heck was that dream even about? I mean, I don't want t-that at all, it was so weird, so… so unlike that idiot! As if he'd ever come here and surprise me… And seriously, chocolates? FLOWERS? Please. As if care… I did like that pin though… and the dress, even if was a little too formal for me…_ She woke from her reverie when she caught a knot in her hair. Taking a minute to work it out, she finally stood up. It was 2:57 P.M., leaving plenty of time before her rendezvous with Touma.

For a few minutes she was torn between wearing her dressier Tokiwadai uniform and her winterized ensemble, but she chose warmth over style at the last minute. Donning a simple toque and light pink mittens, she almost made it out the door before remembering the brown paper bag of cookies sitting on her end table.

 _What am I going to do about those now? Should I give them to that idiot along with the jacket, or bring them today and just call them a snack? Would he think they were just for h-him? Gah, this is so stupid…_

In the end, she opted to leave them here as a backup in case the jacket plan didn't work out. As she locked her dorm room behind her, a sincere smile played across her lips.

 _You know, I really should have noticed that dream was nonsense from the beginning. As IF that idiot ever shows up early for anything._

[1] While this is quite out of character, I felt I had to for two reasons. The first is made apparent in the next paragraph, while the second is at least somewhat explainable by the chapter's end.

[2] And here's the first reason. Now, while I wouldn't be surprised if the Japanese language made this little wordplay impossible (I'm no expert) I imagine a taboo word related to sex exists somewhere. Imagine that, if it works for you. Either way, I'm a stinker, but this is very likely the first and last usage of anything worse than crap as fair as swears go. I had to debate internally about doing it, but I think this sort of circumstance would bring the vinegar out of Mikoto.

[3] Well, sorry about the clichéd twist. At least I'll promise that this is the only out and out fake-out I'll do. I don't like them for anything but comedic effect, and it'd only work in the opening stages of this story anyway. Sorry again!


	4. Part 1: Chapter 4

**Hey folks! So far, seems like reception has been hesitantly positive, so I'm pushing out another short chapter. These won't keep coming every day, but right now I have a pretty big backlog of mostly ready material, and I wanted to make sure that if people were interested they had a large chunk to get started on quickly. Next chapter will be a little different, and will come out tomorrow I think. After that, god only knows, or at least has the best guess.**

 **Chapter 4:**

3:59 P.M., December 23rd: A street in Academy City near the Dianoid Shopping Centre

 _I'm going to be late again._ Touma spared the breath for a sigh as he jogged down the snow-laden sidewalk. It was already getting dark out, but what was left of the evening sun warmed his back. His awkwardly patched coat was holding up for now, but he doubted it would last the winter. _At least moving quickly keeps me warm._

He came to a red light, and was forced to delay his rush. Waiting across from him was a young couple together with a girl of maybe 10 or 11. Judging by their laughing faces, they were all heading back home for their vacation. Touma smiled at them as they crossed his path, but couldn't ignore the sadness which surrounded his own thoughts of family.

He had begged off returning home this Christmas, claiming to be just too busy with homework and other commitments. While the former at least was completely true, Touma admitted to himself the ulterior motives he held for not wanting to go. Ever since his last run in with his folks during the Angel Fall incident, it was painful to think of them. There was so much danger constantly around his life: what kind of son would willingly bring his parents into that mess? Even if he barely knew them he wanted to give them the son they deserved, and so Touma had decided to fix everything wrong in his life before getting too close to them again. He still called and wrote often enough, but that was distant and easier. At least he had express mailed their presents on time to arrive by the 25th.

With a rueful grin, Touma recalled his panicked two day shopping spree. Index of course would be happiest with food, so bulk Christmas chocolates were a simple solution, and he knew Tsuchimikado's and Pierce's unique interests well enough to pick out suitable manga's. However, after his meeting with Mikoto reminded him of Christmas, the telling looks and subtle comments his female classmates had been giving him the last week finally made sense. Even Komoe-sensei had an expectant grin for Touma the last day of class that had nothing to do with remedial work under her tutelage. Fukiyose at least was her normal self, saving Touma's sanity with her gift suggestions. He had to promise her help set up for the New Year's Day festival in return, but it was well worth it. Though she did seem flustered by his ready acceptance...

While that handled most of his normal associates, the number of magicians that Touma had met in the last 6 months was staggering, and many of them would likely expect some sort of gift even if they were too cool to admit it. Stiyl was easy enough: a cigarette lighter decorated with a red Oni mask seemed suitable, though he was less certain Kaori would appreciate the katana shaped fountain pen he had found on sale. For Asia there was a pretty hairbrush, to suit her long raven locks, but this was nearly the limit of both Touma's ingenuity and his wallet. Hardly knowing her at all but grateful for her constant courage, the best he could think to give Itsuwa was a hand embroidered hand-towel he found at a curio shop. For Lessar and rest of New Light, he simply gathered up a number of self-described spiritual knick-knacks from the same store and prayed they weren't anything dangerous. Agnes and the other girls from the Roman Catholic and Anglican Churches would have to settle with some large boxes of assorted sweets to share, but he hoped that the mere fact they were Japanese and thus unique to them would distract from their insignificance. Even Sphinx received a simple cat toy, to hopefully distract _him_ from Othinus. (He was particularly proud of this cheap, two-for-the-price-of-one gift.)

It was insane the number of people he was still leaving out, but Touma could justify most of their absences on account of they had either tried to kill him recently, still professed to barely tolerate him, or were someone he hardly interacted with. This was good, because he had already blown through nearly all his savings and would have to survive to next year on change. And despite his best efforts one particularly difficult recipient remained without a gift, though Touma was confident an idea would come today.

He finally rounded the last corner, and the hexagonal ivory tower that was the Dianoid finally came into view. The sheer, featureless walls towering 70 stories didn't inspire as much dread as they had before, but the boy still felt an oppressive weight. Though it was made of nearly pure molecularly arranged carbon, it still looked to Touma like a marble mausoleum, a fitting memorial to all his illusions of financial and social security. "It's like I'm late for my own funeral."

Outside the main doors waited Misaka Mikoto, arms crossed and frowning in a predictable manner. She gestured to her right, and Touma followed her point like a well-trained dog. Next to the entrance a large temporary clock had been installed to count down until the New Year, but it still displayed the current time of 4:13. He jogged up to her, arriving winded enough to clasp his knees and bend over. As soon as he caught his breath he began apologizing.

"Eheh… sorry I'm late." He halfheartedly raised his right hand to ward off an attack, but was surprised by its absence. Looking up he met Mikoto's eyes and saw that she was indeed annoyed, but she broke eye contact first and turned away with a blush.

"It's fine. At least you weren't early…" Completely nonplussed, Touma could only blink in wonderment. Did this mean he could be late now and she wouldn't be mad? Or did she want him to be 100% exactly on time? He was even more worried because he had actually planned to leave early but made it halfway to Mikoto's dorm before remembering that wasn't the appointed location. Before he could explain to her his delay, she imperiously continued. "And considering this is you we're talking about, a quarter-hour late is basically the same thing as punctual."

Though Touma deflated a bit at this relatively fair criticism, the fact she was smiling brightened up his mood. "You know me, always something happening. Sorry again." They stood outside in the doorway grinning at each other for a moment, cheeks rosy from the wind.

 _It's nice just to be around her sometimes, without any crap going on. She can be pretty funny, even if she is a little odd._

 _At least that idiot's always sorry when he screws up. Even though he smiles like a fool the whole time, I guess I can believe him._

The moment dragged on longer than either had intended, and Touma decided to clear his throat before he couldn't restrain a shiver.

"So… uh… should we head inside, then? It's a little chilly."

"Oh! Right, your jacket! Don't just stand there, idiot, get moving!" With a wrench Mikoto gripped his forearm and dragged him unceremoniously through the front doors. As he struggled to regain his feet, she pulled his back towards her. "Hold still, I want to see… Oh…Oh wow." She couldn't help but stare at the repair job he had attempted.

If nothing else, she could say the jacket remained in one piece. In fact, the stitching seemed secure and well-spaced. The issue arose with the colour choice. Touma's navy blue jacket clashed so impossibly with the new pink and green patterned patches that Mikoto could only assume they were sold to him as an act of deliberate vengeance. The neon-orange thread which tied it all together did not help change her mind. But as soon as her eyes recovered from their brutal initial assault, she was struck dumb by the familiar frog-like figures embossed on the new material.

"If they weren't both on sale I wouldn't have gotten them; even I'm not that colour blind." Touma grinned, somewhat embarrassed at how quickly she had sussed out his get-up. "But when I saw the material, I thought at least it might make you laug… e-e-e-eh!? B-biri-" He expected she would be amused by his display, but Mikoto surprised him yet again. She had pulled herself tightly into his back and was already nuzzling the new fabric of his coat, muttering to herself contentedly.

"Gekota gekota… mmm…" She nearly purred in satisfaction as Touma inched forward, eager to build some space before Mikoto realized what she was doing. Sure enough, with a gasp she let go and pushed him forward, nearly sprawling him on the hard carbon floor. As he regained his balance, Touma looked around, grateful that the mall was quiet enough that only a few people were staring at their display. It was more than enough to bother Mikoto though, who had to mitigate her embarrassment the only way she knew how. Sparks flew as she pointed an accusatory finger at the unfortunate boy before her.

"YOU IDIOT! Why would you…" She blushed furiously, desperately wanting to be angry to mask her shock. But when she saw his smile in spite of it all she couldn't justify it anymore, and broke into laughter. "…C-choose something so childish! You're a grown man, damn it! Do I have to pick out everything you wear now?"

"So that's how this is my fault…" He muttered a little darkly, but his teasing intention was obvious. The people who before had been watching dispersed with light laughter, one muttering to the woman next to him loudly, "Ah, l'amour…" as she giggled. Mikoto missed it as she recovered from her own amusement.

"Oh, j-just shut up! Come on; don't forget you still owe me. That's why you're here anyway, remember? So… let's GO already!" She used this excuse to grab his arm once again, dragging him deeper into his own personal nightmare, his traditional cry echoing away into the lobby's upper reaches.

"Such misfortune…!"

3:59 P.M., December 23rd: A storage area within the Dianoid Shopping Centre

The flushed fluorescent lights didn't quite reach every corner of the hanger-sized warehouse. Dangling like ornaments from thick cables; each one lit a different retail outlet's stock of reserve merchandise: one illuminated pallets with thousands of designer labels, while another showed boxes upon boxes of stacked electronics. Multiple scanners, security checks, and robotic workers ensured that only the appropriate goods made it into storage: as such, internal security was limited to the occasional guard patrolling and whatever safety measures each store set up in its own allotted area. In the past few had bothered with more than the minimal precautions, but the recent incursion had tripled the average defences. Still, the warehouse itself was essentially deserted and remarkably unobserved for somewhere so deep in Academy City. The room itself was one of dozens but even so it was larger than a football field, with more than enough extra space to host a quiet conversation in one of its many shadowed corners. One was just beginning between two women, between whom no greater contrast could be imagined.

The first was wearing a baggy security uniform, identical to those favoured by the company that the Dianoid's management had contracted for protection services. She appeared nearly bald; her short wispy blond hair was nearly unnoticeable beneath a stiff regulation cap, emblazoned with the Dianoid emblem. Lean, angular features made her look more like a predator than a soldier, but a controlled and formal stance even when at parade rest made her intense military training clear. Despite this, if ever Joy Sergeant had been uncomfortable while at work, it was during this particular job.

It wasn't the obvious illegality of their operation, nor the potential risks involved. It wouldn't have even been a problem had she been employed by some weirdo or nutcase: she had dealt with enough of those during her many stints in the America's, and even more when she had transferred her operations to Academy City. She had never, however, been contracted to work _with_ the weirdo's, one of whom was now standing before her.

While Joy's attire was as inconspicuous as could be imagined, her companion would have stood out in any environment. This was very likely the point, as the one who called herself Catherine Baker was a showgirl. She had quite literally dressed the part, her sequined black leotard gleaming in even the warehouse's dim lighting. To Joy it looked almost trashy, were it not for the utter confidence and poise Ms. Baker possessed. On stage and under the gaze of a thrilled audience, the get up would have looked right at home. The woman herself was small and shapely, long brown tresses flowing just past her neck to frame a bright and warm smile. Though half-lidded, her eyes unnerved the ex-soldier with their very vagueness. Joy ignored the feeling: she considered herself a professional despite her discharge from the forces, and so gave her report without hesitation.

"All of the supplies have been boxed, wrapped, and distributed at the specified locations as per the client's plan. Is your partner ready on his end?"

"Oh please, Miss Sergeant, we are not partners. I am just the Amazing Amazo's assistant and apprentice. But yes, he is currently speaking with this mall's management. They do of course believe they have legitimately hired him for his act, so he must continue to play that role as well." All the while, her easy smile never faded.

"Fine then. My men are moving to their locations. They will remain out of uniform until your… master… gives the signal."

"Very good work, Miss Sergeant. You are the very picture of efficiency." Somehow the showgirl smiled even brighter, and it was all Joy could do not to wince.

"Yeah, well, I'm more impressed at how you got all the supplies in right under everyone's noses. Were there any difficulties?" Joy masked her professional interest with idle curiosity: having worked for years within Academy City's underworld, she knew that moving this much illicit material would nearly certainly require the approval of one of the 12 directors. However, she was equally certain none of those were behind this current action. It might be the work of some sort of esper power, which would be handy knowledge for a mercenary to have.

"None at all." The curt response, however politely spoken, made it clear Joy was to stop asking questions. Unsurprised, she could only grunt in acknowledgement. She had suspected from the beginning that, although nominally equal in authority to the magicians, they knew a great deal more about the plan than she ever would. That suited Joy fine, as long as she wasn't betrayed in the end. She did not like relying totally on her secret precautions, but wasn't about to push her nose where it could get chopped off. Especially when the potential chopper paid so handsomely.

"That's good to hear. I'll go patrol then." About to turn and walk away, Joy was stopped by a restraining hand from Catherine.

"Excuse me, Miss Sergeant, but when I was reading you file, I could not help but notice…"

Joy suppressed the urge to pull away, for she had already guessed what was coming. _God damn it, this again… Every damn time._

"Yes, Miss Baker?"

"Well, I was wondering about your discharge: have you read a book called Catch-22?" Her expectations met, Joy launched into her rehearsed response whenever somebody made the predictable reference.

"No, Miss Baker, but I'm aware of what you're referring to. There is a character whose father, as a horrible joke, named his son as follows: first name, Major, middle name Major. His last name also happened to be Major. He later enlisted in the military during a war, but the bureaucracy was so confused by his name they just promoted him to the rank of Major to make it simpler. Comedy ensued." It was all so tedious to Joy, but she persevered knowing it didn't make sense to alienate her companion. "My case is different. My father was an ass-hole, but for different reasons. When I enlisted, I rose through the ranks normally, but was stopped by a commanding officer who had read Catch-22, and wanted to be the only person in the army with a Sergeant Sergeant under his command. He was **also** an ass-hole. After months of pleading my case and being denied transfer, I made my anger known and was discharged. Satisfied?" Joy had ended up angrier than she intended, but Miss Baker was not in the least perturbed. [1]

"Ah, I see. I thoroughly enjoyed the novel, Miss Sergeant, but I respect why you might not. I am sorry if I upset you. I merely wish to know better those with whom I work."

"Mm-hmm. If that's all you wanted, I'm heading back." This time Joy left uninterrupted. Her dwindling footsteps echoed in the cavernous space, leaving behind nothing but her softly smiling colleague.

[1] If you've read Catch-22, high five. If not, it's a satirical, cynical, hilariously dark descent into the madness inherent in war, the military, and the human condition. Recommended. Joy Sergeant is actually a name that came up as an in-joke with some work colleagues in a completely different context (We decided to take Peace Corps literally. Captain Compromise and Admiral Love-boat will not be making an appearance). I actually only came up with her backstory after plucking the name for my own use, and the rest wrote itself. I won't be making too many references that matter to me, but I included this one for slight character building reasons.


	5. Part 1: Interlude 1

**Here's one last little upload for a short while. I'm sorry it's short, but I want to space this little tale out during the main story so I'm keeping a chunk of it in reserve until I know how long everything else is going to be. I imagine that by Friday, I'll have a fair bit extra done of both this and the main plot, so you can in all likelihood expect to see a similar upload spree then. To those few who have pointed things out to me: know that your advice is appreciated and integrated (I have trouble sometimes keeping track of who uses what naming honorifics or conventions, and I'm sure I messed up at least one of those here, so I fully expect further comments). To those reviewing: thank you for both the ideas and the motivation (There's nothing like knowing in advance there's a reason to keep writing)! To those reading and enjoying, I only hope you can find enough entertainment here to continue. In that aim, and without further ado, I present to you something completely different.**

 **Interlude 1:** [1]

4:46 P.M., December 23rd: Yomikawa Aiho's apartment, Academy City

Camped out on the couch after another lazy day, a certain Accelerator was doing his very best to ignore the two girl's argument. They had been yammering on in the hallway behind him for the last 10 minutes, and it was getting to point that the boy was ready to intervene. He could block out their voices with his reflection, but that wasted battery power and it was a pain to charge it up more often than needed. With an internal sigh he finally began listening more closely to their argument.

"You don't know anything more about Christmas than Misaka Misaka does! Shouts Misaka, as Misaka waves her arms frantically at the thought of Worst's implications!"

"You're less than a few months older than me, you little brat, and besides, Misaka has the more mature brain, so she can think about these things rationally."

"Misaka Misaka knows all about Christmas, having researched it extensively, and rationality has nothing to do with it! Yells Misaka, while Misaka holds the computer tablet aloft as proof!"

"Let me see that, you little… Well, what have we here? Misaka sees nothing about consumerism here, just fluff about gifts, friendship, good cheer, and… love! Hah! Misaka laughs at what surely is a joke!" The taller girl broke out into uncontrollable laughter as Last Order pouted intensely. Worst's sadism was clearly in full swing today, as she enjoyed the little girl's considerable angst. "Christmas is just a made up holiday, Misaka points out: every last little bit is manufactured so you spend money, it's such a scam! I approve: playing with people's emotions is what Misaka loves best." She lightly tossed back the tablet to Last Order, who caught it in a huff.

"Misaka Misaka understands that Christmas isn't perfect, but Misaka Misaka firmly believes it is about more than just money and things! Says Misaka, as Misaka extolls the virtues of giving and family!" Accelerator felt more than heard the rush of movement as Last Order careened over the back of the couch to land harshly on his stomach. Winded from the sudden assault, he was forced to accept the tablet being thrust into his gasping face. "Misaka Misaka begs that you look at this and make the mean one understand! Misaka pleads, as Misaka as anxiously desires your support!"

"Get off me, brat." Accelerator spared no time shoving to the floor the little girl, who landed with a solid thump. "And remember what I said about climbing over the couch? Don't land on me." He continued to grip the hand-held device, however, and spent a second perusing it. What appeared to be a children's educational site contained colourful illustrations, showing a decorated conifer tree remarkably similar to the one his hostess had put up on Last Order's demand a few days ago. Nearby was a large man in a red jump suit, driving a sleigh pulled by what could only be horned deer. The ridiculous image wasn't too familiar to Accelerator, but he knew enough to tell that they were all obvious signs of Christmas. As for the meaning behind it… [2]

Last Order had recovered instantly from her fall and was already gripping his arm intently, watching him read closely. He heard a noise behind him and saw Misaka Worst peering over his shoulder at him from above, leaning close over his head. Each was intently awaiting his judgement, and Accelerator had no idea what to say to them.

"… I don't know anything about Christmas. And I care less. Now shut it." He finally responded, slapping the tablet back into Last Oder's arms before rolling over to face the couch's back cushions.

The moment's silence following Accelerator's pronouncement was thoroughly shattered by twin screams of shock.

"B-b-bu t Tou-san is older than both of us! Misaka can't believe he doesn't understand all the black intentions behind this Christmas crap!" Worst shook her head with disdainful wonderment.

"No no no! Demands Misaka, as Misaka is both unwilling and unable to believe his words! He has to believe like Misaka Misaka that Christmas is about good things, not bad ones! Misaka wails, as Misaka shakes Accelerator's arm to hopefully shake sense into the rest of him!"

For some reason, Worst had decided to join in on the shaking, presumably secure that Accelerator wouldn't kill her if Last Order was doing it too. Each girl began pulling the beleaguered boy this way and that, but while he reflected on exactly how much force he could justify using to remove them the front door opened.

"Oi oi, what is all this shouting about? Don't you know it's almost Christmas?" Yomikawa Aiho stomped through the door, slinging at Worst a large shopping bag filled with groceries. She barely caught it, though it nearly knocked her off her feet. "Put those away, why don't you, and make yourself useful? And Last Order, you left your toys all over the hall: go pick them up before someone trips." With her usual forceful personally, Yomikawa had managed to restore a semblance of control that for once, Accelerator was truly grateful for. Half reclined on the couch after his ordeal, he began to settle back down when he heard Yomikawa's voice continue. "What were you kids even fighting about, anyway?"

"Misaka Misaka was trying to help everyone understand what Christmas is all about, but the mean one is trying to poison our minds! Misaka argues cleverly as Misaka gives a clearly biased retelling of events to make her position look better!" In response to Last Order's accusation, worst pulled her head from the fridge with a short cruel laugh.

"Hah! Short-stack here is too childish to realize that Christmas is all about goods and capitalism! Misaka understands too well the dark sides of human nature. No one is only motivated by crap like love and kindness." She resumed putting away various foodstuffs, pointedly ignoring Last Order's blown raspberries.

Accelerator had finally turned away, lounging in marked indifference, but he could not help overhearing Yomikawa's boisterous reply.

"What, you want to know the meaning of Christmas? That's easy. You should have just asked me!" Despite their own certitude the two girls looked expectantly up at their host, and even Accelerator was inclined to turn around and lean over the couch one last time. With dramatic flair she waved a long tube of salami in the air, brandishing it like a battle standard. "It's about eating loads of really unhealthy food, and doing as little as possible all day long!"

"…Maybe I can get behind this holiday after all." Accelerator broke the terse silence with a rare example of humour. It remained unheard in the ensuing chaos, as each clone struggled to resume their debate. His plan to slip away from focus failed though, as Yomikawa came up behind the couch and leaned over it, looking down at him from above.

"So, Accelerator. Have any **real** thoughts about Christmas?"

"Hmmph. As few as possible."

"You know, all kidding aside, both the girls are right in a way. Christmas is a time to get presents for those close to you, to show you care."

"I don't have anyone close to me." But Accelerator had walked into her trap.

"I didn't say **you** specifically had to get presents, did I? What, is that what you're concerned about?" Now that Yomikawa's teasing had begun in earnest, it was all the boy could do to restrain his rising anger. "I could help you, if you're having trouble thinking of ideas to get people. I already have my shopping done: I even got something for a certain grumpy guts Grinch…" Aiho's words had their desired effect, though Accelerator did not realize it.

"Tch. Enough of this shit! I'm heading out. It's too loud in here." Reaching for his cane, the crippled boy stood as fast as he was able. As much as his limp would let him, Accelerator stomped past his roommates and out the door. "Don't follow me. I'll eat when I get back." He didn't quite slam the portal shut behind him, but the intent was obvious.

"His panties are in as much a bunch as usual…" Yomikawa chuckled to herself as she left the kitchen, leaving both Last Order and Misaka Worst alone in the apartment's front rooms. A long thoughtful silence followed.

"Truce? Misaka offers honestly to her rival as Misaka hopes to prosper in mutual gain."

"Though it pains me… Misaka accepts. Oi! Get your damned coat on, or he'll kick my ass later!"

[1) We interrupt this fan-fic for an unscheduled side-story. I didn't want to focus too exclusively on the two main protagonists, but couldn't find a good way to work anybody else in. So, here we are! As a spoiler for something a long way down the road, expect Christmas appearances from most of the main cast at some point. A LONG some point, but some point.

[2] Oh yes. There will be feels. Brace for impact folks: there are going to be implications of No. 1's life explored here. While mostly my own ideas, they just extrapolate from what could be read into already.


	6. Part 1: Chapter 5

**Hello again, folks, and welcome to a slightly early release! I had more time than I thought to build up a backlog, so this is out today. Expect something else Friday, and probably Sunday and/or Saturday. Also, for some reason, my symbols for breaks in time ( ~~~~~~~~ ) are bugged out, and won't save if unless I put some characters in front and behind them. I don't know why they worked before, but at some point I'll edit them all to be consistent. !~~~~~~~~~! means the same, I swear!**

 **Anyway, we pick up back with our main story now. Things are going to speed up a little bit, and by Chapter 8 I promise some drama. Action will absolutely be coming as well, but I like to set things up well and create tension in many different ways first. With that said, we rejoin Touma and Mikoto...**

 **Chapter 5:**

5:26 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, 7th floor, inside a _Koshka_ store [1]

The department store was hardly crowded despite the season, so Mikoto had plenty of time to browse in front of the same display without bothering other customers. The store wasn't quite in her usual range of attire, being marketed for girls her age and older, but she couldn't bear to obviously shop for childish clothing in front of that idiot.

As she thought of him once again, Mikoto could only sigh heavily into the clothes rack in front of her. She usually didn't replay her encounters with that idiot in her head until they were already done, and it wasn't even 5:30. Yet all she could focus on was on the first hour they had spent together in the Dianoid proper.

!~~~~~~~~!

Flashback: Approximately 1 hour ago. [2]

"So… Biri-biri, what exactly am I going to be doing? You never really said…" Those innocent words spoken by a certain spiky haired idiot had shaken Mikoto to her core. They had just come to a halt from the girl's initial rampage in front of a small drink stand, where Mikoto quickly purchased each of them a warm candy-cane flavoured cocoa. As Touma asked what he assumed was a simple question, she gave what she thought was the obvious response.

"You don't remember? I've still got some Christmas shopping to do and you're going to carry… carry the… gifts…" She trailed off as gears began spinning in her head. _Wait a minute. The only gift I have left to buy is his… He can't carry that! Heck, I can't even let him see me buy it! But he's right here! Oh no. D-did I really not think this through!? Why the Hell did I even do this!?_ _What was I **THINKING**!?_

"Uh… what are you thinking about, Biri-biri?" Touma had politely waited for a response, but rapidly realized something was amiss from the light sparks playing around Mikoto's bangs. _What could she be embarrassed about? It's just Christmas shopping. Heck, it's not even the first time she's roped me into something like this. Just play it cool, Touma…_

"NOTHING! And my name is MISAKA MIKOTO! How many times-ARGH!" _D-damn it, I've got to stay calm, I can g-get out of this mess. I need to stall…_ With supreme effort the esper maintained her composure, but this only served to worry Touma more. In his experience, it was quite literally the calm before the electrical storm. "L-look, my legs are tired, let's go find somewhere to sit down for a second. W-while I plan my route." The boy could only nod mutely in response and pray he survived the evening.

They ambled slowly around the one of the mall's many levels, Touma on the lookout for an unused bench while Mikoto plotted at a furious pace. _I've gotten something for everyone else… there's no one I missed… Maybe I could get a few extra little things for everyone, I can afford it. But… will he think I'm cheap then for getting small gifts? He already calls me "Ojou-sama" all the time; I don't need any more of that! Maybe I could make some people up, an uncle maybe… Seriously, that is so stupid._ Finally her number was up as Touma led the way to an unoccupied rest stop.

As soon as they sat down, Mikoto came to an epiphany. There **was** someone she hadn't taken care of yet, and that would suit as an appropriate patsy. Plus, he really did deserve recognition…

"Ah… I'm getting a gift for Gekota-doctor! After all, he's helped out so much with my sisters, plus given me loads of advice." _Even if some of it was stupid advice about a certain idiot._

"Oh! Hmmm. Say, that's a really good point. I feel bad now that I forgot about him too; all the times he's looked the other way when it came to my accidents… Damn, and I've got barely anything left to spend on him… I'm so broke." Mikoto was surprised by his response, but realized that if anyone could owe more to the Heaven Chancellor thatn her, it was Touma. He really did need to manage his finances better though. "I guess I should be grateful I have so many people in my life worth thanking, eh Bi-Misaka-san? It sure makes Christmas expensive, though." He grinned over at her, before ruminating on his options.

Her surprise only deepened as Touma went on. _Of course he's broke, he's helped and been helped by so many people. And that's only counting the ones he has memories of! That's a lot of gifts to think about._ Slightly ashamed by her own quick condemnation of his fiscal abilities, she resolved to help him as she could.

"T-that's good, actually. I m-mean, good you also haven't gotten him something yet either! How about, if you can help me pick something out, I'll let you sign your name on it?" Touma's jaw practically cracked the carbon floor at this opportunity: with her paying, he might actually be able to get a gift that was representative of everything he owed to someone. He hesitated a moment, however, as he struggled to preserve what he perceived as his manly integrity.

Part of the issue was in letting a younger person, let alone a female younger person, buy him so many things or use her money in ways that made him feel even less respectable than usual. Though remarkably humble in many ways Touma still carried some notions of personal responsibility. On an even more basically level, always being the one receiving gifts and benefits from her didn't seem right at all. It wasn't even as if Mikoto owed him any more: if anything, her actions in the last month had swung the scale the other way as far as he was concerned.

"W-well, I mean, that's a great idea, but I don't know if I can just let you buy it for me-"

"It's NOT for YOU, is it!? So just accept the deal already. Heck, you're the one doing me a favour! Plus you still owe me, so you HAVE to agree, got it!?"

"Okay okay, I agree!" _Well, okay I guess. She's dead set on doing me another favour. Damn it, how much am I going to end up owing her?_

"P-plus I remember that I n-need a few things that I forgot to ask others for, all right? And some p-personal things. S-so I'm getting those as well!" Mikoto sighed deeply as she managed to recover from her lack of foresight earlier in the week. _Well, that was a close one, but I think I-_

"…You're buying things for yourself at Christmas? Really, Bi- I mean, Misaka-san, what if-"

"IDIOT!" Sparks quickly flared. "DO YOU **WANT** TO DIE!?"

"I'M SORRY PLEASE LET ME FINISH! I was going to say, what if… if there are people who still have to buy things for you?" He had to rush to get it out, praying that explaining before the explosion might prevent it for once. To his pessimistic shock, it worked, though instead of mollifying the girl it just sent her into flushed embarrassment.

"M-me? Everyone I know has bought things already, they told-" _WAIT_. _Oh gosh. D-does he mean… Is he implying himself? Is he going to…? WAIT, WHY_ _ **HASN'**_ _T HE YET!? But, it's not like I want that anyway! I DON'T CARE, REALLY! But… oh, I can't get mad now, he'll know… AGH!_

Meanwhile, Touma could only pray that he was navigating the minefield that was Mikoto's responses to everything he said. _Okay, was that because she figured out I haven't gotten anything for her yet, or did I call her Biri-biri without noticing? Damn, it's hard to remember that. Time to go with my gut I guess! ...Why does that sound so familiar?_ [3] "Uhm, Bi-Misaka-san, let's just focus on the Heaven Chancellor, okay? Do you know anything about his personal tastes? Hobbies?" This had the desired effect, as both of them were eager to change the topic.

"U-uhm, well, all the doctors my Dad talked about when I was younger go golfing, but I don't think that suits Gekota-doctor. Maybe a good book?" Mikoto had really not thought this far ahead when she made up her excuse for dragging along Touma. _Maybe he actually will be useful for this._

"What sort of thing would he even read about? Cutting edge neuro-science? Or something funny, to relax?" The boy seriously considered the problem, until he decided to risk making a light joke. "…You don't think he reads manga, do you?"

"Pff! Sure he does." The image of the serious doctor reading something like that made Mikoto snort into her cocoa. "I wonder what kind he prefers: adventure, comedy, or maybe erotic? Hmhm…" Though she could chuckle, Touma grimly recalled the doctor's somewhat perverted approach to his fellow staff and quickly vetoed that idea in his mind.

"W-well, maybe something more serious. Clothing perhaps? A nice watch?"

"Operating doctors don't wear watches all that often. Too many ticking patients after stressful procedures." Touma coughed as he choked on his drink, only deepening Mikoto's teasing grin. The joke was funny, but he was more surprised that his half-hearted attempt at humour had actually tickled Mikoto's funny bone. She was being surprisingly friendly today. _It must be because we're working together towards a common goal: that does tend to reduce her attacks._ She continued talking, for once a little oblivious to his presence. "I've also never seen him in anything other than scrubs, so clothing might be difficult to choose."

"Well, maybe we could go walk around and browse some stores, get some ideas? That is, if your legs aren't still tired." For a brief moment, Touma was distracted by the thought of him carrying her around. Yet even in his daydreams, the only ending to that he could imagine was him getting a good shock. While he was preoccupied he failed to notice he had embarrassed his shopping partner once again. Mikoto shot from the bench like the railgun she was so aptly named for.

"I'M FINE. I mean, I'm not tired! Come on, let's GO already!" She gripped his arm tightly again and led off her companion. This time, though, her pace slowed after a moment bit, and the tension eased from her spine. They began walking at an even pace, side by side past the numerous shops and boutiques, both of them entirely failing to notice they had somehow linked arms.

They had perused multiple shops, picking up small things for Mikoto's friends that she liked, but neither had any luck thinking of a gift for the doctor. They had traversed nearly all the lower floors on the mall, debating ideas without serious interruption.

Until of course Mikoto had run past this very store, which held in the window a certain dress that absorbed her attention. _What a nice shade of blue_. She looked at it absentmindedly, her reduced pace prompting Touma to stop and have a look of his own. His eyes followed hers, and he smiled.

"That's a pretty dress, all right." He leaned forward, but lurched backwards when he saw its price tag. His grimace turned to a sigh when he gave up on yet another hope for a certain suitable present, yet before he could turn away a glimmer on a shelf next to dress caught his eye. "Hey, isn't that a pin of that frog you like so much?"

"Wha, really!? They shouldn't stock these here! My collection guide says-" Forgetting herself, Mikoto's excitement grew as she hoped to make another Gekota conquest. However, it was only for an instant before she remembered where she had seen both the pin and dress before. "...ACK!" She stumbled back from the store, dragging a baffled Touma along for the ride. _WHY ARE THOSE HERE!?_ Silently screaming to herself, she rapidly debated between passing out and running away.

The boy with her had no idea what had set off such a reaction. "Whoa, Bi-Misaka-san, what's wrong?" Remembering she wasn't alone, Mikoto fought down her beating heart and gave the best answer she could on the fly. _Alright, remember, play it cool! This isn't his fault... Deep breaths. Can't just keep zapping him over everything, eh!?... Hehe... Gah. Who am I kidding._

"I-I just didn't expect to see those… things here! At this particular store, I mean… Eh-heh. Uhm, d-do you mind if I go in an look around at the store for a bit? I'm more interested in their merchandise now, you see. 15 minutes is all I need, I promise!"

"Oh! Uhm, mhm. No worries, I'll wait here." Not even trusting himself to tease Mikoto about her Gekota obsession, Touma could only watch as he was left carrying dozens of small bags that had suddenly materialized in his arms. "Oh yeah. This is why I'm here. Such misfortune…"

!~~~~~~~~!

"Gah, he's always so damn embarrassing. Even when it's not his FAULT, he's embarrassing. Stupid dream. GAH!" Mikoto returned from her current daydream to reality, staring a rack of clothing she held little interest in. _If only I hadn't decided to make TODAY the day I try to not get embarrassed by him. What was I thinking!? Did I think overexposure would somehow build up an immunity?_ For a moment she buried her face into a particularly ugly maroon sweater, exhaling heavily. _Ugh, why is everything so HARD!?_ Looking over to her left, she could Touma sitting on a bench outside the store, surrounded by her numerous small purchases. He was taking a short break, presumably to avoid entering the female-centric clothing store his companion suddenly chose to browse. When he felt her gaze, he looked up and gave a cheesy wave. His hand formed tentative thumbs-up, which perplexed Mikoto until she realized she was sill holding the sweater tightly in front of her. In a flash she had balled it up and nearly hurled it at the boy, who now was cowering in terror, but a look from a mall security guard convinced her to drop the issue. Instead, Mikoto hung it back up on a hanger and disappeared deeper into the store, silently fuming at the world around her.

The large outlet boutique had plenty of room to explore, taking up a large chunk of the 7th, 8th, and 9th floors. The girl only wandered for a minute cooling off when she remembered the ulterior reason she had come into this shop. _Right! I said I'd be here for around 15 minutes… that's plenty of time to duck out and head to a coat store and pick something up for him! I know his measurements, more or less. If I get it express delivered, I can avoid both having him see it AND awkwardly giving it to him in person on Christmas!_ Confident that her plans were back on track, Mikoto jogged to an interior escalator to make her cunning escape.

!~~~~~~~~!

On the padded bench, Touma breathed a soundless thanks to the security figure that had warned off Mikoto. The woman was dressed surprisingly heavy body-armour, but wasn't visibly armed. She clearly looked capable, setting the boy at ease. After checking on the purchases his friend had already made, he leaned back and stretched languorously, enjoying what had so far been a relatively quiet evening. _It's nice to just relax like this. I ought to do this sort of thing more oft- …Heh, what am I thinking? You know better, Touma._ His mood was slightly disturbed by his own wandering imagination, but if nothing else he could appreciate the peace and quiet.

Sharing the same bench a few feet away sat a young man. He was likely in a similar situation, rolling his eyes as a young woman inside the same store as Mikoto was, but his companion was fawning over some particularly choice item at a cash register. He noticed Touma's glance, and gave a knowing chuckle.

"You too, eh?"

"Hah, yeah. Such misfortune."

"Girlfriends, am I right?"

"Hah, ye- I mean NO, just friends!" _Please don't let her hear this!_

"Really? From the looks I saw… Well, that's a pity. Give it time, kid." Clasping a friendly hand to Touma's shoulder, he joined his partner who was just leaving the store. After rearranging their bags they left, leaving a certain confused boy to scratch his head. Instead of dwelling on his minor discomfit, he looked down at his phone's clock.

 _Is 15 minutes going to be long enough for her in there? I don't really want to rush her, but we did make that reservation for supper at 6…Well, I guess I'll leave it up to her._ Placing a hand on the bags to both sides, he closed his eyes and dozed lightly. Had he known just how closely he was being watched, he would never have rested so easily.

Touma's eyes fell half-closed as he began idly tracing the pattern of the stores flashing sign. It had only been a minute, but he was already getting bored. _Heck, I hardly believe it, but I actually miss her comp-_

"Please don't turn around, Kamijou Touma. That would be… bad." A soft voice right behind his right shoulder tensed every nerve in his body. It took all his self-control not to flee from the threat, but he had been in enough dangerous situations to understand that was suicide. Instead, he froze, and tried to determine what was going on. _That's a girl's voice. Young. Familiar? Who though? What's going on!?_

"Well, Kamijou Touma… I think it's time we had a little talk."

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] Koshka is an actual Japanese store. I don't own it, obviously, and have never even been to one, so forgive me if it doesn't make sense as a suitable location. Let me know if you want to suggest a replacement, and I'll give you both credit and whatever thanks I can give!

[2] Note that this is a bit experimental in structure, and thus could easily be a failure. If it's too awkward or hard to follow, just let me know. I can pretty quickly reorganize it so events happen chronologically. My apologies in advance if it's off-putting, but I'm trying to stretch my skills here.

[3] GUTS! …This is probably his only (very vague) reference in this fic, though, unless things take a real interesting turn later. The No. 7 is a fun character, though, and probably worthy of a real comedy treatment. He just needs a straight-man (comedy term, not sexual preference) as a partner.


	7. Part 1: Chapter 6

**Welcome to the weekend!**

 **So, I didn't realize that NT 13 was going to be available so soon, so this story is gonna be obsolete REAL quick. Never fear, though, I shall continue. And I'll do my best to not let what I read there influence my ideas too much, unless it reveals great character development that I would want to incorporate anyway.**

 **Some people have been wondering if this is going to be just M and T: It's not. This first part is, because it is based on the prompt FOR NT 13, but later sections will bring in most of the cast in some fashion or another. This is also going to be a good length: I'd be surprised if my whole story will be less than 100000 words, all things said. Finally, I love people making predictions and guessing. That is the best feeling. If you want know you've made me giggle like an toddler trying to keep a secret, do that. With that.. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 6:**

5:26 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, 7th floor, Outside a Koshka brand store.

"Who are you?" Trying to keep the rising panic out of his voice, the boy's eyes wandered wildly. Was his mysterious assailant armed? There was no obvious panic in passer-by's developing around him, and he doubted the mall's security would ignore anything but the most subtle conventional weapon. _An esper then or a magician. But who? There's nothing going on right now that I know of, so what gives!? It's almost CHRISTMAS damn it!_ He gave up trying to place the girl's voice, and instead looked around for assistance. Incredibly, the security guard that was standing not 10 feet away was looking aside: it was almost as if she was pointedly ignoring Touma's plight. _Has this girl co-opted the guards too? Damn, this is serious…_

"Don't worry about that right now. If you just answer my questions, everything is going to be just fine." Touma swallowed a gulp, and steeled himself for the worst. If this person hadn't already attacked him, she clearly wanted something other than his rapid exit from life. _I'm not the target then, but how much about me do they know? Maybe I can get the jump on them before they can use an ability…_

"I see that you've been hanging around with a certain Railgun lately. Are you perhaps…?" She left her question hanging, prompting her target to finish. If she expected her question to paralyze him, though, she misjudged completely as his resolve crystallized.

"What do you want with Misaka Mikoto?"

" _Ahah_ , first name basis already, I see? Well, it's nothing you need to concern yourself with, Kamijou Touma. I just need to know what you plan to do if you keep getting… close to her." Touma's right hand involuntarily clenched as recognized the implicit threat to the one he cared about.

"… I don't know what you want, but I will not let you hurt her." He did not know what he expected come follow after that bold response, but the girl behind him sounded shaken.

"W-what?"

"I don't know what group you're with, and I know she has a lot of enemies. But even so, no matter what happens, I'm not going to abandon her or fail to help her." He used this chance to push his advantage, aware he had somehow stolen the initiative from his captor. "I don't care who you are, but I'm not telling you anything about her. And if you threaten her, know that I won't let her face her problems alone again." Even as he spoke, something started to seem off about this whole affair to Touma. _She hasn't made any obvious demands yet, and she doesn't sound like she's going to. What is even going on?_ He took a gamble and quickly pushed off from his seat, turning to face his assailant and launching in a ready pose for fight or flight.

Standing behind the bench, looking equal parts bewildered and out of her depth, was a young girl in oversized sunglasses and a heavy wool coat. A large toque hid most of her long black hair, but something seemed familiar about her.

"Who are you, anyw- Wait a minute. We've met! You're… Aren't you Misaka's **friend**!? …S-Saten-san, wasn't it?" [1]

"…Busted."

!~~~~~~~~!

Flashback: 5 minutes ago.

A short distance away and hidden behind a potted plant crouched Saten Ruiko. It was hard to see the boy clearly though the thick sunglasses she wore, but after hearing a familiar catch phrase she had finally placed her target.

"I knew it!" Fist pumping in celebration, she quickly glanced around to verify no one had seen her. In fact, she was just then being watched by four different security guards and three separate cameras, as the Dianoid's staff had recognized her clumsy attempts to follow the two other students from the moment she entered the front doors. After observing her sneaking after them from before they got their first drinks up until now, and scrutinizing her through dozens of electronic scanners, they had finally determined with bemusement that Saten was completely harmless. However, what at first was sincere paranoia eventually transformed into a training exercise, and by now a fair number of security staff had been rotated to monitor her actions. Even a number of regular patrons were aware of her efforts, but both her and her quarries were so distracted by themselves that they all remained blissfully unaware.

!~~~~~~~~!

In a nearby sealed room, two security guards followed their monitors anxiously.

"She's got the boy alone now. I'm sure my theory's right, just wait." The first man's hand clenched in anticipation. "Declaration of love, here we come!"

"I don't know. She doesn't seem the envious type. Usually they're more… confrontational? I just don't know." The second man repeated his doubt, but remained just as glued to the display as his co-worker. "I still bet she's just looking out for her friend."

"It couldn't be! Look at the intensity of her expression! This is life and death to her!"

"Yeah, but then why is she constantly texting someone? She's clearly acting solo, but relaying information."

"I don't know, maybe it's a love tri- No, a love quadrangle! Man, this is better than a soap opera!"

!~~~~~~~~!

Saten quickly glanced up to confirm the boy was alone before continuing her text to Kuroko.

-Mikoto entered _Koshka_ but just browsing no updates-

She grinned as she returned the phone to her purse. _15 minutes is what Mikoto said, hmm? That's plenty of time to go ask some pointed questions… Gotta be discreet though, I don't want him to recognize me or run off. Let's see, his name was… Touma? Kamijou Touma, I think. Yeah, that's what he said at the Daihasesisai…_

Sauntering in what she imagined was a casual manner Saten stole up on the unaware boy, as multiple security workers tensed in anticipation. She lingered behind the bench for a moment before leaning down next to his right ear.

!~~~~~~~~!

"Hey hey hey! Here she goes! See?"

"No way, I'm still not buying it…"

"Wait, she's just standing… What, a whisper?"

"Wow, he just stiffened! There IS something between them!"

"Oh man oh man, here we go! Hey, radio that guard nearby, give her the heads up. I want a warning if that other girl comes back!"

"What are you going to do, have her give a signal? Why are you helping this random girl?

"True love, man! You can't stand in the way of that!"

The two guards waited for a moment, transfixed by the drama before them.

"Man, I wish we had microphones. What is she saying to him?"

"…Either way, it's still just whispering. If it's really a love confession, why hasn't either moved for a full minute? She's not even getting in front of him!"

"Oh! Look! Look at his hand! He's getting ready to stand up! HERE WE GO!"

As the climax was reached, each could only stare as the boy shouted something in shock before falling to the ground in a stupor, clutching his chest. The girl looked panicked, before rushing around the bench to his side. The security guard posted outside the store looked up at the camera observing and gave a sincerely confused shrug.

"…So… I think you owe me 500 yen."

"…Damn it."

!~~~~~~~~!

5:34 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, 7th floor, Outside a Koshka brand store.

Once the boy had recovered, Saten Ruiko helped him to his feet and deposited him back on his bench. Her shoulders slumped in utter defeat, while Touma began to unwind as he finally grasped that no one was in danger.

"Thank goodness… You really had me going there for a second. Seriously, what were you thinking, threatening a guy like that? I have enough bad luck as it is!"

"Heheh, I'm sorry… I guess I went a little too serious there, huh?"

"I'll say. I understand you're worried about your friend, but that was like something out of a spy movie!" _Or the rest of my life._

"Sorry, sorry…" Saten's apology seemed sincere enough to Touma, but her bubbly personality quickly resurfaced. "I have to ask, though: you had to tell I was a young girl. Did you really think I was threatening you? I thought for a second you were putting on an act! Being so cool and all."

"Frankly, I've been involved in enough trouble that I don't judge it based on its cover." Touma shrugged, leaning back against the bench. "Besides, we both know at least two "young girls" who are alone scarier than a roomful of super spies." Saten's easy laugh at his humour brought a smile to the boy's face, and he relaxed further. He remembered the girl hung around Mikoto a great deal, and was completely willing to accept her quickly explained story. It did seem like the best way to prevent Mikoto's roommate from killing him or worse, and would likely not offend Mikoto too much in end.

"I guess you're right. So, who're you scared of more then?" Saten asked teasingly, but was shocked by his fast response.

"Biri-biri, no question." When he saw the look of surprise on Saten's face, he quickly explained. "Oh, I know she won't kill me: well, probably not. But at the same time, if she heard I let Shirai scare me off from hanging around her, I get the feeling there would be more than one person charred to a crisp." The undeniable logic made sense to his listener, but Touma went on. "And it's not even her reactions, or the fact she's the stronger one of the two, or is the more determined, or anything like that. It's more that she worries me all the time. She's too damn stubborn, and likes to do things to help me and others that just puts her in danger. Plus, as a level 5, she's a big target in this city for a lot of bad people. Even if she's incredibly strong and skilled, all it takes is one bad day. So in that sense? Yeah, she terrifies me."

"Wow. That's… I guess I understand, then, why that'd bother you so much." Saten had no real way to respond to his depth of concern. He had not seemed like the type to be that introspective. He did seem to have Mikoto's character nailed, however, since her frequent vigilante actions were a constant irritation to their judgement friends. Her own ruminations prompted Touma to quickly explain himself further.

"Oh, don't think I regret it. She's worth every bit of stress she gives me, because... Well, because she deserves to be happy. So I'll fight for that smile however I can. Even if it comes at the strangest times. Really, I don't know how much she'd want me to tell you about her past, but she really is someone to look up to."

Saying something like that in such an easy and honest manner stirred a little something like envy in Saten's heart. _Don't think like that, silly girl! Does he have this effect on all the girls he meets? Now I get why Misaka-san gets so worked up over his personality… "_ I see. Well, I guess you gave all the right answers, Kamijou-sempai. You sure convinced me you care about her! You have my blessing!" Saten nodded her head knowingly to the boy, who grinned in response.

"Oh, that's good to hear." A moment's pause. "Blessing for what?"

"…Uhm… You two continuing to secretly date?" Touma practically flew from the bench at her words, grabbing a startled Saten by the shoulders.

"WHOA whoa whoa, h-hold on there! N-no, we're only friends! Us? Dating? Are you kidding!? Seriously, who told you that!? If Biri-biri finds out someone is spreading rumours, she'll flip! We've got to warn them!" Touma looked around the hallway frantically, half expecting his bad luck to summon Mikoto instantly at the worst possible time. Poor Saten managed to recover from his outburst, but remained surprised.

"Only friends? But after all those things you said-" With her confused words, Touma calmed down considerably.

"Oh, is that it? I'd do that for anyone, really, for my own reasons. But I do care about her, and not just because she's done a lot for me in turn." He had fallen back a little from his earlier pounce forward, but his face remained close to Saten's. He began to chuckle as he released his hold on her. "H-heh, us two dating… man, as if. Even if she didn't spend most of her time trying to kill me, it's not like I've got anything going on she wants. You've seen the way she flares up at me."

 _Yeah, and now I REALLY get why she gets so fired up! Is he actually this oblivious? He's as bad as she is!_ Despite this initial impression, Saten couldn't help looking more closely at this boy of surprising depth. She thought perhaps she saw something hidden in his face that even he was only dimly aware of. Though he was clearly attempting to hide it with humour, the girl was too good at reading emotions to be fooled by Touma's misdirection. _No, it's not really just that, is it Kamijou-sempai? Maybe in part, but you don't feel that inferior to her… what is it? You say you're afraid, but you don't seem to be…Yet I see hesitation? Do you not know how she feels? How **you** feel? Or is it something else…? _[2]

Touma was too lost in his own ruminations to notice Saten's pondering. Eventually a gear clicked in place in brain, and his face brightened with relief. "Wait a minute… What she wants… YES! I, Kamijou Touma, have a brilliant plan! You can help me with my little problem!"

"I-I can?"

"Yes! Please, this means a lot to me, and it's for Mikoto! I know you have no obligation to trust me, but it's important!"

"W-well, when you put it like that, of course I'll help!" _Wow, he didn't even use the fact I tormented him into pressuring me! What a guy!_

"Allright, now, here's what I'm thinking…"

!~~~~~~~~!

Mikoto practically sprinted down the escalator within _Koshka,_ dodging past slower shoppers. _That took too long, damn it! Now I don't have time to grab that Gekota pin! Oh well, I guess I can wait until after Christmas. At least the jacket is taken care of: now I can finally relax a little._ She rounded the last aisle leading to the hallway where she had left a certain spiky haired idiot, but found him crouched over and whispering into the ears of a shorter person. A shorter person with long, black hair and decidedly feminine coat.

"YOU DAMNED IDIOT!" Stray licks of lightning cracked from her brow as Mikoto accelerated towards a soon-to-be-regretful boy when a strong gloved hand slid in front of her path. "WHAT-HEY!" The arm was attached to the same security guard from earlier from outside the store, but she had somehow intercepted Mikoto before she could exit.

"Leave those two- I-I mean, stop right there, shoplifter!" Her accusatory tone stopped Mikoto in her tracks, blinking blankly in surprise.

"Wha-wha-what? Me!? No, I- I didn't-"

"A likely story! Why are you in such a hurry then? And yelling, to an accomplice maybe?!" The guard seemed oddly dramatic for the circumstances, but Mikoto was too busy trying to peek around her shoulders at her quarry in the hallway.

"I'm not, I swear, I didn't, I-I just need to-"

"You're going to need to let me do a scan, little miss, before I let you through!" Pulling out a handheld scanner, the guard began passing it front of Mikoto, who could think of no reasonable means of escape. Just when she was about to consider administering a minor shock to short out the device, the guard stiffened suddenly and stepped aside. "All right, you're free to go. No more yelling, and- HEY, STOP RUNNING!" It was effectively too late to stop the girl, as Mikoto bounded out from the store. An extremely suspicious Touma was rubbing the back of his head and failing despite every effort to look nonchalant.

"O-oh, hey Bi-Misaka –san, did you find anything go-"

"Where is she? Who was that girl!?" Mikoto whipped her head around in every direction, but the miscreant was missing: the guard had stalled her for too long.

"Wha- Oh, you mean that middle-schooler? Uh…I was giving her directions!" _TECHNICALLY true, so I don't have to feel bad about lying!_

"Is that so, huh!? Why'd she run off then in such a HURRY?"

"Uhm… Well, you might have scared her, you know, with the all the yelling?" _Man, I've gotten better at misdirection lately_. Touma thought to himself with perverse pride. "A-and besides, why are you so upset? I mean, it's not like you have any reason to be jeal… AH! I-I MEAN, **concerned** about me, right?" _Wow, that was close! Never mind, no more trying to be sneaky again for Kamijou Touma! I could have died!_ Miraculously, his words seemed to be having a positive effect on Mikoto's wrath. She actually paused a second before continuing her tirade, now blushing furiously.

"Ah-h, mmm… W-well, whenever I've left you alone before in the past, you've managed to run off and escape on some stupid adventure or something! You still owe me, so I can't let that happen again, you hear!?" _OOOH, I leave for 15 minutes, and he's already hitting on someone! GAH! I need a damn leash, or a shock collar, or- NO, no, I don't care! I really don't care. I don't. Calm down, Mikoto, i-it's not like he's y-y-y-yours, or anything…_

"I see, I see… Fair point. Eheheh…" _That actually is a fair point. I really need to get better about explaining things, at least to those people who should know…_ Glancing at her hands, he noticed she wasn't carrying anything, and let out a relieved sigh. _So she didn't buy it! I didn't see her pick one up, but I was distracted for a bit. Thank goodness, I've still got a chance then!_ "Anyway, if you're done in there, shouldn't we be heading down to dinner? They recommend arriving early."

"O-oh, right! Yes, and it's a few floors down, we should go! Come on, don't dawdle!" The harshness with which she yanked his arm illustrated that Mikoto hadn't fully forgiven Touma for his misunderstood indiscretion, but he was just happy to be moving away from the store.

They darted into an elevator, and just as the doors closed a certain sneaky Saten peeked out from behind her hiding bush. Sighing heavily, she straightened her sunglasses and strolled up to the _Koshka_ she had fled from a moment before.

"Allright… time to get to work!" _I feel like some sort of secret agent match-maker! Gosh, this is awesome! Like, secret-Saten or something… Wait. I'm their secret Saten, AND their secret Santa! Eeeheeheehee!_ Unaware her glee was audible, Saten giggled her way into the store, skipping lightly as she fully embraced the holiday spirit.

!~~~~~~~~!

"And that, my friend, is how you protect true love! They'd thank me if they knew."

"You fancy yourself some sort of cupid, Mr. Mall Cop?"

"Hey, someone's got to look out for young lovers! Who says we can't secure happiness as well as safety?"

"I think our contracts. Somewhere under 'doing our jobs'…"

"Quiet you. Now, let's get back to work. And by work, I mean watching them."

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] I think at least one person guessed this fake out. If you're surprised Touma knows who Saten is that well, you might have a fair point. However, the railgun manga provides a few meetings and interactions. I feel Touma is smart enough, especially in times of perceived danger, to connect the dots between various random sightings of her with Mikoto and now, especially considering her silly disguise. I think at least one in the light novels supports this interpretation of his knowledge of her as well. Either way, take it or leave it. Perhaps sometime between now and Christmas all the girls and him were formally introduced? Could be a potential other fic…

[2] Some people might not agree with both Saten's ability to perceive these things, or Touma's confused feelings. Obviously I disagree, but I feel like given that she is the most grounded of the 4 girls, she probably has a pretty good grasp on more mundane, every day life things. And Touma, however oblivious he is, probably lies to himself on a regular basis about his experiences, even if it's more humility and avoidance than anything else. Let's be frank, with all the stress he lives through, it'd be hard not to! Some people have noticed before his issues, it's just usually you can't peer into their minds like I do here.


	8. Part 1: Chapter 7

**Hello again, folks! I'm glad people are enjoying developments so far: up to now, I've really been highlighting the "humour" aspect of this story, which I think is how the original books thematically feel. However, more serious things are on the horizon. Wednesday's chapter in particular is going to start shifting towards some "adventure", which will hopefully be interesting (I wish I could have more than 2 theme tags per story: I like complex tales, dang it). However, that leaves this chapter, number 7, for perhaps a bit of something different...**

 **Any-who, enjoy a longer one if that's your thing! If not, brace for impact: the next is a little worse.**

 **Chapter 7:**

6:34 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, 3rd floor, inside a restaurant

The restaurant was everything Kamijou Touma feared about the Dianoid. Beautiful wood panelling and lush velvet carpets elegantly glowed in the light of the candelabras on each table. Even though the candles were not real, they probably cost more than the real thing, which only aggravated the boy's concern. Worse yet, his clothing wouldn't have looked appropriate at a sports concession stand, yet here he was dining in front of Misaka Mikoto, who looked perfectly at home despite being relatively under dressed. Luckily for the both of them, the eatery wasn't actually high class but rather tailor-made to give off that illusion. Even if the Dianoid catered mainly to high-class students they remained just students, and despite the place's prices there were no more than the expected odd looks thrown at Touma's attire.

Though the boy had nearly gone into shock at the cost of even the simplest meals, Mikoto dragged him inside after promising to pay. While Touma characteristically resisted being an imposition, she had justified it as way of apology for taking longer than she planned to today. When it became apparent he could not refuse, he made her promise in turn to let him cook a meal for her sometime. Though her response had nearly shorted out the entire establishment, a deal was struck, and here Touma sat in vexation. Even if he wasn't paying, the mere thought that food could cost this much made him terrified Index would find out about it.

"It's not going to bite you." The boy whipped his head around at Mikoto's sudden words, her arched brow clearly raised in moderately good humour. She had been nervous when they had initially sat down, but had recovered when she realized Touma was actually the more tense. _It's a lot easier to deal with him when he's the one embarrassed. I need to remember that..._

"Hmm? What?" In response, she pointed the fork she had been toying with at the object of the boy's fascination.

"The candelabra. I know you probably haven't seen one before, but I promise you it's not an enemy."

"Hey, I'm not that uneducated! I know what it is, it's just…"

"…Just what?"

"It's just it doesn't look very balanced, and it's right on the centre of the table: when the food gets here I'm going to break it, I know it." If Touma could ever be said to be pouting, it was in moments when he couldn't imagine escaping his own bad luck. "Or it'll be someone else's fault, and I'll get blamed for it, and then we'll get kicked out, and I'll somehow accidentally end up in a compromising situation with a woman and-"

"W-whoa whoa, hold on! I know you say you have bad luck, but isn't that letting your imagination run off with you?" _Wait;_ _did he say something about a woman?_

"Long experience tells me otherwise, Bi-Misaka-san. Seriously, everyone at my school thinks I'm a lucky guy with the ladies, but really it's just one massive coincidence of bad luck that leads to me look like a some sort of pervert-monster. For all the good it lets me do, my right hand comes with a lot of unwanted baggage… Such misfortune." His comically despondent face almost made Mikoto smile, but then she realized that this presented an opening.

"So your hand is to blame? What's with that, anyway?" She casually asked her question, hoping to pry something out of Touma now that he was in a more relaxed setting. She had been wanting to talk more about his memories for as long as she had known he lost them, but while sitting down today with him she resolved to tack a different direction. If his past was inaccessible, why not try for the present? Though he hesitated, Touma eventually realized there really wasn't much point in not giving her a more thorough explanation.

"Pretty much, though I don't understand most of it. Even when people aren't drawn to directly target me to use its power, Imagine Breaker can apparently negate the world's natural good luck and blessings that people normally get. I don't know why it leaves me with the **bad** luck, but maybe my life is actually just baseline zero luck." He shuddered at that thought. _If this is just neutral, I'd hate to see what REAL bad luck was like._ [1]

"If I hadn't seen what your hand could do enough times, I'd say you were crazy. But I can't help but believe you, even if I don't believe in luck like that."

"Really? That's reassuring."

"Sure. You're still crazy, though. I also have enough evidence of that." She chuckled while he rubbed his head wryly, smiling along with her. "Did one of those unlucky accidents lead you into your adventures? You know, with Magic and everything." Mikoto knew immediately she had hit something sensitive when his face froze into neutrality.

"Well, yeah. It just sort of messed things up for some people, and then more stuff happened as a consequence. You can guess; it's basically how we met. Oh look, our food is here!" His face instantly lit up again while the server laid down his two trays.

Put off by the derailment of her questioning, Mikoto moodily began her meal. The shabu-shabu [2] she ordered seemed a little tough for her standards, but the price wasn't bad. It wasn't as if she would complain in front of a certain idiot either way, so she focused on her meal. As she dipped her third piece of beef in the provided broth, she began to notice sounds of obvious bliss. She glanced up in surprise at her companion, and had to choke back a comment.

Across the table Touma was inhaling the massive plate of Udon noodles he had ordered, topped only lightly with steamed traditional vegetables. It was the least expensive bulk order on the menu, but he seemed delighted with his choice regardless. _And here I thought he was just trying to be cheap to avoid making me spend money: I guess I'm just glad he's enjoying it._

"Ahh… This is so nice." Touma said with a wide smile as he finished the first third of his meal. At first, Mikoto thought he meant their being together and began to blush, but he continued absentmindedly. "I'd forgotten what it's like to eat out somewhere reasonable! Ever since Index showed up, it's been just supermarket sales and the occasional fast food. It's all I can afford with how that bottomless pit eats..."

"Index?" Mikoto latched onto a word she had heard around Touma more often than she'd normally expect. "Isn't she that rude, long-haired nun that follows you around? She's always there when there's magic going on, isn't she?" [3] _Finally, now we're getting somewhere!_ "But what does she have to do with your money problems?"

"…I said that last bit out loud?" _Damnit Kamijou Touma, you've let your guard down._ "Uhm, well, it's a little complicated…"

"We have time."

"Ahahah, y-yeah, I guess…" _Crap, she's got me trapped now. Well, she doesn't seem to be too… excitable at the moment. Maybe I can finally explain to her, so she stops assuming the worst about me. If not, at least we're in a public setting, so I doubt she'll actually kill me._ "Y-you have to promise to stay calm, though-"

"Why WOULDN'T I be calm, Idiot!? What are you impl-" _Aaagghh, not now! No, I have to cool it! Deep breaths. If I want to know, I have to listen. If I want to listen, he has to be conscious. Grrr…_ "…Okay. Explain then." It began to be too hard to make eye contact at this admission, so Mikoto instead began stirring the now tepid broth with her fork.

"Eheheh… Well… She's sort of my roommate." Broth splattered all across the table, but Touma was more or less expecting that result.

"…WHA-ah, tch-ch-ch... ...W-w-w-why?"

"…Would you accept me saying I forget?"

"OF COURSE-" _Ah! Right, his memories! Gah, I nearly stepped all over his feelings!_ "…O-of course I would! B-but, that means… she was with you before your…" Mikoto was finding it hard to broach the subject, but with characteristic determination Touma decided to press on.

"Yeah. My memories end after Index and I met. I don't know what happened, and I haven't found out. So, when I said before I couldn't tell you the truth about things, it was because I didn't know it either. I probably never will, but that's okay too." Absentmindedly skewering a number of vegetables, Touma missed the girl's concerned expression. "My first real memories are of waking up in a hospital, looking at her sad, frightened face, and knowing that if I told her the truth she would feel even worse. I couldn't do that, and I still can't. She just sorta stays with me now, helping me deal the Magic world and being a friend... I'm really am okay with the whole... memory... thing, now: the first few weeks were rough, trying to fit in with my old life without anyone noticing the truth and then dealing with Magic that I didn't understand. Either way, the old Touma who knows everything before that is dead: I'm all that's left." The spiky haired boy's wry smile triggered something sharp in Mikoto's heart, which was beginning to learn some of what motivated his relentless drive of self-sacrifice. To Touma, her soft expression prompted more, dragging further confessions unbidden. "I… I also don't remember the first time w-we met. I'm sorry, that's a terrible thing to say… What I first recall is that you already knew my name, when we were next to that vending machine of yours. I didn't remember anything about you, but I knew you were expecting me to say something, to recognize you. I'm sorry I've lied to you so long, I just-"

"You're still you. You know that, right?"

"W-what?"

"I-I mean, you didn't die. Even if you're memories are gone… You're still you. The same annoying idiot who tried to save a Level 5 from street thugs is the same one who saved more than 10000 of that Level 5's sisters… You're you, K-amijou Touma." Though it was hard to say his name, Mikoto felt it was worth the difficulty. Besides, the idiot couldn't see her blush, looking down at his plate like that... Not saying anything... Silent.

"…" The silence of the restaurant was deafening. The servers and other patrons were still talking, making noise, clinking cutlery to dishware, but Touma couldn't hear anything other than his own pulse. The noodles on his plate kept making such interesting patterns, swirling as he pushed them about. After what seemed like eons, part of his mind finally snapped back into place. "…You-You mentioned… thugs."

"U-uh, y-yeah." Mikoto had for a minute been paralyzed with conflicting emotions. It was proving impossible to sort the feelings her embarrassing statement had created: the shame and sympathy about causing Touma's completely uncharacteristic response, and the sadness that she hadn't wanted to admit he must carry. With her words he had blankly retreated into his meal, and so his response broke a long uncomfortable silence. He seemed oblivious to the atmosphere, however, as he took a deep breath.

"Could. …Could you tell me? About it?"

"…Yeah."

!~~~~~~~~!

"Heh… heheh… Oh wow. That does sound like me." Touma's elastic spirits had mostly rebounded as he enjoyed Mikoto's recounting of their first shared exploits. The rescue attempt and the subsequent midnight chases explained from her perspective finally accounted for why she had followed him around for so long. _I guess it makes sense; if nothing else, Biri-biri is confident in her abilities. Though… why is she still bothering with a guy like me now, after all that? I'm just trouble waiting to happen._

He had finished his noodles while she spoke, alternating between animated descriptions and blushing chagrin. Touma could only guess that some bits of the story meant more to her than others, but he was enjoying her eccentricities now that they weren't actively threatening his life. His entertainment eventually ended when her story wound down, each sharing an honest laugh at the unfortunate boy's expense. Though her story was done, she continued talking, more flush with excitement than embarrassment for once.

"I don't remember clearly every time I chas- I MEAN, we **met** after our first duel, but I bet we can narrow it down to a few if we go look up your hospital records! You've been in there plenty of times, but if we knew the date you lost-"

"Ah! T-that's okay, Mikoto."

"Eh? But- OH! M-my apologies! I-" Without realizing it, Mikoto had plunged deep into Touma's personal issues. He couldn't bear her sincere distress at what she thought was a terrible mistake, so he quickly explained.

"Don't apologize, please! Really, I'm grateful you told me all that: more than you could know. But, I don't really care about the specifics now of that day now. I'm just glad I know that I didn't do anything to you before it. I guess I can rest a little easier…"

"O-oh." _W-what? THAT'S what he's worried about? Did he think he was some sort of… Wait. Why would he…_ "Rest easier? What did you think you… what did you think had happened? B-between us, I mean." _He doesn't mean-! NO, No, n-nothing like that... Something bad then? But-_

"Uh…W-well, I figured I must have done something really bad to warrant the way you were attacking me, and you know how many run-ins I have with girls, so- Ah! AGH! CALM DOWN! You said you'd be calm!" He protected his face as best he could with Imagine Breaker, but there wouldn't be much he could do for the store if Mikoto let off the sparks that were brewing.

"YOU! You **idiot**!" She hissed loudly, holding back from making a scene. _I_ _'m trying, but he makes it so damn HARD!_ "D-don't say embarrassing things like that! Idiot! Gah!" She fell back down in her seat with a thump, powers dissipating. Leaning back with a relieved sigh, Touma stretched out his arms, his right hand catching a limb of the candelabra. It pivoted sharply and began to unsteadily spin towards the table's edge.

The world froze for Touma. He was unbalanced himself from leaning back so far, and his heart fell with a sinking feeling. _I can't grab it! But…I have to try!_ With grim determination he threw himself towards the side of the table, leaning down low so her could intercept the expensive light inches above the ground, at the last possible second. He moved so fast he actually tilted his chair, and realized only too late that he was going to join his target on the floor. _Crap! Well, if I can at least catch it, there won't be any costs! Nothing will break today! I, Kamijou Touma, swear it!_ His eyes reached the same level as the candelabra just as it passed the edge of the table, hanging horizontally. _I can do it!_

And then it stopped moving. Impossibly it froze, as if nailed in place.

 _..Huh? B-but… Wha-_

With a crash, Touma's shoulders hit the floor. He rolled onto his back in surprise, and looked up to see Mikoto leaning over the table to peer at him. A thin arc of lighting curled from an outstretched hand, clearly using magnetism to prevent the light's fall. As a finger curled and lifted, so too did the candelabra, floating back to its home.

"Well, at least I'm here to fix your mistakes, idiot." Her cheesy grin only lasted a moment when she that Touma was not looking particularly relieved. She followed his gaze to see first a pair of shapely legs, followed by a long black skirt. Further up stood the rest of a shocked young woman, who happened to be passing by the pair's table. Touma's head had managed to fall directly between her feet, with eyes now closed so tightly they began to water.

"…Can you fix this one?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"O-ow… Such misfortune." Even though a waiter had kindly provided an ice pack free of charge, it only blunted the throbbing pain of his skull's newest lump.

"It **was** your fault, Idiot. Though I think I get what you mean by bad luck now." Though she had been initially furious at Touma for ending up between a woman's legs, she couldn't help quickly taking his side. That had saved him from a fourth kick, and had eventually resolved the chaos which erupted. Multiple other young men had sprung up to defend the random girl's honour, but had faltered at the sight of the angry railgun. In the end, the two managed to pay and get out before causing a serious brawl. They wound up sitting on a bench nearby the restaurant while the boy recovered his poise. The swelling was quite minor, but it certainly hurt enough to make Mikoto's voice drum heavily in his ears. "Seriously, you couldn't fall anywhere else?"

"It's not like I was aiming for her, I swear! Though her feet were softer than the floor. Not as soft as other bits woul-agh! Sorry, sorry!" A minor shock registered Mikoto's displeasure at his thoughts, and he shut up before his unfocused mind got him into any more trouble. Not content with his apology, the girl leaned towards him pointing an accusatory finger.

"ANYWAY. So even if I believe all this luck business is true, AND I'M NOT SAYING I DO, then I guess it's time you start explaining about the magic stuff as well. I've seen enough to know its real, so come on! Tell me already!"

"Ah, well, you see..." _Agh, she's so loud... I don't want to explain this now, I have a hard enough time understanding magic WITHOUT a headache! Maybe I can distract her for a bit, and I can stall for a while. Maybe she'll even forget! "_ Ahh, hey! How about we take a break from shopping for a bit? We can..." _All right, now what?_ The boy looked around slowly before noticing a brightly coloured sign advertising some sort of event in the Dianoid's first-floor main amphitheatre. _Perfect!_ "...Yeah! How about we go down and watch... the... M-magic show? ...Really? Of all things. ...Such misfortune."

"...I guess I believe in luck now. You have none." With a sigh, Mikoto pushed up off the bench to investigate the sign further. Sure enough, it seemed some sort of holiday themed magic-event was taking place at 7:30: they had plenty of time, and admission was free courtesy of the Dianoid. They had specifically flown someone in from America, to give it an exotic feel. There was even a small flash sale alongside the magician providing autographs at 9:15 in the Mall's central hub. _Well, this seems harmless enough. It's not like anything could go wrong there. I'll bug him about real magic later. Ugh... being patient sucks. I want to KNOW!_ "Well, all right then. If we leave now, I'm sure there will still be some seats left."

"What, really? Are you sure? I mean, it's not REAL magic. Y-you know, that, righ-guh!" Focused on holding tightly to his ice-pack, Touma was thrown off balance by Mikoto's strong tug on his free arm. He bounced into her, but she was already on the move.

"Shut it, idiot! Of course I know! Now let's go before you make us late!"

"Right right! Just, stopping moving so fast!"

!~~~~~~~~!

The show was just about to start when they arrived in the main room. It was built like a classic lecture hall, with concentric rings of seats layered up and back in a hemisphere around a lower, centre stage. Even though the mall was quiet, the room bustled with activity. Younger students were common, but even a few adults speckled the rows of raised seats. The only available spots were in the furthest back row, but luckily two together were near the atrium's entrance. Touma and Mikoto scurried to their places moments after the lights when down, and an expectant hush filled the air.

For a few seconds, nothing moved. Then a powerful spotlight clicked into operation. It revealed a small opening on stage's floor, ominous and black and smaller than a fist. As the audience leaned in as one to get a better look, it became apparent that something was trying to force it's way through. It looked like a white ball of fur, or some fuzzy cotton fluff. It eventually succeeded, and was followed by bright red fabric, which tried to expand into a cone once it breached the bottle-neck. Even so, it remained tightly bound at the bottom, proving it was still being forced through the hole. It took a moment, but both students realized together what was being revealed.

"Is that..."

"...Santa's hat?"

As the audience began tittering about the strange display, the hat grew larger and larger. It soon reached 8 feet tall but remained stubbornly nothing more than a hat. With a sudden pop, it snapped open from the hole, and it's base spread out to over half it's height. There it rested, its tip comically falling limp while the crowd's laughter spread.

The trick had only just begun, however. For no sooner had silence begun to fall than a gloved hand popped out from under the oversized hat's rim. It patted about the floor for a moment, almost as if someone was inside looking for a key that had fallen under the couch. Eventually it became clear the person inside was groping about for a bright golden tag that was hanging off the hat's rim nearby. Soon children in the audience began yelling directions to the hand, guiding it a few feet around the base to it's target. When it finally touched it, it paused before giving the audience a thumbs up. Then it gripped the tag tightly, and pulled.

Instead of falling over, the hat exploded into motion, spirally madly but only slowly rising. A dazzling display of red and green ribbons began to twirl about underneath it, bringing with them a thick cloud of smoke. For brief moments a shadowy figure was visible within, but the ribbons spun too quickly to make it clear. Above, the hat rose 10 feet into the air, but then stalled and began to slow it's dance. The ribbons slowed with it, and soon the figure became visible. As he appeared the hat continued to fall and seemed to be shrinking, pulling the festive ribbon's back up into it's confines, drifting down gently to land on a man's head.

As the last of the smoke dissipated, all that remained was a tall man wearing a pale black business suit. His long golden hair spilled out from below it's new topping while his face beamed a huge grin towards the applauding audience. While clapping, Touma leaned over to Mikoto so she could hear him better.

"Wow. That was a neat trick, huh?" Touma's grinned widely, already enjoying himself immensely. He could tell the magician was an excellent entertainer from his confidence and style, and was looking forward to some good laughs. _This was a good idea after all! I think I can enjoy this._

"Heh. Not really." Mikoto brushed her locks away from her shoulder wearing a smirk of her own. "The hat was fully extended for at least 5 seconds. Plenty of time for the floor's hole to open up wider and raise the guy to where he was. The hat itself and the ribbons are just synthetic fibre with some electrical manipulators, I can tell from here. Same stuff they use in Academy City's parachutes. Cool tech, but nothing special."

Smug in herself assurance, she didn't notice Touma's annoyed frown. _All-right, maybe this wasn't a good idea. I guess having an Electromaster around makes most stage magic fairly transparent. Still, she could at least play along. At least it's a distraction._

When the hubbub receded, the magician took a small step forward, raising his arms.

"Good evening, wonderful Academy City! And happy holidays to you all!" More cheers followed, and he took the same small step back. "Thank you for inviting me today, to share with you the joy – and magic – of this very special time of year." He gestured around him. "So many lovely faces, and such warm expressions! You will all make this a very special show, I am certain." He began to pace around the front of the stage, looking thoughtful. "Yes, despite being such a scientific city, there **is** a certain magic in the air. Can you feel it?" Some children playfully answered, but by now most of the audience was waiting for the next trick. Sensing their mood, the magician quickly pressed ahead. "I can. I can tell very well, right up here in my special Christmas hat." He gave the puff on his hat a poke with his finger. While it had before been resting nearly perfectly vertical, something within suddenly lost balance and it crumpled, with the white top dangling in front of his face.

A few chuckles spread through he crowd, while the magician glared cross-eyed in mock annoyance at the offending puff. But when he tried to brush it away, it suddenly avoided his hand before bopping him on the nose. He tried again and again with the same result repeating. As his failed attempts and the puff's dramatic escapes became more elaborate, the audience realized it was another part of his show and began to laugh along. All the while the magician spoke, pretending to have trouble getting out his lines.

"Yes, very magical- VERY magical indeed! Yes, so- so magical that my poor- poor hat here can hardly contain-contain-CONTAIN itself! Calm DOWN, you troublemaker!" In false anger the man finally gave up righting the situation, and the hat seemed almost smug in its lightly swaying victory dangling between his eyes. When the laughter quieted, the man continued again, ignoring is situation, but this time he did not move. Rather quietly, so that most of the audience had to strain to hear, he spoke again.

"I suppose my friend here just wants me to get on with. So begin I shall. But I need my props, which seem to have been left backstage. Well, I'll merely have to move them here." He cracked his fingers dramatically, while various heads in the stands turned to each other, registering their disbelief with derisive chuckles. But Amazo ignored them, and carried on. "Without further ado, I welcome you to a humble evening of wonderment, brought to you with a Christmas twist, by none other than..." He paused again, this time for a nearly 10 seconds, long enough for the crowd to begin to grow anxious.

With a sudden flurry of motion, he grabbed the hat by it's tip, and swung it out in front of him. It quickly expanded, larger than before to more than 15 feet, revealing a cavernous empty interior. But he spun in a tight circle with the hat, so that in a moment both he and the hat faced away from the rows of seats, towards the hall's rear.

When the opening faced away so far no one could see within it, a sudden rush of movement stole the breath from the crowd. Massive objects seemed to fling out from its arc, only to stop immediately upon hitting the ground. There was no sound but the rustling of air, and within the blink of an eye the entire action was over. The hat had shrunk again and the man was totally still, now stooped in a low bow facing the seats, but what remained behind him was astounding.

An entire set worth of magical stage equipment had appeared in an instant. A number of large tables, mystical looking crates and even a spinning wheel with handcuffs strapped to it were present. There was more to look at than could be understood in a minute, but it had all appeared more suddenly than could be believed. And yet the magician had summoned even more than the tools of his trade. Large candy canes formed a fence around the rear of the stage, shining with a mysterious light. From them draped tinsel and garland which seemed to move with a life of their own, sliding and swinging from their lofty perches. Various other odds and ends without obvious purpose were carefully arranged, which managed to look both potently magical but charmingly festive at the same time. In the rear centre of it all was a massive Christmas tree, ornaments arranged in complex geometric patterns, so large that it could hardly have been hidden by the hat at even it's greatest extent. There was nothing to hide this all behind, nothing had moved away, and it certainly had not been there before.

For a long second no one could adequately respond. And in that time, the man straightened up and finally announced his name.

"The Amazing Amazo! Ahaha-HAH!"

A thunderous applause broke out, even as numerous voices struggled to hide their disbelief. For people from the most scientific place on earth, a surprising number were beginning to be swept up in the feeling of magic.

"WOW! Hey, can you explain that one, Miss Science?" Now it was Touma's turn to be smug, as he was greatly impressed with the trick. _I've seen REAL magic that couldn't do that!_

"U-uh... That's... h-hmm." Words failed the girl as she realized there was no way electricity, mirrors, or trap doors could explain what happened. _Maybe a team of espers, but this guy's is from the United States! I doubt we'd give someone like that access to espers THAT strong!_ "G-give me a minute, why don't you!? Sheesh!"

While they bickered, the magician had begun his show in earnest. "It is a rare treat to have such an advanced stage available to us for our show tonight! Please, direct your attention to the monitor above, and you will see why." From the ceiling, a large screen descended displaying only the Dianoid's emblem. "Our hosts assure me that they can randomly pick an audience member from the crowd, who will be our first assistant this show! It's much better than me closing my eyes and pointing, I assure you!" He shared another laugh with crowd, but Mikoto and Touma only just tuned back into the display. "Let us watch together, and see who our lucky vict- I mean, **honoured guest** will be!" The rooms lights dimmed slightly as a the screen changed to showing a wide shot of the crowd. Waving arms of youngsters eager to go up on stage tried to draw its attention, but the computer program was not to be denied. It panned up into the the furthest rows of the room, just as Touma and Mikoto realized where they should be looking.

The unfortunate boy glanced upwards, and saw his own startled face looking back down on him. Jumping a little in his seat and dropping what remained for his ice pack, he looked around him to find the entire room staring at him expectantly. On the stage, the magician beckoned with a grand smile. "Come on down, young sir! Are you prepared to face true magic?"

"...Such misfortune."

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] I always wondered about this, and I don't know if I or anyone else has a real answer yet. It might be that, rather than Touma being completely without luck, it is more about dramatic swings of random luck as the world tries to figure out what to do with him. As in, he distorts what should be likely into something else, because he can't truly negate what is happening in the world's natural luck. Or perhaps it's a crap-sack world with things naturally being more bad than good, and the blessings around normal people are what make reality seem to them to be neutral or even a little positive. Or perhaps, he truly does have good luck, and is just too oblivious to see or admit it? ...Or maybe it's just funnier that he has bad luck. Place your bets?

[2] Shabu shabu is, as far as I can tell, a fairly nice meal in which the meat is cooked at the table by dipping it into simmering broth. I honestly don't know enough about the kinds of meals people would eat at a fairly nice place in Japan, let alone Academy City, so if this depiction ends up being weird just let me know! I'd be grateful for help making this fit better. Basically, she got something pretty nice, while he got something pretty cheap. The equivalent of a Filet-Mignon versus chicken fingers or maybe hot wings is what I'm aiming for here. I might even make it an all you can eat thing if there is a good option.


	9. Part 1: Chapter 8

**Happy Wednesday, folks! Thanks for sticking with me so far. A few people have mentioned they're surprised at how fast things are going between the characters, and that's fair. My personal reasoning is that the Othinus arc must have sown the seeds of some development for the T-man in ways that are going to be noted sooner rather than later. As for Mikoto being surprisingly reasonable, I've always noticed that she gets more embarrassed when Touma is acting either cool, oblivious, or trying to escape her duel attempts. At other times, like in the midst of combat or when they just talking something serious over (NT 6 and NT 10 have a few great examples) it doesn't seem to be as problematic. Really, she still gets flustered hella quick at anything romantic or emotional, but I feel she isn't all that one-dimensional especially after her continuing life experiences. The embarrassment is becoming more of the flavour of her interactions with him, and not merely the meat (It's just part of it, instead of being the only thing). Besides, prolonged exposure to the stimulus that is Kamijou Touma will likely either (a) make her snap or (b) get her accustomed more to it out of sheer stubbornness. And let's be frank, she's one of the few characters who rank near-ish to Touma's levels of willpower, so I'm rooting for (b).**

 **Anyway, last chapter I mentioned that things would heat up: without further ado, it's time to make some Magic!**

 **Chapter 8:**

7:39 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, 1st floor, main amphitheatre

The stillness was broken by scattered tittering from the crowd. A few members were catcalling, upset they hadn't been picked, but most were amused by the haunted despair on Touma's face. Next to him, Mikoto's disbelief was rapidly transitioning to hilarity. _His luck is **insane**! There are hundreds of people in here, and HE gets picked! Oh, it's nice to see him embarrassed for once! Eheheh... _ "Well, then, **Mister Magic**... they're waiting for you!" In rank betrayal she gave him a pointed shove, and Touma stumbled upright.

And so the unfortunate boy began his death march. The weight of many eyes followed him down the central staircase, and Touma knew apprehension like he had rarely felt before. _Of course, just when I'm enjoying the show. Yes, miss, I'm sorry you weren't picked as well._ _It **is** unfair. How many things are going to go wrong now that I'll be up on stage? ...I guess I can be glad he's a guy. _ A scattered applause followed him on his whole faltering journey, and all too soon Touma found himself next to the magician. Looking back forlornly at his long-lost seat, he noticed Mikoto quaking with barely restrained laughter. He sent a pointedly sour face at the one responsible for him being at the Dianoid in the first place. _W-wait, this whole evening was still my idea, wasn't it..._

"Hello there, young man: tell me, what is your name?" The magician's question was barely heard, so he tapped Touma on a shoulder that turned jerkily in response. As the boy turned he noticed the man pinning a small microphone to his lapel. _Great, now everyone can hear me..._

"M-mm? Oh, sorry, Kamijou, my name is Kamijou Touma." Surprised by the volume of his own voice, he now understood why Amazo was audible from the back rows even when nearly whispering. There must have been hundreds of small speakers hidden throughout the room, since the sound had no perceivable direction. Touma's attention returned to the magician before him, and they stood facing each other with contrasting emotions.

"So, Kamijo-san... Tell me, how familiar are you with..." The Amazing Amazo stepped back and swept his arms out behind him dramatically. "Magic?" Touma sighed and muttered the response that immediately came to mind.

"...All too w- I MEAN NOT WELL, not much at all! Eeeheh..." Rubbing his head, he glanced around sheepishly at the audience who as one seemed to be enjoying his discomfort.

"Is that **so,** is that so..." The magician took to wandering in circles around Touma, as if inspecting him closely. His next words confirmed the boy's suspicions. "I can't say I'm surprised. I don't think I've ever **seen** anyone less magical! Not a **single** thaum![1] This mall's computer really wanted to give me a challenge!" Amazo laughed. The audience chuckled. Touma could only grimace.

"That's sounds about right, really. I'm probably not the best choice for this-" Almost without realizing it the boy began to back-peddle, but he was halted when the magician suddenly leaned forward, gripping both his own and Touma's mic's as he did.

"Relax, my friend. It's just a show; I'll do all the work. Just stand back and be yourself." The private conversation wasn't broadcast, as it seemed the microphones were temporarily muted. The whispered message carried exactly the comforting words the worried boy needed.

"Heh, thanks. All right." _Yes, I can do this. After all, he's a professional. I just have to stand here and be surprised. Easy enough. I do that all the time._ After watching Amazo flick their volumes back on, Touma straightened up with new-found resolve. "Yes! Let's do some magic!" Amazo seemed a little startled by the sudden turn-around, but reacted with aplomb.

"Ah, **that** is spirit we need! Yes, I can supply the magic, if you supply the gumption!" Touma was clutched around the shoulders and led to a large table, covered with a thick velvet tablecloth. On it rested a small container, ornately carved and the size of a shoe box. He picked it up, and tossed it to the boy who caught it warily. "Please, tell me, is there anything unusual about this box." Touma glanced down at his charge quizzically, turning it over a few times before responding.

"Uhm, well... It's lighter than it looks. Maybe plastic? And I think it's hollow."

"Hollow, you say. And is that hollow box empty, do you think?"

"I hear some small things rattling inside a little, but only a little. Don't see how to open it, though."

"I've got some gifts for our lovely audience in there, courtesy of the Dianoid. I'll need your help to open it, so if you'd just rest it back on that table where you found it. That's it, right there: now, hold the sides tightly and press it firmly to the table. Opening it is going to take some work, so hold on tight. Oh, and don't lean over it. Trust me. Now, prepare yourself..." Touma's eyes blinked in confusion as he realized he was being lead around by the nose. He decided to take the magician's advice and arched well back, closing one eye as he braced for a surprise. Though he didn't notice, the box and his face were both highlighted on the same big screen which had selected him to participate.

The table was oriented so that Touma could only see half of the audience, so he also turned his head to scan the crowd. As he did, Amazo took up his position on the other side. From his sleeve, he produced a simple wand and flourished it towards the box. A moment passed before he tapped it once, twice, and then-

An explosion of grey sound caught Touma off guard, though he gamely held onto the box. Whatever it held rushed out at great speed, and the container rattled from the pressure. The audience's pleased surprise and cheering prompted him to look at what gifts the magician had prepared.

"Doves?! Wow, t-that's a lot of birds!" By this point, nearly a hundred birds had escaped from the box and were turning in tight circles over the stage. They were impossibly well-trained, maintaining a strict pattern. "These aren't exactly great gifts, though... Uh, s-sorry, I mean-" Forgetting his voice was being broadcast, Touma backtracked immediately as the last of the birds appeared, but to his surprise Amazo seemed to agree.

"No no, my friend, do not apologize, for you are quite right. Hard to care for and not really in the spirit of the season. Even though they **are** turtle doves."[2] He chuckled aloud, though the boy missed the reference. As the whirlwind of flapping wings continued overhead, the magician began circling the table thoughtfully... "What to do, what to do... AH! I know. Tell me, do you think that some toys would be a better choice? Or perhaps some candy?"

"Uhm... well, either sound like good presents."

"Right. Then I suppose I'll just do both then. Let's transform all these birds, then, and deliver some sweets to our audience." He clutched for a moment his chest, and Touma could see faintly from within his clasped hand a thin glow spread. "There. Much better, don't you agree?"

The first thing Touma noticed was that the sound of wings had stopped, to be replaced immediately by the droning whir of electric motors. Looking up, his eye widened as he realized all the turtledoves had somehow been replaced by small mechanical air planes and helicopters, each carrying a small bag. They began to spread out from the stage and drift into the crowd, flying over head. Cries of amazement turned into cheers of appreciation as each gently parachuted down to all the audience members a loot bag, drifting alone like soldiers storming a battle-front.

"...Whoa... Uh, y-yeah, that's incredible!" _That really is! How'd he do that? He's REALLY good!_ Touma's grin only widened as he watched the ecstatic faces in the seats. Everyone was truly impressed by the trick, but one particular person was more reluctant to admit than the rest.

Stewing in her consternation, Mikoto hardly noticed the package landing on her lap. She reached out with her electromagnetic senses, and definitely felt power running through the automated toys. _So they are real: but those birds were too, I'm sure! There are still FEATHERS floating around! I know the birds were all hidden under the table, but the toys… W-were their mirrors somewhere, hiding the planes before the swap..?. No, they just swapped places at the same time, I was watching! So how..._ As she absentmindedly opened up her present, she saw that it held small candies. She popped one in her mouth and pursed her lips. _I WILL figure out how he's doing it! I can't let that idiot act all superior! He's not even really_ _ **doing**_ _anything up there! Look how smug he looks, smiling at the crowd. Ugh. That grin. I really love that grin. ...HATE! HATE it!_ Having unloaded the last of their cargo, the various flying toys drifted out the doors to the Mall's hallways, where a number of Dianoid security staff began collecting them.

 _Heheh... what a show he's putting on._ Touma truly was grinning, completely forgetting about Mikoto in the crowd. Though he was impressed by the stage magic, it was more the happy faces on the audience that cheered him up. He finally let go off the box and took a step back, looking expectantly at Amazo. In turn, the magician was giving him a wide smile in return.

"Thank you for your assistance, Kamijou Touma. You have been most helpful."

"Heh, my pleasure, really." But before he could return to his seat, he was stopped short.

"Please, I must furnish you with a little something for your help. Now, let's see... it seemed like you liked the idea of candy. Would you like some? I should have a spare of some sort in here...A candy-cane, perhaps?" The magician began ruffling inside of his jacket for something.

"Oh, no really, it's fine... Hmm?" Touma was about to characteristically beg off any reward when the magician produced from nowhere a long striped ribbon.

"Ah, but all I have is this cloth. Oh well, just a moment, and I'll have your reward. Watch." Red and white, the ribbon floated gently in an invisible breeze while Amazo muttered a few words. Hand clutched to his chest he blew roughly onto the ribbon, which suddenly spun about itself. It twirled down and around and inward still in his grip, until it became a thin, tight stick about a foot long. Touma's wonderment only abated when the man gave the tip a poke, causing it to curl up like a shepard's staff.

"OH! That's a candy-cane! But how..." _He must've switched it out with the ribbon! Still, that's really neat. He did it so effortlessly!_ The audience applauded broadly as an unseen camera zoomed in on the display. Sure enough, the video revealed the tell-tale glistening of a plastic wrapper: it certainly seemed real enough to the boy it was held in front of. "Wow! Hey, thanks!" _Man, this would make a great souvenir! Except Index will definitely try to eat it... Maybe I should-_

Touma was unable to complete his thought, for as he reached out in wonderment the fingers of his right hand made contact with the candy. A high pitched sound rang out in the amphitheatre and the candy-cane fell apart and back into fabric.

Though she was distracted attempting to explain that last trick, Mikoto's ear pricked at the familiar sound. _Wait a minute... That's sounded like when he fights! Was that...?_

 _W-what!? Why did Imagine Breaker activate!?_ Staring at his hand dumbly, Touma could only look in mute horror. _I-I can even cancel out_ _ **STAGE**_ _Magic!? What horrible world is this!? Must I ruin everything beautiful and good!?_

For the first time during the performance, the Amazing Amazo looked truly surprised. The ribbon dangled limply in his hand, looking as mundane as a dishrag. "What? But... how?" The audience was confused for a moment, thinking it might be another part of the act. Realizing he had to control the situation, the magician shook his head in comical disbelief. "W-well, I was more right earlier than I thought! You truly are mundane, as anti-magical as one can be! Goodness me, goodness me... Academy City produces such marvels."

"Eheheh... sorry, I-I'll just be going back to my-" _I don't know what happened, but I'm clearly going to ruin his act if I stay here! B-but I have to admit, I didn't think he'd be using esper powers in his show... That's the only expla-_

"NO NO NO. Not so fast, friend Kamijou." A strange light had entered magician's eye as he quickly darted in front of the boy, cutting off his path to freedom. "Please, indulge me. I love a challenge! Just another quick trick."

"U-uh, well, you see..."

"Please, I insist! And the audience does too! Come on, ladies and gentlemen; do you not want to see a contest between magic and science?" He raised his arms up in supplication, and a great number of voices agreed. It seemed many of them merely wanted to get petty revenge on Touma for his "luck" in being chosen, or did not appreciate having the mystique of the show ruined. It dawned on the poster boy for bad luck that things were only going to get worse.

 _What can I even tell this guy?! I don't want to shatter HIS illusions, they make people happy and are harmless! Agh, how could this get worse...?_ While he pointlessly pondered his fate, the magician was already pressing forward.

"Now, for my next trick, I require some special aid. A moment, please." Briskly stepping towards a chest covered in engraved runes, Amazo pried open its lid and pulled forth a small discus of fabric. He placed it on the ground in the centre of the stage and tapped it with his wand. It began unfolding outwards, rising up larger and larger until it rose to match his height. Just as suddenly it began rolling down around and around itself, folding back down and leaving a gap in the centre. It unveiled a short but beautiful young woman, whose long brown hair fell past her shoulders. Her leotard was dazzling, both from the sparkles of light it reflected from the lights above and what it failed to leave to imagination below. It was still PG 13, but there was enough skin revealed on her arms and legs to make Touma glance away with a flush. "My lovely apprentice, Miss Catherine Baker! Please, give her your appreciation!"

 _A female assistant? It got worse. Such misfortune... Now I_ _ **know**_ _something bad is going to happen._ He watched in horror as she approached the magician amidst modest applause from the crowd. She held two large leather writing pads, one in each hand. Each was bordered in smooth black leather, and came with a simple pen tucked into a fitted sleeve on the side. As she elegantly gave one to her partner, he launched into a description of his next act. Touma was unable to appreciate the magician's words, however, as he was distracted by the expression on the face of Miss Baker. _Oh no._

Though she was indeed beautiful, that alone could not chill his blood. Her otherwise charming features were marred by a decidedly wicked stare. It was directed at one Kamijou Touma, who could not miss the naked hostility. Though her lips smiled, half lidded eyes conveyed a cold and cruel appraisal that instantly transported the boy to an imagined battlefield. She was dissecting him and taking aim at the same time, neither action anything he wanted to be involved in. And yet he froze, unable to justify flight from the threat approaching. _Will this ever_ _ **stop**_ _getting worse!?_

From across the room, Misaka Mikoto sputtered in barely concealed rage, facing hot-red. For a minute her obsession with revealing the mystery of the Amazing Amazo's performance was distracted. _God damn it, even here!? Look at how intently she's staring at him! And I can't even DO anything-No, I don't care, I DON'T! G-gah... maybe I can short out the lights... Trip a fire alarm? No, that's irresponsible, people might... Grrr… Just you wait, you damned idiot…_

After endless seconds, Miss Baker reached the boy, and proffered his own notepad with poise that hid her hate. He hesitated, but the increasing awkwardness demanded a response. _A-ah! I know! I'll just grab it with my left hand!_ Forcing a smile, Touma managed to take the pad from her without incident, though it nearly slipped from his fingers when she leaned forward suddenly. Looking him up and down, she seemed satisfied with what she saw, and the tingling down his spine slowly subsided. _Well, that worked for now. Now, what am I even supposed to be doing?_ He finally began to listen to the speech that Amazo was making.

"Now, I am going to ask my friend here to write or draw **whatever** he wants, and you will see how on my own note-pad... My note-pad... W-what?" Amazo's train of thought was derailed first by Imagine Breaker's loud activation, and then by murmuring from the crowd. He turned, and his horror matched Touma's, who no longer held the pen he had retrieved from his pad with his right hand. All that remained was a rapidly expanding cloud of dust settling gently behind Miss Baker, who had already turned away to walk a few feet towards the back of the stage. The boy's eye widened as he realized his mistake. _So the power was in the PEN!? But what am I even destroying!?_ He had limited time to consider however, as his danger sense hit a crescendo when the magician's assistant pivoted to face him again.

If she had been hostile before, it was now replaced by liquid fury. Blinking slowly, Miss Baker closed the distance between them again and pulled out another pen, pointing it directly at the boy with her arm outstretched fully. To Touma, it looked as if she were about to cast some horrible curse using a particularly small magic wand. With genuine resignation and no way to escape he took hold of it, and sure enough his next victim shattered into oblivion. She flinched slightly, but her gaze never wavered. If anything, it tightened in focus, boring into Touma's skull to unearth his secrets. Miss Baker began to reach for what he assumed and prayed was yet another pen and not a weapon when Amazo dashed forward to catch her arm.

"No, no, do not trouble yourself, Miss Baker. It seems I underestimated his mundanity's stubbornness!" He gently pressed his notepad back into her hands, placating her without a soothing touch. "This was but a simple trick, a test of sorts. I will have to resort to more powerful conjurations now! Our audience is in for a rare treat!"

As he sauntered away to prepare his next attempt, Miss Baker coolly retrieved Touma's notebook. He was so shaken it fell from his hands, and they both reached down to catch it at the same time. If Touma hadn't been so afraid of her, he might have bumped into her and sent them both tumbling down into some awkward pose, but as he began to react her eyes caught his and pinned him still. Neither moved further as the book clattered to the floor. Miss Baker then smoothly picked up the pad, not breaking her gaze until she turned to put both pads and the remaining pen away. Exhaling in relief, Touma once again realized he was missing Amazo's spiel. When he glanced over at the magician, a new colour of terror washed over him. _I-is he going to use **that** on ME!?_

Amazo wielded a long, vicious scimitar, whose polished edge gleamed with weighty implications. The magician had just sliced in two the box which had held the birds from before. He continued to cut, as if dicing vegetables, until the box resembled only a pile of tinder. "As you can see this is a real blade, though far sharper than most. It is in fact so sharp, that it can cut more than just matter. Yes, it can even cut away the psychic and spiritual connections between things, without harming the object at all! Please, watch as I demonstrate its peculiar properties. Miss Baker? If you would." His assistant had returned from storing the earlier equipment and extended her left arm, facing the audience. Touma sighed in relief, eager to be forgotten for a moment, but he understood the implications of Amazo's act a second too late to react.

"No, WAIT- …Huh?" Though he was too late to stop the swing of the blade, it made no wound where it passed through Miss Baker's bare upper arm. In fact, she didn't move an inch, and neither did what should have been her severed limb. The audience was mildly impressed, patiently waiting to see what developed further, but their interest turned again to shock when the arm slowly began to drift away.

It remained floating at the same height, but was a foot from Miss Baker. There was no blood, no bones or gore: merely a gently swirling purple pool where the two parts of her body should have joined. The arm eventually reached Amazo's side, where he gave it a brisk shake, much to the amusement of the crowd. "If you think **that** is impressive, then my dear audience, know that this sword grants me even more power! Watch as I can multiple my helping hands…" Releasing her disembodied grip, the magician took up his blade once again and gently stabbed it into her flesh. The audience oohed as the arm suddenly duplicated itself, another popping into existence with a small rush of air at its side. At once there were two, then four, and rapidly too many to count; phantom limbs drifting about Amazo as if he were some Indian deity. "Now, watch closely, for each one of these limbs is under my complete control!" Each arm began to move on its own volition, scooting away through the auditorium to perform. One pair began juggling daggers and bowling pins, another alone snapped its fingers to reveal roses, with yet more performing their own simple tricks of illusion and deception.

 _No, these aren't esper powers._ Mikoto finally assured herself of that fact as she studied a nearby arm playing rock-paper-scissors with a child in the crowd. _No one in the audience looks like they're part of the act, and there are just too many different effects happening at once to hide every different ability user anyway. Though some parts of the tricks use electrical means, there's always an element of something different. A different power… Different… rules…? Wait..._

 _Oh no._ Touma came to the same conclusion, nearly a hundred feet away. _He's a_ _ **real**_ _magician!? Then… why is he here!? On a stage!? And called AMAZO!? This makes no sense!_ Rocked by the last possible conclusion, Touma could only gape as Amazo continued his act.

"Yes, this blade is one of my strongest magical tools. Let us see how it fairs against Kamijou Touma's stubbornness, hmm?" An edge of competitiveness entered the Magician's tone, and the boy rapidly began planning an escape route.

"I'm not **trying** to do this, it's just…Uhm, well you see…" _There is no good way to explain this… Heck,_ _ **I**_ _barely know what is going on! If he is a magician, then I've got figure out why he's here!_ His backwards retreat was halted by a warm, unyielding wall. Glancing back, he saw dozens of arms interlocked in a living barrier. The feeling was surprisingly gross, and so Touma tried to avoid making more contact than he could. Yet as he tried to move away, many hands latched hold of his clothing, tugging him forwards towards Amazo. Not one grip was painful, but all together they were inescapable. Relentless guidance inevitably brought him back to the magician, who was even now pandering to the crowd.

"Please, ladies and gentleman, give my two assistants a **hand**! Ahaha-HAH!" While the clapping continued amidst a shocking low number of groans at the pun, Touma came to stop and was released from his captor.

Holding Imagine Breaker close to his body, he had avoided brushing any of the floating arms for fear of the horrible scene that might follow. _I don't want her to lose her arm! Or any number of them!_ He soon realized that such a consequence might be unavoidable, for Amazo stepped forth, brandishing the blade with bravado.

"Do not fear, Kamijou Touma! You have seen its power; it will not harm you! Now watch, and be amazed!" Touma held out both arms to wards off the implied attack, but only succeeded in providing a target.

 _Yeah, unless it stays a blade_ _AFTER the magic is broken! I don't want to explain THIS to the hospital clerks!_ "Hey, wait, I have to tell you-!" It was too late, for the sword was already swinging down, directly towards his left arm. Though he had time to duck away, Touma knew that it would only delay the problem. _I tried to warn you! Guess I've got break it!_ "Sorry about this!" Instead of letting the blade slice through his left arm with unpredictable effects, he reached up to bat it away with his right. Instead of looking surprised, Amazo's features hardened and he continued the swing.

Imagine Breaker rang out, and the metal blade disappeared into splinters and smoke, leaving only the handle in one piece. As if they had clashed in a duel and suddenly disengaged their weapons, both the boy and magician leapt back and steadied themselves. The many hands that had floated about the room disappeared at once, and Touma was relieved to see that Miss Baker seemed intact, though no less terrifying. Touma unclenched the fist he hadn't noticed he had been making, while Amazo casually tossed aside his now-useless weapon. Sensing a chance, the boy made a whispered entreaty. "Listen, your magic isn't going to w-!" He pressed both hands to his mouth as he remembered he was still wired. The crowd laughed at his expense, while his worried expression was transfixed on the monitor overhead. Despite this gaff, the magician only smiled the wider, though Touma could sense anew the steel in his voice.

"You are truly a formidable opponent, Kamijou Touma! I think it will take my strongest magic to generate a true Christmas spirit here!" By this point, most of the crowd suspected Touma was secretly affiliated with the magician, and were enjoying the implied competition between Science and Magic while taking bets on the outcome. A certain railgun however had realized just how literal that battle might become.

 _I-I knew it! There's no other explanation! That **has** to be magic, just like in Hawaii and Tokyo! But… they don't seem to be acting like enemies… What do I do? I can't justify starting a fight here, no one would believe me… But I can't just leave him there! Ugh, magic is such a pain in the-! _ A sudden hand on her wrist nearly shocked Mikoto into returning the favour. After recoiling, she realized it was only a kindly looking woman next to her. With a gentle but teasing smile the older lady leaned over thoughtfully, patting her wrist again.

"There there, dear. It's all right. I know it's worrisome to see a sword swung at your boyfriend, but you know he'll be fine. It's just a show."

"Oh, u-u-uh, tha-thank y- HE'S NOT MY B-B-B… We're NOT dating! NO, stop laughing-" The rush of conflicting emotions nearly overloaded Mikoto, and the minute she spent trying to calm down and explain herself distracted her from the stage.

"Look, I've got to expl-" This time Touma cupped a hand over the microphone to silence his broadcast, but Miss Baker's cool hand stilled his lips anyway. Even though his face flushed immediately with blood, her next words drained it all away.

"Continue the act, or there will be consequences."

 _WHAT!? Was that a threat!? Wha-what are these people even up to!?_ Even though he already greatly feared the assistant, this was something unexpected. Up so close, he noticed her eyes for the first time. Hard as diamonds and a pale blue, they held the promise of an iron will. Touma's mind raced to react, but he realized he was essentially trapped into playing a role. _At least until I figure out what is going on here! I have to call Tsuchimikado. This part of any problem is his business, not mine! Still, Amazo doesn't seem that bad... I guess I need to find out more before I punch anything else..._ Without waiting for confirmation, Miss Baker took the boy's left hand, leading him towards the back of the stage. Amazo was meanwhile busy engaging his crowd once again.

"I must admit, I had hoped to leave this for a finale, but I think it will be fitting send off to our good friend Kamijou Touma! We will see once and for all whether we can not coax a little magic out of him!" While Amazo carried on, Touma was lead to sit on an ominous looking black dais mounted by similar chair, both dwarfed by the gargantuan Christmas tree directly behind it. The entire area was surrounded by presents of different shapes, sizes and colours, but a small path remained clear in the centre. It was here Touma journeyed, in tow of Miss Baker, and to the top of the podium where he was placed. Easily 6 feet off the ground, he was seated unceremoniously, looking down on the assistant. Her hard expression for once betrayed satisfaction as she pressed a button on the chair's side.

Hidden restraints sprung up from the chair, binding his arms, legs, and even across his chest. "WHOA! HEY! STOP-GAH!" _T-this isn't magic! I can hear motors! I-I'm in serious trouble now!_

"Kamijou Touma! Are you able to move? Or are you stuck?" Amazo had turned from the crowd and yelled up lightly towards the unfortunate boy, all while sauntering closer. Ludicrously, the magician winked, and Touma realized he was still obligated to play along.

"Ah-hah-haha…. Y-eah, I'm stuck. Stuck good! Eheheh!" He wriggled his limbs in a sincere attempt to break free, unaware of the close up available on the monitor.

"Good! So you are ready for your final role this evening!"

"I-I am? I guess!?" _Wait, did he say "final"!? Does that mean…!_

"Excellent! Now, I need silence to prepare! Patience, please, ladies and gentlemen." Amazo flipped the switch on his microphone off as he closed the last few feet towards the boy, making some dramatic gestures. Bright light tinted in reds and green spilled from his hands and sparkles played around the chair and dais, but while he worked the magician fixed Touma with a cool smile that only sparked new unease. "Your microphone is off as well, boy. I think it's time you explained yourself, hmm?"

"Oh, thank goodness! We can sort th-" The hushed words tumbling out of his mouth went unheeded in the face of an immediate question.

"For whom do you work?"

".-is out! Look, this is all a big coinici… W-what?" Halted mid-stream, Touma started blankly.

"To which group do you belong? You are clearly a potent, if otherwise inept, magician. Why did you choose this method to disrupt our plans? For that matter, why even try? We don't plan to hurt anyone, and we're not bothering any church I can think of doing this show. Do you have some grudge? Did you think I would not be able to react?" The swirling lights began to increase in speed, but Touma was only half aware of their presence.

"W-hat? Grudge!? ENEMIES!? No, no, listen-"

"You were right, Master. It's in his right hand, whatever he's doing." Miss Baker had sidled up to her partner, joining in the gestures and generating a chill power of her own. The vortex of Christmas colours expanded, spinning over the many presents scattered around the dais. While they worked, Amazo nodded.

"Easy enough to avoid. Time for our trump card." Touma realized his chance was slipping away, so he tried again to explain.

"I work for NO one! I'm still in high school, I swear! I just wanted to enjoy the show and a nice evening with a friend!"

"So how then did you know about us? And why don't you seem surprised about magic? In short, why are **you** here **now** , **hmm?** " His punctuated words coincided with small explosions of motion, and the presents on the stage began to spin up into the air, following the currents provided. Touma watched in horror as events rapidly accelerated, and finally decided to explain fully before some catastrophe erupted.

"….Listen. I've encountered other magicians before, but I'm not your enemy! My right hand has a power; it can negate any supernatural abilities. Espers, Magic, even God's blessings! I don't know what magic you're using, but it won't work on it! My hand even negates good luck, which is why-"

"Which is why you are here, on stage, right now, hmm?" Touma nodded glumly as his words were finally being heard. Incredibly, Amazo seemed to be considering them deeply, all while still weaving his spell. "Really. Well... That is truly, incredibly unlucky. For both of us."

"You're telling me." A moment of silence passed as the presents twirling about began to unwrap themselves. "WAIT, YOU BELIEV-"

"QUIET. Yes, I believe you."

"But Ter-" Miss Baker impassioned protest was short lived, cut off by a sudden gesture from her mentor.

"It is all right, my dear. Those are not the eyes of a deceiver. We will send him below: give word to our associates to assist him. **Assist** , mind you. He is not a threat." He turned back to Touma, as the boxes that had been previously wrapped faded into dust and the wrapping papers and ribbons spun alone. "Just play along. This will not hurt you. Trust me. I just need you off stage. You are completely ruining the magic I am trying to generate. Just you being here disrupts it."

'I'm fine with that! Really!" Touma's enthusiastic nodding nearly caused him to be struck by a piece of passing ribbon. _Whoa! That was close- Wait, what is even going to happen? "_ Wait, what are you-"

"Thank you for your time, Kamijou Touma! It was truly a pleasure!" Ignoring boy's concerns, Amazo at last turned away from his work, flicking on his own microphone and stepping down from the dais. Back down on the floor, he gestured to the audience, who were enthralled with the light show before them. "Ladies and gentlemen… It's time for a Christmas miracle! Let's **wrap** up our time with Kamijou Touma!" With a sudden clap, Touma's world collapsed into darkness.

"…a-am I alive? Hello? HELLO!?" There was no response, and Touma could hear nothing from outside. Even the booming sound of his own voice through the amphitheatre speakers was inaudible. "Wait, did he not turn MY microphone back on!?" It took several seconds for the unfortunate boy to realize the truth. The paper that had been but moments before spinning around him had suddenly collapsed into a perfect cube, with Touma in the middle. Not one part of it touched him, and try as he might he could not wriggle his hand into a better position.

Meanwhile, the sudden absence of the spinning lights on stage finally jarred Mikoto out of her distraction. "Hold on! Where did that idiot even go!? I only see… A present?" Meticulously wrapped and several layers think, an elaborate red bow topped the whole affair. Mikoto starred in fascination before her mental gears kicked back into action.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, I am staking it all on this next bit of magic!"

… _Staking it all? W-what does that mean!?_ Her thoughts couldn't keep up, but she began to feel a sinking dread in her stomach.

"It's time to wrap things up with our good friend, is it not? Now, this last trick will safely whisk him away from this, provided of course the magic works."

 _W-wha… Wait, that idiot's inside of that thing!? If this is real magic, then I can't trust this magician guy! I've got to-_

"If not, well… These flamethrowers courtesy of the Dianoid will heat things up a little!"

 _…._ _ **FLAME**_ _THROWERS!? WHAAAA-_ _That's **INSANE**! HOW-WHAT-WHY-_

"Now then, Miss Baker, are you ready?"

"Completely."

"Well then, on three! One-"-

 _A-a-ah! NO! MOVE! MOVE, LADY!_

"Two…"

 _OUTTA MY WAY! I've got to-_

" **THREE!"**

"T-TOUMA!"

!~~~~~~~~~!

[1] A unit of magic, lifted straight from the works of one of the greats. In this context, pure malarkey that has no bearing on anything important. It's just a fun word.

[2] ...and a partridge in a pear tree... Look, Amazo thought it was clever.

[3] This a secret note for those who are close readers. Any body catching onto how his Magic works? It will be explained, and it does fit within the universe with only very minor stretching. See you Friday!


	10. Part 1: Interlude 2

**People good at noticing patterns probably could tell that last bit would be a cliffhanger, since this next upload might be Interlude 2. Those not good at patterns are hopefully very slightly vexed, because that would mean the plot is drawing your attention. Either way, enjoy more of the antics of two dysfunctional clones! Stayed scheduled for our next (Sunday? Maybe sooner) update.**

 **Big thanks to Ren for reminding me of what Worst calls Accelerator: I made a few edits to reflect that to the previous interlude and this. These bits are fun to write, but their verbal ticks are pretty odd to work around. I guess that's why this makes good practice! In related news, the "Misaka" word count for this bit is through the roof. I didn't count, but I imagine it's crazy.**

 **Another, less specific, but equally big, thanks for the words of encouragement I've gotten so far for the story (only** **TWO people complained about Mikoto being in it so far, which I think it pretty reasonable)**. **I've read everything and it all means a great deal to me; I've been blown away by the positive responses. Just so people know, I've actually written already up to Chapter 13, and have planned out the rest to varying degrees: this isn't going to die unless I do! I like to edit at least each bit 4 times on different days before I post something though, which is why the delay is there. I fear my own inadequacy and I want to have a good backlog so I can keep a schedule. That said...**

 **NT 13, man. Wow. At least now my question about Touma's luck has been more or less answered... And those feats by Mikoto in chapter 2, holy moly! I no longer feel bad about what I planned her to be able to do. I am however terribly annoyed that a little twist that I had planned for a while later on is going to seem like I adapted it from this book, but such is the life of fan fiction writer I suppose. (I really did have it planned out weeks earlier! Mumble grumble.) But truly, that last twist from Kamachi vindicates my story, even if only a little: I could even retcon a bit and include some stuff from NT 13 because from what I can tell, mine still takes place later. So yay! I won't though, because I don't think it matters too much to do so. Plus, I don't want to have to write in the influence of the final reveal, because I just know it's going to be important real god damn fast in NT 14. Still, I ramble. Onto the important things.**

 **!~~~~~~~~!**

 **Reviewing or not and view counts aside, and whether new books make this story impossible or ridiculous, I hope you can continue to enjoy my little romp in a certain interesting world. Thanks for tagging along!**

 **Interlude 2:**

7:14 P.M., December 23rd: Seventh Mist Shopping Centre, Academy City,

The bright lights and warmth of the Seventh Mist Shopping Centre was a beacon of festivity, drawing in those students who weren't quite extravagant enough for truly upscale stores. Those various shops not selling special merchandise for the season were at least hosting festive sales, or putting up token decorations. The western style of Christmas had permeated quite far in Academy City, but local flavours still abounded: next to Santa's and snowmen were hanging lanterns and stalls selling traditional Japanese Christmas cake.[1] Jaunty holiday tunes played over loudspeakers, drowning out most of the idle chatter that would otherwise annoy a certain level 5 who limped through the main concourse for the third time. Cane clacking against linoleum tiles, his head idly tossed back and forth as he took in the stores around him. A sudden motion in a nearby coat rack shook violently, catching his eye. Looking at it for a moment, he shrugged as indifference took over before continuing on.

Within the folds of many jackets, Worst exhaled in relief, hand clasped firmly over Last Order's mouth. Though the slimy tongue on her palm had momentarily shaken her, it would take more than that to make the clone lose her cool. It helped that she was able to violently noogie the little girl squirming futilely in her grasp. Eventually their target had moved on far enough that she felt safe leaving her cover. She shuffled out, pushing the smaller clone ahead of her. Though a store employee nearby tried to voice his displeasure, he was fighting a pointless battle.

"PHEH, spits Misaka Misaka, as Misaka makes her displeasure about being muzzled known!"

"Maybe if you wouldn't narrate your actions so loudly, Misaka wouldn't have to clamp your gob shut! Stupid, his ears still work fine!"

"M'LEM, pout-th Mithaka while Mithaka th-tickth her tongue out pointedly, making it thurprisingly hard to thpeak..." As Last Order reeled in her wayward appendage, Worst shaded her eyes from the harsh glare of the neon lighting. Finally she caught sight of her target.

"Tou-san went off that way, so come on. We need to keep an eye on him. Misaka'll leave you behind, brat, so keep up." Though the young man's finger was judgmentally wagging with increasing speed, the two ignored him and he was left chastising empty air. Worst powered ahead down the hall after Accelerator, struggling to peer over the heads of the crowd for his distinctively white top.

"Misaka Misaka is coming! Agrees Misaka, since Misaka realizes we still have to discuss gift ideas!" Last Order skipped along merrily behind her taller clone, their earlier spat forgotten. For once, Worst appeared to be considering the energetic girl's point.

"Yes... Misaka does agree it is prudent to plan, just in case options are needed. Though Misaka still doubts he is actually here for that, as he hasn't entered a single store... Very well, what ideas does-"

"HAIR DYE! Misaka shouts Misaka's first idea out boldly!" Worst paused from scanning for Accelerator to stare blankly at her companion.

"...Misaka can't help but wonder what you are thinking."

"It is simply that Accelerator's hair is so blank a canvass, Misaka Misaka just wants to see it colourful and pretty and happy! Misaka gleefully describes Misaka's fantasy, whilst imagining being allowed to make fun combinations and stripes!" Last Order's eyes closed she smiled, and the dreamy expression drove Worst to frustration.

"Don't be daft! Misaka doesn't think that's something the old fart would care about! That would just make **you** happy! And he'd just be pissed!"

"Oh. Misaka realizes while Misaka falls back on her back-up ideas-" This girl's pondering was ignored by her taller companion, who carried on imperiously.

"All Worst thinks that evil bastard cares about is fighting, sleeping, and wasting time! Therefore, the perfect gift is..." Worst's eye cast before finally noticing the store she was looking for, before darting in to rip something from a shelf. When she returned, Last Order had finished and was preparing to listen intently. "...Aha! HERE! This is the pinnacle of gifts to make sure Misaka isn't punished for not reciprocating! J-just in case, Misaka qualifies."

"...Misaka Misaka wonders what a Snuggie would do to help our target defend himself. Misaka mutters to herself in consternation and doubt, even though Misaka thinks that it does look soft and fluffy."

"G-guh... It's not like any gift can do everything, Misaka states defensively!" Arms crossed, she tossed the offending article back onto it's shelf, where it tilted lazily onto the floor. They marched away again, still trying to follow Accelerator, but their attention was already wavering. "Anyway, what are **your** other ideas!? Misaka bets they are as dumb as your first one."

"Not so, a nice new Christmas sweater is Misaka Misaka's crowning contribution to this debate! Misaka's great idea being the pride of Misaka's last minute thoughts!"

"You just thought of that because there's one right here! And besides, Misaka has never seen him wear anything other than the same damn clothes, and he definitely wouldn't wear it when it's not Christmas!"

"...But it's so festive and fun that Misaka Misaka can't help but want to see him wear it. Says Misaka, as she sadly realizes it not Misaka's best idea."

"All right, all right..." Face-palming vigorously, Worst began to stomp her foot with impatience. "This isn't working, and Misaka thinks we need to focus here."

"Right! Misaka Misaka agrees, nodding as Misaka understands neither of us have a good idea!"

"Okay. So, shut up and let Misaka think..."

For the next fifteen minutes, they tossed back and forth ideas with increasing desperation. Camped out on a nearby bench, Worst was sprawled out in an undignified manner on one end while Last Order lay under the the other half, kicking its bottom in agitation.

"Uhm... Misaka Misaka suggests perhaps a nice cake? Misaka suggests truly half-heartedly?"

"Cake? No. Misaka thinks he'd want it to last longer than you eating it. Hmm... Perhaps a new gun is-"

"Misaka Misaka already **told** you, Misaka won't let you get him a weapon! Misaka sighs, as Misaka hopes her annoyance with her companion's fixation on suffering is clear. Instead, Misaka Misaka prompts reopening the debate on hair dye-"

"No! ...Ahah! Alcohol! **That** always makes Misaka happy!"

"Misaka Misaka notes he is too young to drink! Misaka points out in exasperation, while Misaka with exhaustion presents for appraisal that staff with a _spooky_ skull on top!" The little girl pointed out from under the bench towards a nearby sign, showing the described item on steep discount at a novelty shop. Apparently a hold-over from Halloween, it clashed terrifically with the reindeer plushies all around it. Worst's lazy gaze fell on it, and she straightened a little to peer more closely.

"Hmm. Misaka thinks that might actually work..."

"R-really!? Misaka Misaka is incredibly surprised, but Misaka considers that he **does** use a cane very often..."

"AH! No, the geezer has a custom cane! He'd never use this one. DAMN IT! Misaka reaffirms that Christmas is terrible... And anyway... WAIT. WHERE DID HE GO!?"

"Misaka Misaka thinks we lost him a while ago. Misaka bluntly observes."

!~~~~~~~~!

7:53 P.M., December 23rd: Seventh Mist Shopping Centre, Academy City,

"Misaka hates to admit, but you were right. Misaka can't find any trace of him now... if only you didn't waste our time trying to convince that stupid vendor to give you an ice-cream cone while I searched."

"It was not stupid, argues Misaka Misaka, especially since the ice-cream was given! Says Misaka Misaka as she licks the drips along the side to avoid wasting any deliciousness! Besides, Misaka Misaka was hungry, and you were too busy flirting with the vendor man to follow anyone anyway! Misaka pouts at the chastisement, even though Misaka is secretly pleased with the success of our unintended teamwork."

"But it's winter! Misaka points out that ice-cream will just make you cold: I don't want you complaining all the way back to the apartment later! Ice-cream isn't even traditional Christmas food…"

"Misaka Misaka is in a warm mall anyway and doesn't see the point worrying about that! Argues Misaka, even as Misaka tries to remember what traditional Christmas food would be..."

The two clones paused their bickering to consider the problem, but in the absence of any ideas immediately regressed to their original problem. Worst raised her hands to cradle her head, a migraine already brewing from the hours she had spent with Last Order.

"Agh! This isn't the point; Misaka is trying to get us back on track! Our mission is to figure out what the Hell White-hair's doing here and then to prepare accordingly!"

"But Misaka Misaka already explained to the mean one, he's getting us presents for Christmas! Misaka explains, even as Worst tries to cut Misaka off again-"

"Yeah yeah, you say that, but Misaka is still convinced that the old fart is just trying to cool down from before. Maybe he evens know we're following him, and is just trying to make us suffer thinking of pointless ideas."

"Misaka Misaka then wonders why you are even here, if you are so certain? Misaka queries, even as Misaka hints less than subtly that the mean one has ulterior-"

"Shut it, pint-sized! Misaka **already** explained! On the off-chance Tou-san **is** getting us presents, and I don't get him something as well…" Worst shuddered in horror. "Let's just say Misaka would not want to be there on Christmas morning."

"Ah, Misaka Misaka understands. Misaka says knowingly, as Misaka prepares to ferociously tease the mean one. Misaka Misaka acknowledges she would also feel guilty about not returning the kindness. States Misaka, as Misaka reveals her own similar reasons for coming!" Last Order prepared to take a big bite out of her ice-cream, only to be knocked off target when Worst tugged her held hand sharply.

"Misaka thought she told you to shut it! Now come on, we have to find that geezer!" Worst's increasing pace pulled the smaller girl along, who was desperately trying to save her cold treat. After numerous close calls of it dropping completely, Last Order finally came to a suitable solution. With one humongous chomp and a satisfied smile, the rest of the ice-cream disappeared. Worst finally came to a stop in the Mall's crowded atrium, but Accelerator was nowhere to be seen. "Misaka is afraid we truly lost him. Now we **have** to buy him gifts just in case, and then check later under the tree to see if we need to wrap them or if they can be returned. Christmas is such a pain-eh?"

Her complaints were cut short by the sounds of increasing distress coming from her shorter companion. Bending down, she curiously peered at Last Order's bright red face, with eyes scrunched tight and hands over her shaking lips.

"Huh? What the Hell happened to you, Misaka wonders as-" Without warning Last Order's mouth opened wide, and a giant wad of molten ice-cream and soggy waffle cone landed on Worst's shoes. "…AH!? WHAT!? You little ~~~~! [2] All over Misaka's feet!? **Why**!?"

"Misaka Misaka's mouth was cold, and it's your fault anyway for running so fast! Shouts Misaka as Misaka tries to hide both her embarrassment and sadness about her lost treat!" The little clone's initial distress had evaporated, leaving only her usual annoyance at Worst's demeanour.

"God damn it, now Misaka needs to buy new shoes AND presents! Gah, I **hate** ~~~~ing Christmas already, and my first one hasn't even happened yet!" Ignoring the increasing dampness of her footwear, Worst dragged along her charge at a slightly reduced speed. In her haste, she failed to notice the little girl's murmuring.

"Ah, Misaka Misaka is truly happy that Worst said "gifts", and not "gift"! Misaka mutters privately, thinking about the purchasing of her own gifts… purchasing…!" Last Order planted her feet on the ground firmly enough to bring Worst to a halt.

"GAH! What now, brat? Got any more festive surprises for me!?"

"…Misaka Misaka doesn't have any money. Misaka reveals with sadness, as Misaka realizes that materialism might matter more to Christmas that she wanted to believe."

They shared a moment of silence, though Worst couldn't meet the teary stare that Last Order was giving her. Even though she turned away, the taller girl couldn't repress a sigh.

"…Come on. Misaka is going to teach you how to get gifts WITHOUT money. I'm not spending more after I replace these shoes..."

"Ah! Thank you, shouts Misaka, as Misaka does a happy Christmas dance of joy!"

The two began to make their way to the mall's next floor, but as they ascended the stairs…

"But Misaka Misaka doesn't want to be a criminal, so you will have to do the stealing. Misaka organizes, implying-"

"NOT THAT WAY, DUMB-ASS!"

"MISAKA MISAKA IS SORRY FOR HER IMPLICATIONS AS SHE IS NOOGIED VICIOUSLY! OW-OW-OW…"

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] Did you know that there is apparently a Japanese cake thing traditionally made for Christmas? Neither did I, but google led me to some page that did!

[2] I guess I lied about the swearing. At the time I didn't know Worst and Accelerator would have such large cameos, so… expect a few bleeps here and there! At least these ones are firmly in character. An OC will be revealed to be a potty mouth later as well, but I mean, what can you do? Some people swear.

[3] These probably aren't really that secret, are they? Anyway, minor note: I actually redid this chapter at the last minute, taking half out and moving it to Interlude 3 while adding in an earlier bit. If it seems a little disjointed, that's why, but I figure LO and Worst are a little disjointed so it fits them anyway. I'm not lazy, don't you think that.


	11. Part 1: Chapter 9

**SECRET SATURDAY UPDATE! The interludes are always going to be short, but so was this chapter. Hence the bonus. Don't expect this to happen too often: I've been busy lately, so writing is slowing.**

 **So... What happened to our heroes? It's time for the thrilling conclus... Uhm... Mid point of this story! Well, not quite. This whole story will be 20 chapters, not including interludes. Still plenty of time for action, which is coming. While this chapter is very Touma-centric, the next shifts back to Mikoto for a bit. It's an interesting challenge, balancing two main protagonists equally, especially when they are apart and you want to fill in extra details.**

 **There are reasons for (most) of the strange things you might have been picking up on (or not): in the fullness of time, they should make more sense (I pray). But for now, the mystery deepens.**

 **Chapter 9:**

7:53 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, 1st floor, Main Amphitheatre

The roar of flames consumed the present instantly. The paper was blown apart more than burned, but even so singed scraps were blasted to the ceiling in a whirling halo. The crowd flinched back as one from the sudden wall of heat and light. Yet as suddenly as they arose began, the fires diminished. And when the smoke cleared...

"O-o-oh..." Mikoto's clenched hand calmed her beating heart. Up on stage, the smoking seat was smoking was entirely empty. The flamethrowers may have been hot, but they wouldn't have been able to completely obliterate Touma in that short time: he was safe, somewhere. It was only then she realized where **she** was.

All members of the audience not fixated on the stage or applauding at the outcome were instead staring at the young girl, who had jumped into the hall's main aisle over the heads of more than a few guests. Stunned, Mikoto looked around blearily before realizing what she had done. "E-eh? EH!?" _IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT! NOW WHAT DO I DO?!_

On stage the magician gave an awkward cough, managing to claw his way back to the centre of attention. "HMMPH. Ah, yes! And just like that, the boy has vanished! He was certainly stubborn, though: I had to use more power than I expected. But in the end, the Magic of Christmas triumphs! I sent him to some of my associates, who I'm sure will lead him back to his seat soon. Now, ladies and gentlemen: shall we pick a new, perhaps more magically attuned assistant?"

Even if the show must go on, for Mikoto it was certainly over. Instead of sitting back down, in a perfect storm of embarrassment she dashed from the main halls. _I'm going to find that damned Idiot and wring his stupid idiot neck for ever suggesting we see this idiotic magic show! AGGH!_ _WHERE THE HELL DID HE_ _ **GO**_ _!?_

!~~~~~~~~!

7:53 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, Sublevel 4

"A-agh… Such misfortune…"

A very sore boy sat up shakily from the cold carbon floor. Cradling his head for the second time that day, Touma glanced around him. Gone were the rows of seats filled with people, the flashing lights and gaudy displays of the magic show. Even the chair he had been strapped to was missing. Instead there was only a long straight corridor, featureless save for intermittent ceiling lights and the occasional door. Where he sat it widened up considerably, but all that shared the larger space were some assorted boxes and a few tools. Try as he might, nothing added up to explain how he arrived here, so Touma quickly replayed his last memories.

He remembered his panic that had risen alongside the smell of gasoline permeating his paper prison, then a sudden explosion of heat and perhaps someone calling his name… Everything else disappeared in a rush of movement, which the boy finally realized meant only one thing. He looked up and saw a vertical shoot about 2 feet wide set into the roof above, disappearing into darkness. When his thoughts fully cleared, it became apparent what had happened.

"…A trap door?" _That's not really magic. Still, if it was I'd be roasted right now, so I can't complain…_ Finally rising to his feet, he realized that he wasn't standing directly on the floor. It appeared as if a small square, nearly the size of the hole above, had been cut away from the ground and left there. Around the edges were yellow and black hazard lines, painted on both sides. He poked the division a few times, before a voice from down the hall startled him away.

"That's a lift you're sitting on." A fair-skinned woman was marching towards him, and though she was still a fair distance away her confident voice carried in the silence. She was wearing a Dianoid mall security outfit, speaking Japanese clearly but with the clipped edge of a foreigner. She came to stop just inside the hallway before it widened into Touma's space. "I'd get off it if I were you. Unless you want to go back up there."

"NO, no, I'm good! T-thank you, ma'am." Scrambling towards her, he left the danger zone and jogged up to meet the woman. She gave him an appraising eyebrow before shrugging a minimalist shrug.

"I'm here to escort you back to your seat. Follow me." Stiffly pivoting, she marched back off at the same brisk, long-legged pace.

"U-uh, okay, I'm coming!" As Touma struggled to keep up to the guard without jogging, he realized he was still fairly confused about what happened. 'So… uhm… you're helping out the magicians? Can you tell me what exactly happened, back there? Where am I?"

"You took the same lift back down that they took up." His blank expression told her that this was not enough explanation. She frowned before continuing. "It was waiting below the chair, which flipped you down below before anything could happen. You didn't fall this whole way down; barely a floor really to where the lift was. Would have broken something if you had." This time Touma's obvious confusion prompted a muted sigh. "Wasn't part of the plan, having you down here, but they said something happened. Seems you still got a little dazed though, and didn't wake up until the thing had descended to sub-level 4. Probably for the best: that tunnel's as dark as the Devil's… Uhm…" She glanced at the boy, as if noticing for the first time that he was in fact a student. "…dresser." She finished lamely, though Touma hardly noticed. "Anyway, it would have been bad to wake up suddenly in that."

"Ah… Well, I've had my share of scares today. Still, thank you again, ma'am."

"Just doing my job. And call me Sergeant. My mother's "ma'am", not me." Somehow the guard's pace accelerated without her breaking stride, and Touma was rapidly being left behind. Noticing, she turned her head slightly back to look at her charge before slowly slightly. "Now, come on. It's a fair walk back up."

"Right, okay." At their speed the hallway soon ended, leading to a door hiding a small flight of stairs. Taking two at a time, Sergeant waited impatiently at the top of the first set, while the still dizzy Touma pulled his way up with the railing. "Sorry, sorry…"

"Got a head wound? Aggravated a previous injury?" She seemed only slightly concerned for his well-being, instead talking as if she were filling out a medical report.

"Something like that, yeah. Nothing serious, tho-"

"We'll take a pit stop at our first aid. Come on." Instead of continuing up to ground level, the guard left the stairwell, once again abandoning Touma who had only just cleared the last steps. Racing after her, they entered another short, featureless hallway of carbon, but this one quickly opened up into a much larger space than the lift area.

Though only a single floor high, the lower three feet from wall to wall was filled with crates and tarp-covered objects of various dimensions. Small pathways wound through it, occupied mostly by a number of men and women in security uniforms. Many were bustling about, or peering over boxes of supplies, while a few glanced at the newcomers. Seeing Sergeant, most saluted, while a few nodded respectfully. _I guess she's pretty important here. Maybe I can figure out what exactly is going on. Hmm…_ Touma considered the problems before him. He needed to find out what the magicians were doing in Academy City, especially having been invited in to perform. Something seemed odd, including the fact that there were some many guards down here and not ordinary storage workers. Clearing his throat, the boy tried to make some casual-sounding conversation.

"I had no idea there was so much space down here."

"Big buildings have big basements. Lots of storage."

"O-oh. Yeah, I guess…" _Damn._ _She likes to get to the point, doesn't she?_ _I need another idea…_ While he pondered, an alternative arose for him in the form of a muffled voice rapidly approaching. It called out through a half-shut door alongside the path his guide was leading Touma along, just to the boy's right.

"…geant! Sergeant! Sorry, just a minute!" A broad-shoulder guard burst through the doorway, barrelling into Touma who narrowly remained on his feet. Exasperation visible, Sergeant turned and raised a restraining hand before the new-comer slammed into her as well. Stopping well short, his breathing was shallow despite what had clearly been a good run.

"Not now, Miller. I'm preoccupied."

"Oh! Sorry, sir. But, we've got a moderate problem, here. You said to alert you if our schedules got disrupted." At his hurried explanation, Sergeant raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm? Explain then. Quickly."

"We keep getting assigned to follow this damned girl around for no obvious reason, and we're being pulled from our positions to do it. Could you talk to the Security Head, before things-"

"HOLD IT, Miller." The man froze, wondering why his boss was being so careful when she usually just dealt with issues. He followed her gaze, and realized that he had bumped into a guest, one Kamijou Touma, who even now was rubbing his head with an awkward smile.

"Ah! What!? What's a student do-"

"MILLER." Again her confident voice rang out, and once again the guard stopped cold. In fact, Touma noticed that every head in the storage area that had so far been ignoring the commotion turned nearly as one. They all paid close attention, while Sergeant commanded their attention. "I'm taking this boy to first aid. He was injured in the magic show. Nothing for you to concern yourselves about; it's business as usual. Got it?" A chorus of nods responded. "Good. Back to work."

"Right, sir, sorr-" Miller had immediately attempted to take his leave, but was halted for a third time by his superior. This time her outstretched hand caught his shoulder, spinning him around. In a flash, a small sheath of papers she produced from her coat was thrust in to his arms.

"Never you mind. Just listen. Take these consignment details to Harsten, this can be her problem. She'll work it through, give her my authority. Tell her that if we have to, we just ignore the Head when push comes to shove. Spread the word afterwards on that last point. Now, move out."

"Yes Sergeant! Sorry for the interupti…" But he was already gone and out of earshot, sprinting back into the room from which he came. His curious mix of professionalism and informality confused Touma greatly, but he sensed another opportunity to pry out some information.

"So… you're in charge of security here? There sure are a lot of guards!" This time, his questioning provoked a hard glare.

"Holidays are busy. Dangerous people around. Best not to worry about it too much." The implication from Sergeant that she was one of those dangerous people shut Touma up immediately, and they carried on through the second half of the warehouse in silence. The not-so-subtle threat meant to scare off an overly-curious student had the predictably opposite effect on the boy.

 _Now I'm certain something is wrong. Those guards were acting strange, and there were so many all in this one space. I've got to make sure she doesn't suspect me of anything, so I guess I'll just play along for now, like when I was on stage…_ As he decided his plan of action, they left the other guards behind. An adjoining hall brought them to a small medical room. Seating Touma on the room's only chair, Sergeant quickly peered through his hair.

"Like I thought. That's a nice lump. I'll get some ice. Don't move." Briskly stomping from the room and sealing him in, the boy marvelled at his luck. He heard no click of a lock or a latch sealing him inside: the room was not set up to house a prisoner.

 _W-what? She's just going to… well, I guess I can have a peek around then!_ Standing up slowly, he crept up to the door and opened it slowly.

He was immediately met by two uniformed figures, who stared down at him in mild confusion while pausing their hallway patrol. All three looked at each other in various combinations of surprise and concern.

"Eheh. J-just waiting for first aid! Don't mind me…" Touma pulled the door back closed and clutched his chest. A _ll right, maybe_ _ **not**_ _so easy… There are so many guards!_ Frustrated, he returned to his chair to wait for a quiet period without any footsteps.

A quarter hour later, he finally realized the futility of his hope. Every few minutes a new person marched by like clockwork. _Come on, are they robots!?_ Sighing, he abandoned hope of sneaking out of an area so well trafficked, and waited for Sergeant to return.

When it felt like ages had passed, she did carrying an ice tray that was already dripping from the air's warmth. Popping out a number of cubes she wrapped them in plastic. Sergeant tossed them to the boy, who looking at his catch with solemn familiarity. "Well, let's go." She waited impatiently in the room's exit, with an expectant look on her face. As he stood up, the boy determined he would have to lose her if he wanted to learn more, but that seemed less and less likely due to her obvious professionalism.

"Right, right!" She led him a long way down three more halls before abruptly stopping at another doorway. _Oh, damn it! I need more time!_ They had reached a secondary stairwell, promising to take him up the Dianoid proper and away from what he needed to know. It almost seemed like Sergeant could sense his consternation, as she held the opened door from swinging shut with practised impatience.

"Move along." Though the boy hesitantly acquiesced, he paused when he saw the guard's face twitch. Reaching up to her lapel with one hand, she held the other to her ear. "Yes, what is… What…? No, we're not… You can't expect… Don't blame us, it's your..." She turned away slightly to mutter into her hidden communications system, trying to obscure her voice. Touma glanced around, sensing his chance.

 _I can't just run and hide, but maybe…_ He glanced again at the solid-looking carbon door leading up stairs. It was exceedingly thick and without windows, opened by a large handle containing a built in lock. It looked like the kind that would open from the inside when turned even if secured, but not from the outside. His eyes also rested on the tall stack of boxes that were piled haphazardly next to it. On top lay scattered papers and a thin piece of hard plastic that had broken off of something. Nearly on instinct he palmed the fragment, sliding it into his pocket just as Sergeant turned back around.

"… Look, 5 minutes, I'll assign someone... Yes. We're fine. Good. Alright." A nearly inaudible click signalled the end of her conversation, and she turned once again to Touma with frustration writ large on her features. Still holding the door, she gestured through it brusquely. "Take this door out, and follow the stairs to the main floor. That's the only door that's unlocked, so you can't possibly get lost. Hurry, I've got places to be."

"Uhm, yes! I'll do that now!" Touma sidled his way through the door under her watchful gaze. "Yes, I will. Thank for again for the help, I'm sorry I wasted your ti-" His efforts to stall worked, and the woman pushed him through and out of the hall before letting go of the door.

"Yes, yes, now go!" She began jogging away while the portal quickly closed. Though already a short way down the hall, Sergeant turned around behind her to ensure Touma had indeed left. She could tell that the door moved normally, and heard the solid chunk of it slotting hard into its frame, pulled into place by heavy springs. Satisfied despite her misgivings about the boy and his strange attitude, she hurried back the way they had come, finally free to vent a little of the temper that had gotten her discharged all those years ago.

"~~~~ing Magicians! Who the ~~~~ do they… It's not MY ~~~~ing problem they can't handle…" With the disappearance of her rapidly receding back, the hallway was left quiet once again.

!~~~~~~~~!

8:48 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, Sub-level 3

On the other side of the heavy door, Touma sighed in relief. He anxiously counted to twenty while carefully holding the plastic card between the door's catch and the wall. He had gotten lucky that the door itself had closed completely despite the obstruction, but still could not lock due to the plastic in the way. It had been a close shave just slotting it into place in time, after being thrown off balance from his unceremonious shove into the stairwell.

When he deemed it safe he slowly opened the door a crack, fighting its weight. When it became apparent he was alone, Touma stepped through fully, carefully closing it behind him. Darting into a hidden alcove by the medical room he steadied himself, thoughts racing.

 _Ah, well. Here we go! Trespassing already and I don't even know for sure something is happening. And yet… I have to find out, just to make sure. This is such a horrible time for something like this, too...! WAIT! Misaka must be wondering what happened! Crap, she's going kill me if she thinks I ditched her without a good reason, I must've been down her for an hour; I need to text… Oh,_ _ **damn**_ _it!_

When he pulled out his phone which doubled as his clock, he realized he couldn't turn it on. It was cracked heavily along one side of the casing, and seemed to have no life left whatsoever: his fall from the stage must have damaged it.

 _I guess this means I can't call Tsuchimikado either, and find out what he knows. It can't be helped I suppose. But…_ He stifled a heavy sigh and his favourite catch phrase, remembering he needed to be stealthy. _…Why do I get the feeling this is only the start of my problems tonight?_

!~~~~~~~~!


	12. Part 1: Chapter 10

**Welcome to Wednesday, and your mid-week update! Things are going to start advancing at this point towards the adventure aspects, so be ready. Once again, tips and pointers about mistakes are appreciated: I'm taking notes about whether I want to change things that are minor, or justify them later in a work around, but know that I try to remember them and make notes. Also, some things that seem like they are unclear may be explained later, so be patient: I have thought out quite a bit in advance so I think I dodged most of the major fallacies and plot-holes. But I fully expect to be wrong about that! Time will tell.**

 **Random thoughts: The stats for this site are really cool. Despite the fact I don't update on Thursdays, those days have substantially more views than other non-update days, like Monday, and even some Saturdays. What's up with that? Also, in a random factoid, all of my reviews have come for the latest chapter, and only on the day of its release: never later. That means no one but the early birds have written a review. Finally, a few later chapters have not only more views, but viewers, than some of the early ones. Who is skipping chapters, and why? That's so nifty to see. I am always impressed by statistics, so I am probably getting more out of writing this than anyone else... Numbers, people. NUMBERS. (Speaking of numbers, just as I go to post this, A Certain Holiday Season hit exactly 5000 (!) total iews. Good lord. I'm speechless, other than to say thank you!)**

 **Ah... Mm. Anyway, thanks for your time, and I'll see you again on Friday!**

 **Chapter 10**

8:18 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, 1st floor, main amphitheatre

"…when I find that Idiot, I'm going to murder him. Zap! Dead. Seriously, why is his phone off NOW, of ALL times!? GAH!" Pocketing her own device with enough fury to startle a nearby couple, Mikoto shook her head. _All right, so he's still not back, I've already checked the entire main floor, the show is almost over, and he's not answering calls or texts. The guards just tell me to wait, but…_ She looked again at the uniformed men and women in question, working 50 feet away from the main exit to the amphitheatre where the level 5 stood.

Most were bent over boxes, where they were repackaging the planes and helicopters that had flown earlier in the show. A few more security personnel stood on watch, idling addressing questions from passer-by about the remaining craft that still lay on the floor along the hall's edge. While she monitored their efforts, Mikoto realized at last what seemed odd to her.

… _If they're guards, why are_ _ **they**_ _the ones packaging up these toys? There are plenty of janitors or other people who could be doing it… I knew something stunk about this! They're hiding something, them and those magicians. Up to no good, and that idiot is probably already neck deep in it. Well, guess there's only one thing to do._

Pushing herself from the wall that had supported her lean, she casually sauntered over to the wall of toys. The guards eyed her suspiciously, but she betrayed nothing but a smile.

"Hi there! I was just in the magic show, and I wanted to get a closer look at these-."

"You can't. And the show is still on, you know." One of the guards curtly answered, clearly trying to establish his authority. His female companion followed his lead by nodding assent, but Mikoto pressed on.

"O-oh, yes, well, I'm waiting for someone I'm with who… left in a hurry. So while I'm waiting, I thought I'd try to figure out how they pulled off that trick. I won't touch them, I promise! I'll stay just here!" During this conversation, Mikoto had snuck to within 5 feet of a bright red helicopter. The guards exchanged a glance, before the silent one shrugged. Stretching his neck, the male guard relented.

"You can look, but I promise you they're not birds."

"Right right, thank you!" For a few minutes, the guards watched as Mikoto peered from many different angles at the toy, but they eventually lost interest as group of young boys came to investigate. Sensing their backs were turned, the level 5 glanced around for observers before sending a small spark into a different toy, a blue plane several feet down the line.

When they had been flying, Mikoto could tell that the toys were not merely remote controlled but were also remote activated. A radio signal must have sent a small current through the motor's starter, cueing the engines to start draining battery power to spin its propellers, all without a physical switch on board. Though she wasn't sure if she could effectively fly one, she knew she could at least activate its internal engine. But that wasn't the only part of her plan.

While she kicked the motor into action, she also held with magnetic force the light steel blades of its front mounted rotor. It was odd sensation to be fighting her own power as she both assisted the engine's spin and maintained her grip, but in the short battle between her abilities and the plane's internal structure the esper won out. With a small snap, the main drive shaft broke that spun inside, and the propeller remained still.

The guards turned around at the noise, having only heard the toy's breaking. After sparing a glance towards an innocent-looking Mikoto they heard nothing else, and so turned their backs once again. The girl waited a minute longer, to ensure her cover was clear and that her plan had worked. Eventually a smile flashed across her face, and she took a few steps back.

"Thank you for letting me have a look! I think I figured it out, so… Good-bye now!" Skipping lightly off, the guards watched her shrinking back with mildly incredulous looks. Once by the doors to the auditorium again, Mikoto pulled out her phone and pretended to be checking something.

In reality, she reached out with her electronic senses across the hall. Sure enough, she could still tell the engine of that one plane was happily spinning away without turning its blade: unless you held it to your ear it would be impossible to know it was on. Impossible for anyone other than a strong electromaster, of course, who could feel the electromagnetic disturbances all electric motors make. [1] As long as she was near enough, she would be able to tell where it went.

Within minutes, the magic show ended and guests began slowly filing out from the amphitheatre in great numbers. The toys had all been packaged by now, and the guards had moved the packages onto large dollies. When there were gaps in the lethargic crowd they rolled out and away, down the Dianoid's hall. And through those same gaps a good distance behind followed one Misaka Mikoto, idly following the tracking device she had rigged. They progressed at an even pace through the lobby towards the back of the building, but the girl remained patient.

 _Well, I didn't expect this to be the hard part. Might as well see as much as I can first, I could always learn something._

Sure enough, the caravan led to a massive elevator, which held just enough room for all the packages of toys to fit onto it. A hundred feet back on a bench facing to the side, Mikoto calmly waited to see where they went.

When the doors closed, she noticed with surprise that they were heading down. And then deeper still. _Whoa… how deep does this place go!? …Damn, it's moving out of range, I can't tell-!_ Standing up abruptly she sped to the elevator, just keeping the toy within sensation. It went down almost a hundred feet before stopping, leaving Mikoto just ten from the closed door of the elevator. It soon became clear the present was moving through a large complex below, but the interference of distance and solid matter became too great to accurately gauge more. Frustrated for a second, she composed her thoughts. _I assumed it'd be going down somewhere, but that's really deep… Well, now I've got to get access below. I could hack the elevator, but it's too noticeable, security there will see me for sure without something to hide in. Now then…_

Looking around, she noticed that not all the guards had ridden down. Luckily, while all the toys had fit, some people were considered less important and were forced to resort to a walking route. It would be harder to secretly follow them without the plane, but Mikoto had to do something. _Even if I can just find their route down, I can go a little later when the coast is clear..._ They quickly moved into an employee's only area, which gave the girl chasing them pause for a moment. She hadn't done too much yet that was obviously illegal, but was she really willing to just trespass after them without clear evidence? She thought for a second of a certain idiot… And snorted aloud at her doubts.

"…Of course I am!" Her course decided, Mikoto ran off in hot pursuit. She was in luck: the ding of a small elevator's door closing rang out not far down the hallway she had just entered. As she approached she saw it required a passkey, but that wasn't about to slow her down. Waiting a second for it to reach the bottom and deposit its occupants, she commandeered its systems through her handheld's hacking methods and locked the lift controls down. Calling it back up, she dashed inside, readying herself for a fight should she run into someone.

Going down as far as it would take her, Mikoto was greeted by grey carbon walls when the lifts doors finally opened. Glancing through and seeing no one, she quickly erased her digital tracks in the lift's internal memory before restoring its functionality. Ducking into a closet whose door was ajar, she energized her electromagnetic senses and cast about for her lure.

It was faint, but there was the familiar signal she had created. It was even nearby, though shielded by a number of walls. Mikoto nearly ran out to find it, but halted for a moment.

 _Hmm… I'm used to doing this sort of thing guns blazing, but… I don't know that everyone here is an enemy. Since I can't just shock them yet, I need to sneak around… but how…? At least there aren't any cameras down here to worry about blocking, but there will be more people…_

There didn't seem to be any obvious solution. She had no disguise that would work, and no hidden paths to follow. There weren't any metal ducts or vents to squeeze through, or shafts that would go unnoticed, forgotten and crowded with pipes and supports. In short, the Dianoid was a mostly solid block of carbon with only the minimum of wasted space. With a sigh, Mikoto hung her head.

"Of course I have to sneak in the one building that doesn't use metal everywhere. That's so unfair! What are the chances..." Calming down, she realized she would have to just risk it. Keeping her threat detection as sensitive as possible, she crept confidently from her hideaway and through the labyrinthine underground of the mall, towards that faint but steady signal.

!~~~~~~~~!

8:59 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, Sub-level 3

Touma was well and truly lost.

He had completely underestimated both his own knowledge of the mall from the St. Germain incident and the effects hiding from guards would have on his navigation. After running down the third wrong turn taken to narrowly avoid notice, he ended up crouched between two stacks of boxes, struggling to control his rapid heartbeat and re-plan his route.

 _Agh… Crap, this sucks! I hate this part. Why can't there just be something magical to punch? If anyone sees me now, I'll be at best captured and worst, shot!_ He cradled the ice pack to his skull, still vaguely aware of his lump's painful throb. Once he felt secure again and the world stopped spinning, Touma snuck out from his cover at a crawl.

He could have been anywhere, or even doubling back over previously tread ground. The only thing that remained certain was that he was still on the third sub-basement, because he couldn't risk taking a route further up or down. Hoping what he was looking for was nearby, Touma continued his trek.

Within a few minutes, he felt his luck might have turned. The hall he was about to enter was inhabited, but not by a wandering guard. Instead, a uniformed woman stood clearly on watch, protecting a door behind her. Though he couldn't read the writing on it, Touma saw at once it was important.

 _Right, okay! Now I just gotta distract her. I think that hall up ahead doubles around her, so if I move over there…_ Creeping forwards with renewed enthusiasm, the boy entirely forgot how his luck ran. A few hallways behind him, and just around the bend, a second guard was tracking him.

As the guard walked, he checked the floor once again. Sure enough, the small splatters of water were there. At first he had radioed in suspecting a leak, but as he continued patrolling he realized they were too spread out and irregular. Curiosity getting the better of him, he followed them now like footprints in the snow. He didn't know exactly what he suspected to find in the end, but guard duty was pretty boring.

Touma meanwhile had managed to get around to the optimum position, nestled behind a bunch of heavy plastic pallets. [2] The guard stationed by the door was not quite visible down a nearby hallway, but Touma had a clear shot to his real target if he sprinted around a few corridors. This of course was providing the female sentry moved. He planned to make a small noise and then circle around to the door as she left her post to investigate. If it was locked, he would jump the female guard and get the key he assumed she had on her way back. _I don't like just hitting someone like this, especially if they're a woman, but she has to be involved if she's guarding something important!_ _ **Right,**_ _let's-_

Distracted by his internal pep talk, he failed to notice the proximity of the unknown second guard close by. Just moments before he would be assuredly discovered, Touma without thinking pounded his fist into his palm, forgetting that he still held an icepack. It flew from his hand and out into the hallway. The boy's terror at his massive mistake only grew when a heavy boot stepped hard on the bag.

It tore immediately, spilling ice water and slush from the remains of the cubes. A loud cry signalled the fall of a very confused guard, who would later swear something had jumped out at him. Down he went, gripping the pallets and dragging a number down with him. They landed atop him with a series of groans, and Touma went white with panic.

"Hey! What's going on down there!?" The other guard had clearly heard the commotion, and from the sound of her voice was hurrying over. Seizing the chance, the boy dashed from his cover down his planned path.

 _That works I guess!_ As he rounded the first corner, he heard the woman arrive.

"Hey, wh- Ah! AGHH-" From the renewed sound of violence and falling pallets, Touma could only assume she had bit the dust alongside her comrade, slipping on more of the watery mess. Shaking his head in amazement, the boy whose bad luck even caught those around him reached the door.

For once, his fortune really was good. The door didn't even have lock built into it, being an internal door in an already highly secure area. Even better, it was obviously important, for written plainly on the carbon door was the following.

Guest/Performer Accommodations: Main Floor Amphitheatre

Sparing no time Touma pulled the door hard. It resisted, until he used his right hand. Imagine Breaker burst whatever had sealed the door, and it came open easily. Slipping inside and pressing it shut, he leaned back on it to sigh heavily. His relief caught in his throat when he took in what was actually in the room. There, lying perfectly still on a table surrounded by clutter, was…

!~~~~~~~~~!

27 minutes before, at 8:38 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, Sub-level 3

Misaka Mikoto checked one last time to see that she was alone, before reading the sign in front of her.

Guest/Performer Accommodations: Main Floor Amphitheatre

It hung from the door, behind which the motor of her tracking device still whirred even though it had already begun to slow. It had only taken her minutes to find the toy she had jury-rigged, but the battery was not designed for long term usage. Still, it had done its job: Mikoto was now preparing to do hers.

"Perfect." _They're done the show, so they should be here. And if they're not, I'm sure I'll find something. Time for some answers!_ Pulling it wide without hesitation, she dove headfirst into the room. "ALL RIGHT, WHERE'S THAT IDIOT!?" Expecting anything from a secret laboratory to a nefarious dungeon, she was still not prepared for what she saw.

The room was fairly large, but it was stuffed to the ceiling with paraphernalia and strange magical objects. Some rounded, some jagged, more glistening and still others shrouded in darkness, they were too numerous to really take in and too disorganized to fully survey. Statues, shrouds, carpets, mirrors, chests, and man-sized tank of water and disturbingly even a variety of weapons were haphazardly leaning over and across each other. Finally, a great many of the boxes which stored the electronic planes and helicopters occupied a large uneven cluster in the room's centre. A number of dressers, benches, and tables were barely visible beneath and behind piles of clutter, but one unusually clear vanity set [3] at the far side of the room was occupied by the magician's assistant, Miss Baker. The comb she was deftly using paused in her hair as she stared in mild shock at the newcomer.

"…Who are you?" The surprisingly calm tone served only to fan the flames of Mikoto's anger, as she stomped her foot.

"The boy you did magic on! Where-!?" She was interrupted by a loud rattling sound to her right. Whirling, she saw a section of the wall slide down, revealing The Amazing Amazo himself. He stepped over the many trinkets that had fallen in his way, brushing imaginary dust off his suit distractedly.

"My, my, Catherine, what a truly strange performance that was! I never thought coming out of retirement would be so… Hmm?" He paused upon seeing the serious look his assistant was giving him. Turning, he spotted Mikoto for the first time, and his face fell. "What? Who? Lord, what **now**?" Amazo's composure finally seemed to be cracking. "My first real casting in years, and this all happens **now**?"

"Where is he!? Where did you send him!? AND I'M THE ONE ASKING QUESTIONS HERE!"

"Master, it's the girl he was with. That boy."

"Oh! You're quite right. But how did she… Excuse me, miss, but did you not see him? We sent him back upstairs, did we not? Miss Sergeant **swore** she handled that…" His genuinely perplexed look momentarily rattled Mikoto. Looking around, Touma clearly wasn't in the room. For a moment, the wind was taken from the girl's sails.

"A-a-a-ah… A likely story! Magic doesn't work on him, nothing does! So how did you send him-"

"Oh, for crying out loud. We used a trapdoor, not Magic! Really now, does **everyone** in this place know about true Magic!? I thought this was the city of Science!" Running his hands through his hair in consternation, the Magician had begun pacing back and forth. He suddenly stopped, turning to face the brazen girl and point an accusatory finger towards her. "Regardless, Miss, Kamijou Touma is not here. And **you** shouldn't be either! Seriously, what possessed you to-" Taken aback at the sudden turnaround of blame, Mikoto retaliated with accusation in kind, sparks flying.

"I THOUGHT HE WAS IN DANGER, OKAY!? AND BESIDES, **YOU'RE STILL THE BAD GUYS HERE!"** Her shout interrupted Amazo, who seemed to wilt under the weight of her words. Though something haunted his expression, he stiffened and tried to defend himself.

"W-what? No, **we're** not… I swear, we're not vil-"

"Master." The sharp tone of his apprentice brought a deadly silence to the changing room. "They, or someone else, must suspect something of our plans. We are prepared for this."

"But still, a random girl…" Miss Baker's expressionless stare met his hesitation and won out. With a sigh, he continued. "You are right. I suppose we must. She is an esper of some sort as well, so it's all too suspicious…" Sensing the implied threat, Mikoto took a ready stance and began drawing her focus.

"Don't think it'll be easy taking me out! I'm getting my answers! I'm no pushover, you know!" At this, the magician smiled sadly.

"I wouldn't doubt it. In fact, I hope you're not. You might make things quicker and safer if you have some strength. Tell me, did you happen to partake in one of my candies from the show?" Mikoto's worried expression told him all he needed to know. "Ah, good. This will be easier than I thought. Do you have the Spirit of Christmas in you, I wonder…?"

"What? What do you-" She watched him square off against her, arms tensed, and Mikoto quickly cleared her thoughts. _Never mind, no time for words. I'm going to want to take him out quick, and then clean up his assistant. Don't give him any time._ Analyzing quickly, she launched her first and final attack. The powerful bolt of lightning might have been excessive, but it wouldn't kill him either way. It crackled angrily, closing in on its target much faster than Amazo could raise his hand to his chest. But just before it connected-

-it struck a plastic comb instead. Super-heated fragments blasted across the room in a small explosion as Mikoto flinched in surprise. _W-what? When?_ It was only then she saw the grim smirk on the assistant's face, even though the woman was breathing hard. Next to her was Amazo, 15 feet from where he had just stood, his shoulder held by Miss Baker. Somehow, she had swapped the two objects instantly, protecting the magician from her strike. His hand was now clutched to his chest, silhouetted by a fading glow, but he released the hold to grasp his partner's arm in concern.

"Substitution, dear girl. Simple Magic, made harder the less similar the two objects are. Catherine, are you-"

"I'm fine, Master. We ought to start the broader casting now that you've already incorporated this room. There is a time limit."

"Yes, yes, I suppose so." Incredibly, the man turned his back to Mikoto and began rummaging around on a desk. Fighting back real laughter, the girl prepared to correct her earlier miss. _Hah! I'm still here, you daft…_

 _Hmm? U-uh, yeah! Now, I've got you right…_

 _Wait. Something's wrong… my arms… sluggish?_

 _I feel heavy… tired… what is this? When did he…_

 _That glow. His chest. So…he already cast someth…_

 _Heh. I didn't think… it's be as fast as that_

 _You know, I should really be_

 _more worried about this_

 _just too tired though_

 _say he's not really bad_

 _I should help him_

 _he_ _lp Christmas_

 _why fight_

 _but_

 _wait_

 _but_

 _that Idi-_

 _idiot_

 _T-t-t-t-t-t-t-tou_

!~~~~~~~~~!

When Amazo heard the intruder slump to the floor behind him, he knew something was wrong.

"Hmm? Hey, wait…!" He dropped what he was gathering up and ran over to kneel beside her. Cradling the girls head in his arms. "Catherine, did you…?"

"No, Master… I did nothing. I don't understand either." Miss Baker joined them at a leisurely pace, squinting at the motionless form of Mikoto. "The magic might be interacting with her powers in a strange way."

"Hmm… yes. She clearly can control electricity, judging by her failed attack, but to even shield her consciousness with it? This city is truly terrifying to produce a girl like this." Sighing, Amazo placed a hand on her head, shaking his own in disbelief. "I don't think she's in pain. That's a relief… I can't believe she can resist the compulsion this thoroughly."

"Even if we can't manipulate her, we've taken her out of the picture." Her cool analysis prompted yet another sigh from the young woman's teacher.

"Maybe so. But still, I'd like to understand more. How many more of these espers are going to be able to resist my spells?" He straightened up, cradling the girl in his arms. He moved easily towards a table, clearing it of debris. He laid her down on top, looking thoughtful. "This moves things forward a little more than planned, but someone might notice her absence before we can start. On to act three, Miss Baker. At least we know now we won't be unopposed from within." He turned his back on Mikoto and moved to the false wall he had entered from, but stopped when his assistant spoke.

"Should we really just leave her? She is a threat."

"Yes, this is best. The spell will only get stronger here as the field expands, since this is so near the planned epicentre. I expect at some point her defences will fail, and she will assist us. The wards I will leave in place will let us know. And if not, we'll be done before anything serious can happen to her. No one's in any real danger, anyway."

"But alone? We should place a watch. It is not prudent to-" Finally turning, Amazo cut her off with a small smile.

"Always so paranoid, hmm? Well, you might be right this time, for you did also suspect that boy… We can set a guard if that will ease your mind. If you would, please call Miss Sergeant about it. This is a task for her and her forces, especially seeing as they let this girl intrude in the first place. I will see you above when you are done, after I finish my last preparations."

Stepping back though his hidden passage to a dark and empty hall, he left the wall open behind him. In the dressing room, Miss Baker walked over to a walkie-talkie by her vanity stand to make a certain timely call. And all the while, Mikoto lay still on the table, gentle arcs of lightning playing off her troubled brow.

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] This may be a slight stretch of her powers, as well as few subsequent bits this chapter, but given what she can do in other areas I'd be surprised if it was impossible. Seriously, Level 5's are broken. It's just fun to imagine what they can do, if given sufficient time and thought. I'll try to rationalize every utilization I make, and if I make a major mistake about what she could even theoretically do, then… Whoops!

[2] Pallets are the big flat things that a forklift uses to carry boxes of other things on top. They are usually wood, but this **is** Academy City. I explain this because I realized later not some people might not be familiar with the term. I used it earlier in the story, but if people don't know what they look like here it this scene wouldn't make much sense.

[3] A vanity in terms of furniture is a small mirrored makeup station of sorts. Used by performers, but in the past were common in well-to-do homes. Think writing desk, but for people who write on their faces. I don't know how many people don't know this, but again I realize I shouldn't assume too much.

[4] Secret note time! I really wanted to have a cool, scrolling effect going with Mikoto's blackout, but the coding here doesn't allow for any workarounds. Not tabs, not spaces; I even tried invisible characters! Oh well. It just went diagonally from the left to the right, so you can imagine that if you want to make me feel better about my failure.


	13. Part 1: Chapter 11

**Welcome once again to the weekend! This intro'll be short: I will merely point out that this is effectively the halfway point of this story. The remaining chapters generally are longer than the earlier, but I think I can maintain the schedule. Advance notice: there may be a hiatus in a few weeks, but that remains to be seen. For now, I hope you're ready!**

 **NOTE: To summarize the last chapter, for those who got a little lost; the time stamps are showing that Mikoto basically got to the room first. As for what Touma finds when he arrives later, well...**

 **Read on!**

 **Chapter 11**

9:07 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, Sub-level 3

"M-Mikoto!?" Her prone figure startled the girl's name from his lips. Rushing forward, Touma bounced off the table's edge in his hurry. Though a few odd knick-knacks tumbled down from around her, the unconscious esper did not react in the slightest. _Why is she here!? How did…_ Yet there was no time for idle thought.

"Hey, Misaka-san! HEY! BIRI-BIRI! Wake up!" He quickly looked her over for wounds, but could see no obvious problems. No bruises, no blood: just a quiet crackling sound. It was then Touma realized that she was channelling electricity in small, staccato [1] bursts, all across her body. He laid Imagine Breaker on her right arm, and with its usual sound-

-her eyes fluttered open.

"Oh! Oh, thank goodness, Biri-biri… you really had me… hmm? H-hey! What are you-!?" Though she had clearly woken up, something was wrong. She began listlessly pulling herself upright, to sit awkwardly on the table. Impossibly, she ignored Touma next to her and pushed past him, trying to break free of his grip as she tried to stand.

"…have to… gifts… must help…" She muttered so softly the boy could hardly tell, but all the same he lurched back from the table in surprise. Yet the moment Imagine Breaker left her arm, Mikoto crumpled, threatening to crash to the ground. Rushing to catch her, Touma only managed to restart the pattern when he laid his curse on her again. This happened twice more until the boy finally managed to balance her dead weight without using his right hand. She lay propped against him while he knelt on the carbon floor, her small discharges tickling his skin and raising the hairs on the back of his neck. Touma held her tight to his chest with his left hand, struggling to understand her condition.

"What is going on with you, Biri-biri!? This is incredibly weird…" Sighing, he simply held her for a minute, grateful at least she wasn't seriously hurt. _We can't stay here, though… how are we going to get out with her like this?_ Trying to stand up, her head slipped off his shoulder, and he reached out to brace it. However, his only free hand was Imagine Breaker. Once again the sparkling stopped with the familiar activation of his power, but the piercing sound seemed louder than before. Almost echoing. But before Touma could ponder that experience…

"…T-touma… what…?" This didn't sound like the deranged muttering he had heard the first time he had touched her; if she had called him idiot instead, it would have just sounded like she was very tired. He felt her stir in his arms, and in surprise his hand slipped. Her brief flirtation with consciousness washed away, face falling forward onto his shoulder as the sparks resumed.

"…Uhm. Hmm." With hesitation, Touma glanced at his hand before touching her arm like before. As expected, the arcs of lightning stopped, but…

"…deliver…happiness…" He removed his hand; she fell limp.

"I wonder…" He brushed her forehead-

"…gah… **idiot** … stop… that…" This time he held it there, exhaling in relief.

"Oh, thank goodness. Now I **know** you're back."

!~~~~~~~~!

While the girl slowly regained her senses, Touma shifted Imagine Breaker to the back of her head so she could lean away. Mikoto slumped with visible exhaustion onto her calves, while Touma watched in worry.

"Hey, are you-" She flinched at his voice so close to her face, and he quickly quieted in embarrassment. "Hey. Are you okay?" Slowly, she opened her eyes and nodded.

"Mmm... Mmhmm. Headache. But fine…? W-ait… W-what are you… My head… You… Y-y-y-your h-h-h-hand!" Her grogginess abating, she followed the track of his right arm up to his hand, where it lay nestled within her hair. If she had been able to use her abilities the discharge would have been impressive, but as it was she just sat beet-red and stammering, quaking wide-eyed in his grip.

"S-sorry, Bi-Misaka-san, but you were unconscious! There's something affecting your mind, but as long as I'm touching your head-" _E-even if she can't shock me, I don't want her getting the wrong idea-_

"…A-ah, I get it. S-so, this keeps me awake…" _Of course it does. That's why. No other reason._ She interrupted, looking aside with a blush. They sat for few second like that, until something clicked in her mind. Turning back with a snap, she blurted out the important discovery she had made, only to hear that he also had something on his mind.

"Hey, they're using-"

"-real Magic! ... eh?" Touma seemed the more surprised of the two at their simultaneous outbursts. "Hey, you figured it out!? That's really impressive, you've only-"

"I've seen it enough times, idiot! Besides, I **am** smarter than you. And anyway, **YOU** were right up there with them, why the Hell didn't you stop them!?" Momentarily taken aback, Touma struggled for a response.

"What? W-what else could I have done? It's not like I can just punch them onstage!"

"Well, you didn't have to be so accommodating! Why did you just let them box you up like that!? And **FLAMETHOWERS** , are you-"

"I-I-I was caught off guard! I mean, how was I supposed to know they'd be villains!? I mean, he's actually called 'The Amazing Amazo' for goodness sake! What kind of evil Magician would do that!? It's not fair, breaking the rules like that! Ow, my head…" His own frustrated shouting having aggravated his wound, Touma carefully shifted the left hand which was around Mikoto's waist to his own head. The girl, despite her distraction, became aware of something else that began to annoy her. Unthinking, she reached up with her right hand to bat aside his repositioned hand and parted the boy's hair, looking for something.

"Hey, the woman earlier kicked you on the other side… wait…" He winced at his light touch _A… another lump?_

"Well, I kinda took a hit when I fell down a trapdo-"

"YOU GOT **ANOTHER** HEAD INJURY!? Be more careful, Idiot! You make enough bad choices without brain damage, you don't need any help!"

"It's not like I want to! I just…"

Within seconds, their bickering died down. Each noticed that it was very difficult to have an argument with someone whose head was a foot away, looking more worried than mad. Their eyes met, sealing their lips, and the uncomfortable silence stretched out. Eventually, a smile teased around the corners Touma's mouth, while Mikoto's own twitched. Finally, he spoke.

"…It's going to be awkward getting out of here, isn't it?"

"O-ooooh, yeah. Worse than you usually make it, Idiot. And before you say it, I'm **not** letting you carry me-"

"Oh yes you are! You were just passed out on the-"

"NO WAY, I'm fine now! I can walk as long as-"

"I am **not** walking down the hall hanging onto your ear; I'll look like your father dragging you off for a span-"

"FINISH THAT SENTENCE MISTER AND WATCH WHAT HAPPENS."

!~~~~~~~~!

 _Man, am I glad she can't zap right now. As it is, I'll have to be careful for weeks._

 _I can't believe he's carrying me. This is worse than my daydream earlier… A-argh…_

They had finally reached a compromise: Mikoto would not stand to be carried off wedding style, while Touma demanded she have a chance to rest. The only reasonable solution had the girl on his back, with his right hand cradling her head over his shoulder. Clearing his throat, the boy snapped Mikoto out of her thoughts as he started towards the room's main entrance from the table.

"Say, how did you even get here, Bir- I mean, Misaka-san? I mean, there were so many-"

"This isn't my first rodeo, bucko. Besides, I could ask… WAIT! I just remembered!" She squeezed his shoulder suddenly and he paused to listen. "That's not the only way into here! Come on, go left!" She kneed his ribs on the appropriate side, and he staggered over at her whim involuntarily.

"Agh, ow! Hey, you know, words work just-"

"There's a secret door, right here! See the cracks? No need to go to the hallway again. now, this thing is electric, so let me…" She trailed off, looking thoughtful for a moment. Even though she could clearly see where the division began, it became apparent there was a remote way of activating it. Normally that would have been no trouble for the esper, but this was not a normal day.

"…Forgot you can't use your abilities? Don't worry; we can manage the other way." When Touma turned to leave, he was stopped with the same forceful application of her legs. Swinging back around, he sighed. "I'm sorry, but-"

"Let go of my head for a second. I want to try something."

"What? But, I don't want to lose you again, if I take Imagine Breaker away -"

"J-just do it! Idiot…" He could feel the heat radiating from her cheek to his own, but he glumly obeyed. For a moment, he could feel the sporadic sparks return, but before she slipped under-

-the door slid downwards smoothly. He quickly stepped through, returning his hand to her head. Mikoto's breath was shallow, but he could feel her chuckle. "See? Can't keep me down. Now, let's-"

"You've got to take it easier, you know. You worry me sometimes-" She interrupted him again, this time with both knees at once. He winced as she squeezed hard, but the pressure let up nearly as suddenly as it began.

"…Just go. Come on already!" With a resigned sigh, the boy jogged off, down the gently sloping path.

!~~~~~~~~!

9:29 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, Sub-level 3

"…I was that close back then!? Such misfortune." The mysterious tunnel had slowly ramped down a floor, opening up behind a false panel directly into the room with the trap door. Stepping through, the room remained empty and unchanged.

"Hmm? Oh, this is where you went then, after that trick? We could go back up with this lift here, right?" Taking her right hand from where it had wrapped uneasily around Touma's torso, she gestured up at the thin dark cavern above. The boy shook his head, causing Mikoto to blush as his cheek touched hers. Oblivious, he answered.

"Probably not a good idea. It comes right onto the stage, and who knows how long you can keep your powers going to make it work: we don't want to get stuck halfway up. Besides, I know where there is a stairway. It's just down this way, and it's less likely to be watched." They set off again, the girl on his back gripping tightly to maintain her balance. It wasn't easy for Touma to both keep hold of her head and support her with just his left arm, so Mikoto tried her best to keep a firm grip. Even so, more than once she nearly slipped off in the long corridor when her nerves caught up to her.

They eventually reached the stairwell's door, which Mikoto pulled open with a free foot. Scooting through, Touma began to make the long trek up. Though he went slowly, it wasn't long until he began to run out of steam.

"…Hey, y-you all right, idiot? This can't be easy."

"Ah, it's nothing. I barely feel you: it's more my headache that's the problem."

"O-oh. Right… A-at least, it looks like the bump is going down. You need more ice, though." Mikoto could tell he had had some earlier, for his hair remained slightly damp from its condensation. _Or… is that s-swe-DON'T THINK ABOUT THAT SORT OF THING._ Beneath her, Touma remained oblivious.

"Yeah, I should really keep some handy. It's pretty useful stuff."

The stairs finally ended, and a breathless Touma leaned against a banister. Taking advantage of the pause, Mikoto began to plan out loud.

"So, this takes us back to the main lobby? What are we going to do when we get there?"

"Well, I figure we use your condition as proof, I punch them and whatever magic they used on you breaks. Then we call Tsuch- I MEAN, s-some friendly magicians I know, and they'll take the two of them away from whatever authorities try to interfere afterwards. Same as usual, I guess?" Touma could tell from the girl's blank expression that she was not impressed with this analysis.

"Uh-huh. You really think it'll just go that smoothly?"

"W-well, no. I mean, something always happens, but we'll figure it out, right? We always have before. **AH!** Ah, w-watch your knees, careful!" His casual confidence in their team work predicated another squeeze of embarrassment from his unwilling backpack, but she smiled through the blush.

"…Heh. I guess you're right." Stretching her shoulders, she readied herself as best she could. "I think I can manage short, quick bursts without your hand, so when I say so let go of my head."

"What, you think I'm going to let you fight in your cond-"

"IF YOU THINK YOU'RE **NOT** -"

"AGH! N-not THERE! O-o-okay, okay! Agh…" While the boy recovered from the brutal assault on his sides, Mikoto relished her new-found position of control.

"Good! Seriously, you climbed a hundred feet of stairs with me; you can handle a quick skirmish like this. Especially with me here!" _M_ _aybe this piggy-back thing isn't so bad… Hmm?_ Through her amused smugness she thought perhaps she heard something from the head beside her. Muttering quietly wasn't enough to mask all of Touma's words, but Mikoto still couldn't quite catch everything.

"...not the point I was…" He paused when he realized she was listening. Annoyed, she prompted him to continue.

"Hey, what are you on about?"

"Uhm, nothing! Just… bracing myself! So… j-just tell me when you want to "Biri-biri" someone, I guess. Only for a second, though! I don't need you falling limp on me all of a sudden."

"I won't, you big worrier. …Hey! And stop CALLING ME THAT! Now, shove open that door, we've got a mall to save!"

Pushing through carefully, each student expected to come out into the crowded central hub of the hall's main floor. They did, but it was bustling in an unusual way.

There were certainly a number of people moving about, but there were many less than just an hour before, fewer than if it were just getting late in the evening. And instead of wandering in and out of shops, what guests remained were carrying and sorting a variety of objects. Men and women, boys and girls of every stripe were carting about boxes of wrapped presents as might be expected, yet also strange looking Christmas props. It was almost as if there was a mass sale on winter lawn decorations, but there was simply too many being purchased for that to make sense.

"…What is going on?" Mikoto voiced her profound unease as Touma attempted to casually stroll out from the hallway towards the Dianoid's main auditorium. No one seemed to be paying them any attention as they went, despite the strange piggy-back situation they were in. The customers were too engrossed in their own packages and concerns to notice anything around them. Oddly, the various goods they held with reverence generally ended up deposited throughout the area, randomly abandoned and instantly forgotten. Some were at the ends of corners and others in the middle of the walkways, but there didn't seem to be any underlying logic. Stepping around the many obstacles already in place in the strange scene, Touma tried his best to answer her question.

"I don't know, but… look at them. Don't they seem a little…" The boy struggled for words as an older gentleman passed close to his left. The man wore a stupid grin, almost barging straight into the students he ignored to reposition an inflatable penguin that had been slightly askew. "…Out of it? Blank?" Though he finished lamely, Mikoto tried to make light of their shared disquiet.

"I-I've heard of seasonal affective disorder, but this is ridiculous!" [2] Her awkward chuckles trailed off as she tried to meet the eyes of nearby people. None glanced their way, or so much as acknowledged the presence of the two teens. The air was oddly still and quiet, despite the constant motion. Light sounds of hard objects hitting harder carbon was all that could be heard aside from shuffling footsteps. It was an eerie experience. Mikoto continued rambling, trying to disrupt the unearthly calm. "It's clearly not that, though. They seem… happy? Happy, but oblivious… what is going on?" Mikoto repeated, completely stumped by the display around her. _They almost seem like that damned Misaki has taken over them, but there's actually too many for even Mental Out! Plus, their eyes seem so vacant… She's never like this with her puppets. Who else could it be, though...?_

Below her, Touma was working on an epiphany. _Why does this seem so familiar…?_ "Hey, Mikoto, are their lips moving?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, they are! I can't hear them, though. Go closer! Come on!" The judicious use of her knees brought them next to very young girl who was trying to stack a large round ball on a much smaller box. Despite her obvious difficulty, she was smiling dreamily, whispering to herself. Eyes-half lidded the little student swayed gently back and forth, chanting a mantra to herself.

"…gotta help… need to save… needs me…"

A dark feeling passed between Mikoto and Touma. Sharing a glance, they tried to listen to a few more samples, but each person they approached murmured a similar tale.

"…just put… so that Christmas… can't let it…"

"…no time to… Santa needs us…"

 _W-what? Santa!? What the Hell? This woman's 40 years old or more, why would…_ Mikoto could hardly believe her ears, but it really seemed that all these people believed they were somehow saving Christmas. Shaking her head slowly, she tried to make sense of it.

Touma, however, beat her to it. _NOW I remember why that sounds so familiar!_ He tapped his left elbow into the girl's side, to get her attention. "Bir-Misaka-san, I think I've got it! Man, this isn't good…"

"A-ah!?" Startled, she jumped a little, but calmed down quickly at his worried tone. "What? Do you know…?"

"Yeah. When I found you in that room, you were motionless, but your powers were doing something. When I touched your arm that stopped, but… Well, then you started acting like these people."

"Y-you mean… the Magician's spell is controlling them? That's… incredible. S-so many…!"

"It must be. Did he cast something on you?" Feeling Mikoto nod, the boy pressed on. "Ah… for some reason, as long as your powers are working it doesn't control you, but you seem to just lie there instead. And when I touch your head-"

"Oh, of COURSE! The magic only affects our minds, so your hand stops that!" _And my powers with it, but I can't gripe about that now._ "My ability can block mind control, but I guess this is different? Maybe it's a continuous effect that I can't quite keep up with…" _Good to know I can stop magical forms of that garbage, too. But wait, didn't we deal with something like this during the Hawaii incident? This seems… different._ Touma couldn't hear her musings, and so carried on with his own perspective.

"Yeah, that makes sense. But… there's a problem." Touma hesitated, trying to remember clearly. "We've dealt with magical mind control before, and this is way too… too **big!** Amazo would have to be impossibly strong to just use this many people without massive help! It doesn't add up… Agh, I wish I understood more about this sort of thing." Doubting for a moment, pace slowed to a crawl, until a stiff knee lightly prodded his side. "Ah! U-uh, what?"

"Come on, don't slow down! Even if they're not in clear danger, this is still wrong, right?"

"Well, of course! I guess we should hurry and stop this whole incident, huh?" He turned to give her a cheesy grin, drawing another blush and a series of prods.

" **Exactly**! So **hurry** it **up** , Idiot!"

"OKAY okay okay! Calm down!" He picked up the pace, and they finally reached the central plaza of the main floor. There Touma and Mikoto saw what could only be the work of Amazo and his assistant, the second of whom was standing a short way before them. Perched atop a large table, her back was turned as she surveyed the activity in front of her.

Apparently, one of the Magicians had conjured up the massive bulk of assorted magical materials from their large dressing room, and even more besides. They all sat in a enormous chaotic pile, reaching half of the way to the ceiling of the five story atrium. Slowly scuttling about this pile like ants were a handful of young students, tossing down objects to the older guests below. Some began carefully wrapping the objects in festive paper, while others merely took their prize and wandered off into the mall. There were even a handful of security guards helping with the distribution, but a couple more stood watch, visibly wearing large star-shaped amulets. One saw the two approaching students from the large room's hallway entrance, and called up to Miss Baker.

"Hey! Looks like one of them got hurt, a middle school girl. What do we do?" She was slow to turn, distracted by the tower of objects in front of her, but she responded in mild surprise.

"Hurt? I wonder how. I'm keeping an eye on the kids here… Oh. I was right about you two." When she finally did look at the intruders, her eyes narrowed frostily. This time, Touma felt no fear, but was put instantly on his guard.

"What are you doing here!? Why are all these people under your control!?"

"Control…? Oh, I see. You misunderstand." Dismissing his questions with an imperious wave of her hand through her hair, Miss Baker continued. "They're just helping us. They're in no danger."

"That doesn't matter! You can't just USE people like this! I HATE this sort of crap!" MIkoto's passionate outburst surprised Touma, who didn't quite realize the depth of the girl's angst towards a certain other level 5 abilities. "I don't care WHY, you can't use people like tools!"

"Even if those tools want to help? And are offering it willingly?" The assistant magician's icy response brought a second's hesitation to both students, but Mikoto was not to be denied. She reflected back on the experiences of her many sisters, before carrying on with new-found confidence.

"… EVEN THEN! **ESPECIALLY THEN!** So… LET THEM **GO** , BEFORE I-"

"Why am I even talking with you two? This is over."

She reached down to her feet, touching the table upon which she stood. It disappeared with a pop, only to be replaced with… _A neon light fixture? What?_ Touma blinked twice, not sure what happened as the magician lightly landed on the carbon floor beside the light which gently flopped to its side. _Hmm? What did-GAH!_ Mikoto's knees dug into his side as she threw her weight into him, shouting a warning.

"JUMP FORWARD! NOW!" Unable to argue and thrown off balance, Touma did so only to land flat on his face. A large splintering crash behind him drew what remained of his attention.

The same table that was supporting Miss Baker lay in countless pieces, almost as if it had fallen from a great height. Looking up, the boy realized that the light fixture now on the ground had come from directly above them, since there was a space in the pattern where one should have been. On his back, whispering loudly into his ear, Mikoto explained.

"She can swap objects at a distance somehow! I already fought them, remember!? Now, get up!" Lurching to his feet, Touma prepared for the next attack, looking around for possible threats. The nearby guards on watch began to draw their weapons, but before they could aim Miss Baker stopped them.

"Don't. They are too dangerous. I will kill them here. No more mistakes." Touma ran to meet her while she reached into her pockets for something: both were halted by a booming voice.

"Miss Baker, what was all that… Ah. Of course! I really should harbour no more surprises when it comes to you two!" Calling out from a balcony on the fourth floor was the Amazing Amazo, looking down with a wry expression. For a moment, he dropped his volume quietly enough to not be heard. "I'm not too surprised the magic doesn't work on you, but how can snap her out of it at the same time? Who or what exactly **are** you... I'll have to determine that, before we fight face to face..." Though a thick railing blocked some of the view, he was carrying some sort of staff in his left hand, clutching his chest with the right. Once again he raised his voice. "So, you really were here to stop me, weren't you!?" Though he shouted, the magician's tone was not angry.

"No! We never were, I swear!" Touma fierce denial prompted a raised eyebrow from above, but he could not tell as he continued. "We were just trying to have a nice night out! But if you're going to come here and ruin that night for everyone by taking over their minds… I don't care what lies you tell yourself to justify this, that make this seem right, but I'll shatter those illusions you hold!" The boy had to fight to not pull his hand from Mikoto's head and make a threatening fist, but the girl filled in for him.

"Y-yeah!" Pumping her own fist into the air, she then pointed a finger gun at the man up so high above them. "If you have a problem, work to fix it! If you need help, ask! Don't, don't just do THIS!" She waved her arms about her now, obviously referring to the mad work they had already accomplished. Amazo only shrugged in exaggerated indifference.

"I doubt you'd understand anyway! Now, what are you going to force us to do!? **Hmm**!? Are we going to fight!?"

"Oh, you'd better BELIEVE it! Hey Idiot, get ready for me to take a shot!" Fumbling in her coat, she reached for a familiar bag for casino token. Before she could pull it out, she froze. "Wha-hey, get away from her! What are you doing!?"

Mikoto had been ready to aim at the ground beneath Miss Baker's feet, who was the only one within range of her railgun, but stopped as a dozen school children from the mound of objects jumped in front of her target. They climbed over one another, each trying to provide the largest barrier they could. Barely awake, they half-shouted and half-muttered piteously.

"No… don't…!"

"Got… to stop…"

"Don't… Bad people…"

"Christmas! …needs…"

Fumbling, Mikoto withdrew her hand, and Touma's hand stayed firmly clamped to her head. "You-you can't… HOW DARE YOU!?" _I can't fire on them! And I don't know if I can just knock them unconscious with lightning when I'm like this…_ The boy who carried her was furiously considering the same issue.

 _Damn, there's so many of them! Even if I WASN'T carrying Mikoto, I couldn't restrain this many children without hurting one! What-what do we…_ Thoughts racing, they were both interrupted by the Magician's proud shout.

"How dare **us**!? **You** were the ones about to fire on children, and destroy the Spirit of Christmas!" From above, Amazo's mocking anger seemed to rally the various Christmas guests as he tapped his staff against the flow. They turned slowly, in delayed, like ants receiving messages from their queen. "You cannot be allowed to ruin this holiday! My assistants won't let you, will they!?" Voices murmuring, the controlled people dropped their objects and began to close in from all sides on the two students. "And you won't hurt them, will you!? What are you going to do, Kamijou Touma and… partner!? Ahaha-HAH!" Still shouting, the triumph was clear in Amazo's voice.

Looking around, Touma realized some shoppers had stolen up closer than he expected. Dodging away from first one then two more, it soon became obvious the slow moving festive-zombies were coordinating to cut off any hope of escape. Before long they would be surrounded, and forced to confront the waves of enemies. He and Mikoto shared a quick worried glance before nodding and shouting out their response as one.

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] A term meaning short, sharp, and quickly ended, cut off abruptly, on purpose, for an effect. Mostly used in music, but it's a fun word.

[2] Seasonal Affective Disorder is a subset of depression which occurs around the late fall and winter, based on getting less sun, outdoors fresh air, etc. It's not a great joke. I'm not a great comedian.

[3] So, in the coming chapters, the working of the spell Amazo has cast will slowly be hinted at. There are already enough clues to piece out its outline, but I wonder if anyone can guess exactly what is going on? Maybe you'll find out Sunday...


	14. Part 1: Chapter 12

**Whoops, nearly got distracted and made this a very late post. I still had time for one last edit, but I'm sure somethings slipped through the cracks. I hope so far you've been enjoying what's going on: this chapter is going to fill in some details that might have been unnoticed. I'm really glad I have a buffer zone of a few chapters, because I realized something I just wrote leaves a huge plot hole: I have plenty of time to work it out before that section goes up, but it was still a shock.**

 **I've decided to be more explicit in time stamps where-ever possible, but I had a quick question: would anyone like to have a brief synopsis of the previous chapter before the next one? I tend to leave a lot of cliffhangers, so if that would help you out please let me know! It's no trouble on my end. I'd even retroactively add them if I get some real response about it, but that might come after this part is fully out. Anyway, I hope to see you Wednesday!**

 **Chapter 12**

Flashback 30 minutes ago, at 9:02 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, Central Plaza

-M still in arcade no changes-

The mall was still bustling as Saten Ruiko placed her phone back into her purse, another false update given. She strolled through the main concourse towards the central plaza, where a mass of people were eagerly awaiting in a tight cluster around a large wooden table near the large room's edge. Despite her two separate missions in the Dianoid, the girl couldn't help but be curious for her own sake for the scheduled appearance of a certain magician. The show had been extremely entertaining after all, in many ways!

She smiled as she recalled the latest part of her evening. While continually fielding questions from Kuroko, Saten had followed Touma's request to the letter. [1] Unfortunately, this meant she lost the two of them while they ate: she was almost about to head back home in defeat when she spotted both darting into the main amphitheatre from a balcony above. She rushed down and stealthily peeked in from a side door, managing to catch most of the event. Marvelling at the magic and holding her sides from Mikoto's embarrassed reactions, Saten was poorly positioned to follow when both her quarries left the room in a hurry. Realizing her mistake she darted out after but of course each was long gone.[2] Expecting them to return eventually, she resigned herself to just enjoying the show, completely losing track of time. A number of other guests took to the stage, each having no difficulty being magical, and the show ended on a resounding high note. Leaving with the rest of the crowd, Saten was only sorry that she didn't manage to snag a piece of candy from one of those bags.

Now she had a chance to change that. Eventually certain that neither the level 5 nor the spiky haired boy were around, she cautiously approached the central plaza's main event. The large group of people were chatting animatedly, all waiting for the scheduled 9:15 signing session by The Amazing Amazo. Here Saten waited, hoping both to get her prize and eventually catch sight of Touma and Mikoto. She might even want an autograph, assuming her friend wasn't around to see her.

When the appointed time arrived, an expectant hush came over the assembly. People were expecting some sort of a dramatic entrance, but nothing came. A disgruntled muttering rapidly began to swell, but amidst the crowd a number of people were jumping in surprise. The commotion spread and a pathway began to open for something moving through people who parted like the Red Sea. Saten peered over the shoulders of those around her and eventually saw that everyone was looking down at something moving low along the ground.

A small, mechanical soldier was marching its disjointed way towards the table, taking awkward, tottering steps. In one hand it waved a baton that twirled occasionally, but otherwise it walked on a programmed course with supreme indifference to those around it. Slowly it approached the table, stopping mere feet in front as it turned. Facing the crowd, it suddenly halted all motion, becoming a lifeless statue.

Expectant now, the assembly's silence deepened. A second or two passed before the soldier dramatically threw its baton into the air. The stick spun, small and indistinct in the bright lighting, and hundreds of eyes lifted up to follow it. It seemed to reach impossibly high and hung far too long, twisting above lethargically near the ceiling five floors up. And then all at once it came back down, but it seemed far larger than before. Instead of a toy, it was now a large and weighty staff, tumbling down at great speed. Those who had approached closest to the display staggered back in fear, but just before it could strike and shatter on the hard ground a gloved hand caught it easily.

"Ahaha-HAH! Welcome to the after show, ladies and gentlemen!" The toy was gone, replaced by the Amazing Amazo himself. His triumphant entrance drew great applause, admirers surging inwards. And yet with a casual wave of his staff they hesitated, momentarily halting while he leapt gracefully onto the table which was littered with pens and souvenirs. He balanced on his new perch easily, booming voice commanding the attention of the entire hall. "Now, my new and dear friends, I must beg for your patience before we can truly begin. A small bit of preparations are always necessary, no matter how small the affair. Please, indulge a Magician?"

Most of the crowd were enthusiastic in their support, and even those more dubious were at least willing to hear the man out. Amazo smiled, and bowed low, muttering earnest thanks. From her space near the rear, Saten could hardly see what was happening, but soon noticed a small commotion behind her. A number of security guards were performing some sort of crowd- control: people were being asked to either fully enter the central plaza or step back a bit. At the same time, other guards began to surround the space's open perimeter with an odd assortment of decorations. Before she could spare any more attention, her ears caught the words she was waiting for.

"…yes, while we wait, please partake! They are just simple sweets, but I am certain they will put the holiday cheer in you! You can trust that, I assure you!"

 _Candy? YES, score! Now, how am I gonna…_ Without being rude, it was proving difficult to muscle for Saten to muscle her way towards the table. She worked for a minute, making little headway, when suddenly Amazo's voice rang out again, announcing it was time. _Time? Did I miss it!? Aw, man…_ Yet something in his eyes, as he stood up upon his makeshift stage, demanded she not dwell on her loss. He stood straight and proud, free hand clutched to his chest, masking a glow that grew and grew. As wispy beams materialized from between his fingers, Amazo's speech began.

"Yes, now my friends, we can begin! I have one last bit of Magic to perform this evening!" Appreciative "oohs" circulated the crowd. "Indeed, my last and most special trick of all requires each of you to assist me!" Ignoring the gasps of muted surprise from his audience, Amazo pressed on. "Yes, we will actually need the entire Mall! But luckily, I have you to help me!" His welcoming smile won over some tentative supporters, but most watching were simply curious about what such a trick could be. "You see, we're going to save Christmas! Yes, truly save it, from all those who would seek to make it hard, make it cold, make it cruel! Pervert it with pettiness! Who would rob you of your dreams." The glow in his hand had become a potent glare, but Saten couldn't take her eyes from its commanding light. Dimly she was aware that the people about her had fallen totally still, standing ramrod straight. The girl however felt only light-headed, weak and tired, as if a heavy blanket were pushing her down to rest. As the feeing grew, the magician raised the staff in his other hand aloft, and it seemed to collect some of the energy being generated in this bizarre display. "Witness the power of this magical season! Welcome… **to the Spirit of Christmas**!"

Whatever Amazo was doing reached a crescendo, and the swirling rush of invisible power blew the audience from their feet. A few shocked cries from outside the plaza were quickly silenced, but Saten could barely register them. She lay on her side, on the verge of sleep despite the cold of the floor. She was monumentally tired, as if she been awake for days. Her mind was swimming, burdened with strange colour images and joyous feelings that didn't quite coalesce into something understandable. With a massive force of effort she tilted her head and pried open her eyes, fear fighting against alien emotions.

All around her, most of the crowd were picking themselves up. Yet not one stopped to assist the fallen girl or the few others who did not rise. Instead they shuffled towards Amazo, whose gentle smile seemed a mockery of the situation. And yet he continued.

"Please, my friends, my helpers… we must spread this wonderful Spirit of Christmas! You, you and you: take these and provide one each to those lying prone. It will give them the will and magical spirit to assist us! Everyone else, stand back, as I conjure up the tools of our great task!" He turned around from the table behind him and faced away from Saten, colours swirling around him. Within moments, a great mound of strange materials appeared before him, but the girl was unable to appreciate the spectacle. Barely conscious, she felt more than saw someone kneeling next to her. A young woman laid a hand one her arm, soothingly.

"…here… this will… help Christmas…" In unsteady hands the woman held a small sweet, and Saten could only watch in muddled horror as it was fed into her slack mouth. It sat on her tongue for a moment, sickly sweet, until it slid down, down, and down…

!~~~~~~~~!

9:41 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, Central Plaza

Upon hearing the Magician's challenge, the two teens acted as one. Will's certain and path clear, they took the only possible option left to them. As those who had to succeed for the sake of their dreams and the dreams of others, they made their choice. Shouting out in brave defiance, the youths synchronized their response perfectly:

 **"...RUUUUUN!** "

That shouted word preceded Touma and Mikoto's frantic escape back down the hallway they had come from, away the creeping multitudes they could not bring themselves to hurt. Had either been alone and at full strength, neither would have hesitated in at least trying to stop their foes on the spot. As it was, it would have been insanity, given they knew next to nothing about what was happening. Both were frustrated by their impotency, but for different reasons.

"AGH! I **HATE** running away! This is so **ANNOYING**!" _An-and… I can't help but realize… Am I j-ust… s-slowing him down….?_ Something sharp and cold stabbed at her heart, but it was too hard to think about for now, so she pushed it away.

Though he wasn't as vocal about his feeling, Touma couldn't help but match her spoken sentiment. "We've got to regroup! We'll be back!" _And maybe find out what is even going on! This is weird even for magic…_ "And anyway, what were you going to do, fire a **railgun**? What is wrong with you, Yo-" She tried to cut off his ciriticism, feeling extremely small and guilty even as she tried to defend herself.

"I-I know it was overkill, but I was just so MAD-" He however ignored her.

"-u're in no condition to be using that kind of power, what if… Hey, what is it? You just got quiet all of sudden?"

"…Uhm. Mmm. N-nothing, just run faster!"

"...Ah, never mind, you're right! Let's just go!"

Despite a speedy retreat from their slow moving enemies, they were not out of danger. It seemed that the magician's reach already extended far into the mall, for dozens of guests were waiting from them. No matter how well the boy dodged their reaching hands, there were just too many and he was quickly growing tired. Eventually, the lucky one in fifty or a hundred, a middle-aged man, grasped hold of a pant leg, threatening to slow him down just long enough to be overrun by the rest. As Touma resigned himself to holding his ground and starting to fight, Mikoto slapped his hand away from her head.

A quick flash of light and soft sizzling sounds drove the assailant temporarily to his knees. Though more approached Touma used the time bought to break free and continue down the hall, but not before Mikoto grasped his wrist and brought Imagine Breaker once again to her head, exhaling deeply. They made a mad dash for the Dianoid's main entrance, but their hopes of a quick escape to regroup were foiled.

A solid wall of shoppers was pressed up against the windows, pulling them shut from the inside. "W-what? How many people have they gotten already!?" Mikoto's disbelief grew by the minute, as there was hardly even space to see outdoors. What was visible were flashing lights, implying anti-skill or some other force was laying siege to the mall. However, they were unable to enter, likely for fear of harming the people in the doorway. A few armed guards stood a few feet back, turning now at the sound of the student's hurried approach. One began to radio a question to someone, but the Touma wasn't about to wait for a response.

"Still too many! We need another way!"

"Stairs, over there! Hurry it **up**! They're pulling out weapons!" Low calibre rounds chased them sporadically, but they were already well out of effective range. One guard, clearly a leader, commanded a ceasefire. It soon became clear why.

From down the hall, a moving wall of shoppers was lurching towards the students, trying to cut them off before they reached the stairs. _Damn, they have a head start! We're not going to_ \- His worries were cut short by Mikoto once again removing his hand. Three quick bursts of power arced across the room, striking a number of leading guests. They stumbled and fell, soon creating a massive, squirming human pile-up, just before the stairs.

"Heh…g-got em…" _…I can still do something… gotta t-t-try…_ Clearly woozy, the girl clung tightly to her steed, now digging the spurs in. "H-hurry, idiot! Before they get up!" Despite his concern, Touma did so, dashing up to the second floor.

The path ahead was temporarily clear, but sounds of footsteps were audible both from below and somewhere above them. The stairs they were on, which continued up to the third floor, suddenly swamped with bodies stumbling down. "Damn it, they're just too many; they're cutting us off! We need to get out of here, but how!?" Despite his indecision, Touma had already started along the 2nd floors circular hallway, but was interrupted by the girl he carried.

"Hey! I've been thinking…"

"Yeah?"

"Remember how Amazo was up on the 5th floor? Back in the Central area. Do you think that maybe he had to be?"

"What… do you think he's working his way up? Through the **entire** Dianoid!? That's awful!" _If so, that's really bad! How many shoppers, not to mention the employees, are in here tonight? Thousands!? Damn it, this is just as bad as the_ _ **last**_ _time I was here…_ His worries were killed by the surprising smugness in Mikoto's response.

"No, that's perfect! Look, if he's only that high, then we can just go up! This is a 70 story building, remember? There will be tons of people way up high, still just fine! We can regroup, and plan out how to beat these clowns!"

"Yeah, but… one problem. I can't climb that many stairs. I mean, you're light and all but-" His concern was rewarded with a flick on the nose, momentarily distracting him.

"Dumbass! You keep forgetting I'm not just a burden here! HEY!" She jammed her knees hard to break the boy's forward momentum, while he skidded to an awkward stop. "There! Go back to that service elevator!"

They had jogged nearly half the way around the Dianoid's 2nd floor perimeter and returned to the large elevator the girl had seen earlier. "But, it must be locked down right now; only the emergency light is on!"

"Yeah, but I can quickly hack it back to normal. Hang on… I might need to do this in short bursts…" While she worked with her handheld computer, alternating the position of Imagine Breaker on her head every few seconds, Touma looked around anxiously. Soon his fears were realized, and he tapped her head with gently shaking hand.

"H-hey, you might want to hurry, we've got company!" From both sides of the large hallway and both floors above and below, the creeping mass had caught up to him and Mikoto. They were totally surrounded, and the ocean of bodies that was rising threatened to engulf everything in sight. Their enemies' eager hands clenched open and shut as if they were in jars of molasses, stretched forward in their inexorable quest to stop the teens.

"Don't… rush me…" The girl's movements were becoming increasingly slow as well. The repeated usage of her powers without break in these conditions was becoming a drain, and Touma realized he would have to find some way to stall their opponents. He shifted the weight he carried, and moved his left hand, when suddenly-

-the girl on his back stiffened like steel. Knees clamped to his side in a vice-grip so hard he nearly fell down. As it was, Imagine Breaker slipped from her head, and he almost dropped the girl. All of that came secondary, however, to his horrified realization of what he had just done. He had before been leaning far enough forward that most of the Mikoto's weight fell onto his shoulders: his left hand could support her easily by her leg right just above the knee. While they waited, though, he had straightened up for a moment to re-balance his load. She had shifted backwards, and so his hand slid back, up along her thigh, until without realizing his had placed it somewhere very troublesome indeed. The blood drained from his face, which he slowly turned towards her to see just how bad the damage was. He found, to his chagrin, that it was bad.

Mikoto's scream of panicked surprise was accompanied with a burst of power so potent it blew out the lights for the entire floor. The alarms on every shop within sight kicked into high gear before immediately frying, metal shutters slamming down in an incredible racket. Amazingly Touma was unaffected, but the possessed customers were not so lucky. Having closed the distance to 5 feet, the first fifteen deep in every direction were blown backwards, limbs flailing. They collapsed into those behind them like rag-dolls, in turn causing more chaos while the Domino effect played out. Fanning out in a dramatic fashion, fully half the crowd was incapacitated and left groaning in the dark, while the rest were too confused to react to their sudden blindness.

The silence that followed was broken by the ding of an elevator. Its doors opened behind Touma and Mikoto with a sharp flash of light, the only illumination left in the area. The boy stepped through with extreme prejudice, leaning towards the panel of buttons with trepidation. The girl on his back stiffly jammed her finger onto the floor selector for number 65, the highest listed. The doors slid shut with another ding, and the lift swiftly ascended. They stood in silence as the floor count climbed. At the double digits, Touma steadied himself with a deep breath and began to speak.

"…Look, I'm **really** s-"

" **N-n-no words. Not. One**."

"Okay! …AGH! Ahhh-hah…"

"…Idiot. And… I-Idiot?"

"…?"

"M-m-m-m…" A deep breath, while her grip tightened once again. "M-m-m… **Move** the h- **hand**."

"…!"

!~~~~~~~~~!

Their uncomfortable ride was cut short just past the halfway point. For some reason, at floor 37 the lift came to a sudden, juddering halt. Bemused, Touma watched as Mikoto pressed the highest button again, then a few others. None worked, and in seconds she removed his hand to try to restart their journey with her device. After a few moments, she limped back in a sulk.

"…I-it's no good. I can't restart it."

"…?"

"…Its computer is saying that there is a manual fault somewhere in the system. A door has been jammed open on a different floor, so for safety reasons it's staying put."

"..." A brief pause. "…?"

"…If I was at full capacity, I could just force the electrical motors into action, but right now it's impossible."

"...GAH!" Touma's vow of silence was broken by another hearty poke in the ribs. Though the girl on his back was tired, she still had some fight in her.

"And you can t-talk now, you Idiot!"

"A-Eh-heheh… O-okay. So… I guess this is our stop, then?" He hit the emergency button on the door, which thankfully forced itself open. They had stopped a foot above the waiting floor, so it was just a small step down to reach the proper height.

Unlike on the lower levels, the halls were completely deserted: Touma almost felt like he was breaking and entering in some after-hours heist. Though the lights remained on, no one stirred, silence reigning.

"Everyone else must be farther below or much further upstairs … I guess it makes no sense to stay low. Now what do we do, I wonder…" The boy's reverie was broken by the sound of clinking china ware. He quickly turned to see a surprised young man, in the process of sneaking away from Mikoto and Touma. He seemed maybe a little older than Touma, but certainly looked larger. He was broad in the shoulder, his wide face framed by surprisingly long black hair. They all faced each other for a few tense moments before relief broke out on the new-comer's face.

"Oh thank goodness, you're normal! But why are you down this far?"

"Down? We just came from lower! We're still trying to get up!"

"Oh! Wow, I can't believe you lasted that long down there..." The young man shook his head in disbelief before continuing. "Look, you've got to keep going up, at least until the authorities gets here, or you'll be brainwashed too!"

"I know, but the elevators are dead. Where're the nearest stairs?" Following his gesture, Touma nodded thanks, but halted before turning. "Hey, why are you down this far then?"

"Ah, well. My little brother and I got separated. When I realized he was nowhere in the few highest floors, I came back down to search. I've gotten this far, but then I heard the elevator and I hid…"

"Your brother? That's terrible! Maybe I can-"

"Hide? Why hide? Are they already up this high?" Mikoto's questions derailed her steed's conversation for a second, but the older boy quickly understood. Though at first, he glanced at her quizzically, as if trying to remember something.

"Have we… Never mind. Anyway, if you didn't see them already, some of the security guards are also terrorists. We don't know what they want, but they've patrolled a few times up here and higher, capturing anyone they can. As long as there are enough people around they don't approach us, but it's not safe at all alone unless you're well hidden." While the girl nodded understanding, Touma continued on his previous trajectory.

"Hey, maybe I can-"

"What, help?" Touma's counterpart widened his eyes in surprise at the suggestion. "You two've got your own problems to deal with, don't you?" He pointed at the girl on his back, who despite being awake was clearly unable to move on her own. Though she fumed visibly at the assumption of her helplessness, she stayed silent. "Look, I've got this. You get up as high as you can, then find a store to hide in or something. You look even more exhausted than I feel!" His assessment of Touma was true: the legs under him were starting to cry out for rest. Understanding the reality of the situation, the spiky haired boy could only nod slowly.

"…Okay. But I promise you, I've got a way to stop all this. Your brother and everyone else will be okay."

"R-really? You can…? Well, I'll try my best first, but if not… I'm holding you to that." With that succinct goodbye, the unknown boy darted down to the next floor. Kindred spirits, each had something to protect; that was all that needed to be said between them.

Smiling, Touma hoped he might get the chance to meet the guy later on better terms. _And people like him are the reason this spell is so wrong: no one should have to be forced into this kind of fear over their loved ones!_

"Well? You heard him. How far can you still go?" _What does he_ _ **mean, 'I've'**_ _got a way… Isn't that… 'we've'…?_ Mikoto's reserves were finally beginning to run dry, and though she focused grimly on clinging to his back she remained distracted by self-doubt. Though surprised at her subdued demeanour, Touma kept his concern hidden under a mask of enthusiasm..

"Far enough! Let's just go until we see a likely spot."

They continued to climb, this time pausing to circle the floor they were on. Not a single soul remained, likely because there were no real places to hide or barricade. While they searched, Mikoto thumbed on her phone, only to realize she had managed to fry it completely earlier. She couldn't even muster up the annoyance to tease Touma about paying for it. _Oh, I can't say that to him, he'll take it seriously. If he ever could afford one anyway, it'd take months of saving… I won't do that to him, even if he is an idiot… Damn it, it's even his_ _ **fault**_ _this time, and I still don't want to get mad. What a pain. This day, I swear... First I'm u-u-u-usele… less than useful, and now this…_

For a time their search remained fruitless: the 37th floor specialized in kitchenware, while the 38th held mainly large appliances. It was not until the 39th that something finally caught Mikoto's eye.

"Hey… hey… **hey.** " It took another squeeze of her knees to still the boy's ambling. "Look to your right!" He did so, and saw a large showcase room full of model bathrooms. They ranged from the tastefully modest to the downright extravagant, dozens of options available. Walls, panelling, and everything else were completely built, leaving little shack-like stalls set up in rows. "Let's get into one of those."

"Ah…? Yeah. Good idea." Touma was surprised at how sluggishly his body responded: now that rest beckoned his reserves tried to fail him. He stumbled his way into the store, glancing at several options before settling on a display whose door was a thick hardwood, inlaid with gleaming silver. Mikoto pushed down its handle and swung it open as they stepped inside.

With the door closed, the model bathroom was only dimly lit. None of the internal light fixtures were powered on, so only light stealing though cracks and seams in the wall remained. Figuring their hiding place would be ruined if turned on the lights the two students resigned themselves to darkness. Pulling the many fluffy white towels from their holder, Mikoto quickly laid out a simple cushion for them to sit on, leaning the last against the side of the wall in a make shift couch. Touma gently set her down, hand never leaving her head, while he awkwardly slid into position next to her. It was much like trying to disarm a bomb or clean a lawnmower's blade while having one hand glued to the on-switch; if he wasn't sweating much from his exertion before that he certainly was now from the tension. He eventually ended up with an arm behind her back, Imagine Breaker caressing the girl at an awkward arms-length. Though he blushed slightly and feared an angry retort, her response was subdued.

"…Why this one?" It took him a second to realize she meant the bathroom, and at that he laughed.

"Ahah… Well, I figure the lock is best on the classiest one. …Besides, I've always wanted to see a golden toilet."

"…Idiot." Mikoto's chuckles betrayed her, and they sat together in the near darkness, resting.

For a moment.

"Now why don't you tell me about your adventures and Magic, hmm? …We've got time."

"…Such misfortune."

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] By fielding, we mean completely lying.

[2] Those wondering why she couldn't find Mikoto would have a point: it wasn't included in the start of chapter 9, but before simply waiting by the front doors the level 5 basically did laps of the first floor for a good few minutes. You know. Stress relief. Plus if she somehow found Touma, she'd have a running start on attacking him. Saten just didn't wait long enough for her to complete a loop before getting lost in the show.


	15. Part 1: Interlude 3

**Hey all! It's that time again: But there's a slight twist. I had originally intended to have the interludes be a story within a story, having no bearing on the main plot. However, a number of ideas and the consequences of earlier choices that I didn't foresee means they'll end up being surprisingly important. Either way, I hope you can enjoy!**

 **So, funny story! I never looked at the character art from NT 12, the one with St. Germain. Well! Apparently my villains somehow parallel that design (both male and female), with enough differences (age, character, etc) that it's only slightly awkward. Whoops! Caught this one myself, but at least it's not a deadly mistake. Still, I have to wonder if I just didn't remember seeing that, or if I really stumbled into this oddly similar character design choice.**

 **NOTE: this interlude takes place a little earlier than last time the last one, about an hour. It takes place right after the spell goes off. That might be clear enough from the context of their conversation, but I decided there's no reason to not be clear. If I ever write another story, I'll never be so complicated about the timing of things: straight and consecutive chronology is where it's at!**

 **Interlude 3:**

Flashback: About an hour, to 9:23 P.M. December 23rd: 177th Judgement Branch Office, Academy City

Uiharu Kazari sipped the last of her tea in satisfaction, having just entered her third batch of reports for the evening. Things seemed to be winding down, and the night had only been marginally busier than the rest of the year. Even though curfew was extended in most schools and many stores remained open, the sheer lack of bodies left in Academy city for the holidays meant that there were simply fewer people out and about so late. Fewer people meant fewer calls, and even if there were fewer agents to deal with them it was still a net positive in the eyes of the law. Best yet, their shift was scheduled to end before 10 p.m., which was good considering how antsy her friend sounded all night long when reporting in. [1] She smiled and wondered when the teleporter was going to return, since the last of her rounds must nearly be over. Unless, of course, she had been distracted by something…

Sighing, the blossom-haired girl removed her headset and began idling surfing the various communications systems which she had access to. Some were standard Judgement or civilian networks, while other involved somewhat dubious entry into those of Anti-skill or other private and borderline illicit telecommunications distributers. Uiharu didn't once consider her using those tools inappropriate, and would have been confused if questioned. They were just there, wide open to help protect the city: what else mattered? The again, it didn't seem likely to her that anyone would notice she was doing it anyway. So she browsed, and picked up on the hidden pulse of the city as few else could have matched.

What she noticed was a rather odd pattern. Things were normal all day, albeit with significantly more chatter about the season, the weather, and how quiet the streets were. However, a random thread kept popping up in common among seemingly unconnected stories in the last quarter hour, which the girl isolated after a few minutes searching. It seems that a surprising number of people were posting about strange conversations they were having with their friends over text message: some even claimed that their targets were refusing to activate voice chat when prompted. Yet no one reported there being arguments involved or even anger. The person on the other end always seemed content, leaving their respondent more confused than anything else. _How strange. This seems almost like one of Saten-san's mysteries. But still, people are lodging concerns and it seems to be ongoing, so I guess I should…_ Idly puzzled, Uiharu automatically began trying to piece together the clues when her partner teleported into the room's space behind her.

"AGH! Why. Isn't. She. TELLING ME ANYTHING!" Throwing her phone onto the office's couch, Shirai Kuroko fell down in a funk beside it. " **This** is precisely why I had to go myself; it's been nearly 15 **whole minutes now**! What is Saten-san **hiding**?" Pulling her hair, the teleporter buried her face into the cushions dramatically while Uiharu turned in her seat.

"A-ah, Shirai-san, how was the patrol? You stopped checking in a while ago, so I assumed it was all quiet."

"Yes, yes. There was little going on. A few punks were skulking around, but I lectured them back to their quarters." Muffled slightly by the pillow, the girl now sat up and lay listlessly on couch. "But that doesn't matter. Saten-san seems to have betrayed me. Who KNOWS what could be happening to my precious Onee-Sama…"

"W-what? But, she's in the Dianoid feeding you- I-I mean, keeping tabs on Misaka-san, right? So, what's wrong?"

"Just look. Start at 9:20." With a despondent sigh, Kuroko reached for her phone and teleported it to the hands of her co-worker. Looking down, Uiharu quickly scrolled through the message history, keeping in mind her own secret messages with their shared friend.

 _I thought she planned to keep watching until Misaka-san left… so what…Hmm?_ The messages seemed normal, until about 9:20, when Shirai prompting read as follows:

-You may be busy but any news? Its past time remember the schedule?-

Her response was certainly out of the ordinary. _Normally Saten-san responds super-fast when texting, but this was only sent at 9:23..._ But that wasn't the strangest part of their friend's reply:

-Everything okay no need to worry-

"That… that does seem oddly blunt for her…" Uiharu was starting to get a bad feeling, but her colleague was too disgruntled to notice.

"Keep going." From the couch, Sharai waved her arm lazily. "It gets worse." Nodding, Uiharu continued.

-Ah Saten-san we agreed specifics. Is she nearby? Did you lose her?"

-Everything okay no need to worry-

"…What? Is that all she responded with, Shirai-san?"

"Yes. 2 more times, as you can see. And then she just stopped! Did she get tired of even copying the message over!? Oh, it's hopeless…" Flopping about, the girl rolled half onto the floor, face again buried in the couch, rattling off the conspiracy theory that had made her so depressed. "She's hiding something, I know it, and she's in cahoots with Onee-sama about it, she must be…but why… but why… **why…** **WHY!?** " With an incredible flurry of motion Shiara jumped to her feet, internal switch flicked to raging fury in an instant. "WHY DOES MY ONEE-SAMA DISTRUST ME SO MUCH!? WHO TURNED HER AGAINST ME!? I will **FIND** them and **DESTROY** -"

"Wait, shirai-san! Wait! I think this is something else!"

"What **else** could it **be**!?"

"I-I've been getting these strange reports… This sounds similar! Agh! L-look, come over and see!" Momentarily distracted from her angst by Uiharu's obvious worry, Shirai crossed the short distance to peer over her friend's shoulder.

"…So these people are all saying the same thing? But… why? What is happening?"

"I've spent a few minutes looking into it now. There's another common thread in most postings: it seems each person sending these bizarre response messages-"

"-Is at the Dianoid…? Really…" _What's going on over there, I wonder...A-ah! Wait!_

"Yes! And now we've got confirmation: there are hundreds of people texting out of that mall! These ones seem to say there's some sort of attack ongoing! I'll let Anti-Skill know, but that's really all we can... U-uh... S-Siarai-san, what's with that look?" A dark and determined grin marred the teleporter's face, as she dropped into a battle stance. The excuse she had been praying for had finally arrived. With a sudden motion she took back her phone. "N-now, now, don't be…" With a pop, it was too late. "Well. Alright then, I guess. Heh…" Shaking her head ruefully, Uiharu turned back to her computer and replaced the headset she had removed only minutes before. It was going to be a long night.

!~~~~~~~~!

9:31 P.M., December 23rd: The streets of Academy City, a short way from the Seventh Mist Shopping Centre

The snow from earlier in the day had let up, leaving behind only brooding clouds. Even as they drifted they glowed in the night sky, reflecting orange and yellow lights from the vibrant city below. Long after the sun had set many youth were still out and about. Most were innocent and happy students, just enjoying the surprising warmth of the evening. Some were petty thugs and vandals, seeking an easy mark. There were even fewer judgement agents on the prowl, keeping the peace as best they could. [2] And there was one boy who was neither innocent nor happy, and not on either side of the law.

Ignoring those around him, Accelerator limped along the long and wide sidewalk. The few cars that drove by went slowly, taking care of the slippery ground cover which made the roads slick. Stumbling occasionally the boy ignored the hazard, far too preoccupied with his own thoughts to care about slush.

What did distract him was the site of sight of a young couple romantically embraced on the street corner across from the lights ahead of him. Scowling, he turned a sharp right, once again deviating from his planned route home to avoid something that annoyed him. Many a walk had been extended to suit his peculiar tastes, but Accelerator would neither admit to it nor have it any other way.

Crossing the street, he lurched up onto the curb only to come next to a tall girl in the front of a small gift stand. She was talking animatedly to the older woman running the shop, but when Accelerator started to tune them out while passing certain phrases captured his attention.

"…All out? Oh… I guess I need to come up with another idea for her, huh?"

"Would you like some help? Shopping for younger girls can be so hard, they have such varied tastes. I've got these, though, so maybe…?"

Accelerator had already walked far enough away for their voices to be lost in the susurrus of cars gently rolling past. Glancing both ways, he turned around and sidled back a few feet the way he came, feigning interest in the closed story-front next to the stand. The women were huddled over the counter, murmuring to each while leaning over some object of interest, making it difficult for the white haired boy to listen in subtly. Resolving himself to eavesdrop closer, he moved a few more steps-

-only to collide with something moving at moderate speed. Taking a tumble, the esper fell to the ground, cane landing just within reach. His immediate snarled response was cut off by a jumble of bags and boxes, some carefully wrapped and packaged, landing indelicately on top of him. Their owner had entered a minor catastrophe himself, arms flailing to recover the gifts that had obstructed his vision before the collision.

"AH! Sorry! Whoa, AH AH AH! No! Not the-"

The muffled sound of glass breaking inside a bag was plainly heard.

"-…picture frame... That was so hard to find, too!"

Accelerator began pushing the mass of presents off his body, struggling for breath under their unexpected weight, but before he could reach for the switch on his neck a helping hand began lightening the load. With most of the offending items soon cleared, the same hand reach down and gripped the esper's forearm, exerting steady pressure which inexorably began pulling him up. A blonde haired head poked into view through a heavy coat's hood, peering over at the fallen boy in concern.

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bury you like that. I just didn't see you… you… y-you? **YOU!?** " Hamazura Shiage was utterly aghast that he had managed to knock the No. 1 esper in Academy City to the snow. He had beaten a level 5 before, but Accelerator occupied a whole different level of terrifying violence. And yet, there was no obvious way out of this particular scenario. Shaking, he met Accelerator's cold eyes, which gradually narrowed. Finally, Academy City's strongest spoke.

"Finish getting me up, dip~~~~. Or **I'll** bury **you**."

!~~~~~~~~!

"Hehehe… I think you got it all off."

"Shut up, you blind ass. You can't tell, it's all white." Despite this criticism, Accelerator stopped clearing invisible snow from his head.

"Uhh… I guess so! Eheh… W-well, sorry again! H-have a Happy Ho-H-heh!?" The hand that gripped Hamazura's hood threw him off balance, halting his rapidly attempted escape. The lump growing in the level 0's stomach dropped, and for a second time the young man stood frozen in the cool night.

"You're not going anywhere. Tell me what all this crap is about." Accelerator gestured to the numerous bags of gifts in his captive's arms, a number of which had opened enough to reveal their contents. One showed a collection of DVDs, with appallingly poor cover art and promises of extended editions and cut content. Another contained an extremely comprehensive strategy guide to a popular video game. While a third contained… "… Is that a bunny suit? Really." [3]

"PLEASE DON'T LOOK AT THAT ONE!" Struggling to cover up the offending item, Hamazura quickly remembered who he was talking to. "A-ahem, well… Uh, well, it's my Christmas shopping! You know, gifts and stuff for my teammates. Y-you don't think I'd buy female clothing for myself, do you? AHAHAH-"

"Stuff it. I don't care what you got." Taking a deep breath, Accelerator continued to interrogate his target. "Tell me where you got these from."

"O-oh. Uhm, most of it was at the Dianoid. You know, that really nice department store? Made of pure carbon, super ritzy? They've got some great sales going on-"

"Never heard of it. Lead me there."

"Well, it's just off the… W-wait, **lead**? Now? B-but, my gifts-"

"I'll call someone to drop them off somewhere for you. You need to replace that picture frame anyway, so just lead the way before I make you. Or did you already forget what happened…? … I could remind you…" Even as he dialled the phone retrieved from his pocket, Accelerator radiated an aura of menace. Hamazura was far too experienced with high level threats to ignore the surest route to survival.

"NO NO, you're **absolutely** right! On **all** counts!" Regaining his grip on his bags, the terrified young man struck a determined pose. "O-okay! Follow me: let Hamazura Shiage lead the way!" When he found himself unable to move towards their destination, he turned a hesitant shoulder back towards his captor. The same hand that stopped him at first had not let go, but now Accelerator's face was pure disgusted frustration. It wasn't that Hamazura was at particular fault for his mistake, but rather that the level 5 was unused to actually relying on someone as pathetic as the blonde-hair young man.

"This way first, dumb-ass. Someone will meet us with a car by that hotel over there in 15 minutes." Closing his phone with a click, Accelerator pocketed the device and loosened his grip. Struggling with the inertia of his bags, Hamazura steadied himself before catching up to his crippled associate. After a minute of silence, he dared to make a suggestion.

"S-say, as long as you can just call up someone to drop off my gifts, can they also bring us to the Dianoid? It's a long way to wa-"

"Shut up."

"Yup, okay!"

Another thirty seconds passed.

"I'm tired of walking out here. We'll take the underground."

"Yup, okay!" [4]

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] Something that always confused me about Judgement officers are the hours they keep. I mean, it's implied that work takes up a lot of Uiharu's and Shirai's time, but they seem to be fairly sporadic when it comes to a schedule. I assume for this story that late at night, it's all Anti-skill, while during the day different Judgement offices cover different shifts with Anti-Skill in reserve, so that no one group is constantly on at the same time to interfere with school too much. If there is specific info on how this works, let me know!

[2] With one in particular about to raise a whole lot of Hell instead.

[3] Kudos to anyone who gets why the middle present is what it is. It was literally the best thing I could think of for Mugino, because her character as of now oscillates between "team-killing-psycho-mutant" and "I'm-far-too-classy-to-admit-I-care-about-anything-you-peons". There IS a reason, but I'll admit it's a massive stretch. (Again, if you've got something better that I missed, I'll update and credit. I'd rather this be the best it could be: my pride can handle it.)

[4] Sharp readers might note that technically Hamazura has access to his own subordinates through his membership in Item, who could ferry him about, or that he could just steal a car. But remember that's he's likely shopping in secret, so using those means might be a bit obvious. Plus, he's trying to avoid being a criminal as much as possible these days. Man, is he outta luck. By the way, did anyone expect he'd make an appearance? I didn't, so if I somehow foreshadowed this before Chapter 8 or so I'm a secret genius.


	16. Part 1: Chapter 13

**Hello Friday people! Welcome back. If you're reading this after Friday, you're appreciated no less, but that's just how I phrase these intros.**

 **SUPER IMPORTANT MAJOR NOTE:**

 **If you have NOT been reading the Interludes, but still want to enjoy the story fully, PLEASEcheck them out! They will soon be tying in directly to the main plot. Things might not make much sense in later chapters unless you read them at least quickly.**

 **Sorry about that, but I noticed the readership numbers were noticeably lower for those than others. I understand the confusion, or if people simply didn't care about that side plot. At the time, I didn't realize it would become important.**

 **Lastly, this is the final chapter with major flashbacks (I think). I wrote it like to balance out the chapter lengths some and reveal information at specific points. Sorry again if it is awkward. Note that this is all before the end of Chapter 12: think of it as a recap of events which the MC's weren't privy to.**

 **Chapter 13**

Flashback: 9:06 P.M, The Dianoid Shopping Centre, Central Plaza: Before the Spirit of Christmas is cast

Not for the first time, Joy Sergeant wondered if this job was worth it.

No question, the pay was great. Exorbitant, even. The 15% up front was enough to meet the needs of her and her crew for months, though a large portion of that had gone to finding the extra bodies needed for this massive of an operation. Despite its scale, the plan as far as she knew it was ludicrously simple, provided it worked like the "magicians" described.

That was the sticking point for Sergeant, who was almost lost in thought as she observed her guards setting up for the signing event. She still harboured serious doubts about that pair of stage magicians, wielding sophisticated enough technology to control people's minds. _THAT evening was "magic" all right... in a very unpleasant way..._ She repressed a feeling of unease as she recalled the demonstration she had seen for the first time not a week before.

The warehouse had been of her choosing, and the magician appeared alone. She had had all the extra men she wanted protecting her, many fanned out around her while others waited in the upper floors, guns at the ready. And yet the one who had approached Sergeant, outrageously calling himself "The Amazing Amazo" and dressed in a simple old suit, was unperturbed. All politeness and smiles, he had acquiesced immediately when she demanded proof that his proposed plan was possible…

!~~~~~~~~!

"Of course, my dear. I would not expect you believe in my claims without having seen them in action first…" Sergeant nodded curtly, waiting to see if he was going to bring out some sort of ray gun or helmet. Those would have lined up with her expectations of a mad scientist controlling the actions of a mall-full of people. Instead with a snap a small bag appeared in his palm, filled with colourful little ovals wrapped in shinning plastic.

"…Is that candy? So it's some sort of chemical." _That might make sense, but it can't be the whole process… nothing chemically based can compel people, though it might make them more suggestible._ Her thoughts proved prophetic, for the man nodded in turn.

"It is indeed candy, though this is only stage one. I assure you, these are harmless to any and all. Watch." He popped one in his mouth, only to pull a grimace. "Ugh. Cherry." He tossed the bag to Sergeant, whose eyebrow raised. "Have at least one of your people take one now. As I said, there is no harm, and no lasting effect with this or the rest of the process. Not you: I need you to wear this instead." He had produced another bag through sleight of hand, this time pouring out two small pendants into his hand. He tossed those as well to the woman before him. "Put this on, and hold onto the other. Yes, it's a necklace."

Sergeant looked down at her new jewellery. _Not really my style_. It was small, black and hard, seemingly without lustre at all. It sat there inert like a lump of charcoal, rounded out and smoothed. Again she stared blankly at Amazo, who watched as a willing volunteer took a candy from the bag being tossed around.

"…So, 5% bonus, right?"

"If you're going to eat it Miller, just eat it."

"Y-yes, sir." The deed done, the man did his best to not look nervous.

"Very good. Thank you, Mr. Miller. Now, I will begin." He clutched his hand to his chest, but paused for a moment. "You have been informed about what to expect, yes?"

"Not how. But yes. Just do it: we're ready." Though Sergeant sincerely doubted the extent of manipulation possible, a small corner of her mind could not rid itself of expectant tension. There was something in the man's stance, his casual confidence that inspired a ludicrous faith in his claims. Perhaps it was the cut of his clothing, or just his eloquent mannerisms, but she began to believe despite her hard headed cynicism that this mysterious stunt might actually work.

"All right then…" The magician's soft voice carried in the stillness of the depot. Soon it was joined, echoing, by the rhythmic pulses of light that escaped from the cross he covered on his chest. "… I suppose it's time to bear witness… to the Spirit of Christmas."

For a brief moment, Sergeant felt the weight of the air on her shoulders triple, then triple again while an intense drowsiness washed over. It nearly bowed her low, when it suddenly abated. She glanced around in confusion, and despite her advance notice she was shocked to see her whole squad on the floor, twitching sporadically. Those in the balcony were unaffected, but Miller in particular had a unique response.

Instead of falling like the rest, he stiffened. Sergeant watched his jaw go slack before it tightened into a goofy grin. Eyes drooping, he hunched forwards and began to sway gently back and forth, babbling some nonsense just barely below the cusp of audibility. Skepticism blown away by the results before her, the ex-soldier quickly scanned the room looking for any obvious signs of technology. But there was nothing: she only hoped her men stationed above would have more to say when debriefed later. Catching her eye, Amazo spoke again, eyes lit up by his brilliant smile of satisfaction.

"There. Now, place the other necklace I gave you on the neck of Mr. Miller. You'll find it snaps him right out of his condition." Sure enough, her subordinate's eyes popped awake, and he stood stiffly to attention from the drooping slouch he had sunk into. At his C.O.'s worried look, he nodded assurances.

"T-that was ~~~~ing odd, Sir. But, I'm fine." As he did, Amazo stopped whatever was triggering the effect, and her troops quickly regained their feet. Though embarrassed, they just seemed relieved to be mobile after such a strange experience.

"There. So. You see now?" Amazo's breath was borderline ragged from an invisible exertion, but he recovered quickly. Grinning, he gestured around him. "In this space and under these conditions, it is impossible to continue my work for long. However, it is far easier to convince people of illusions with the proper preparations and scenery. With the help of your crew, the Dianoid should make a perfect stage for the mass application of the Spirit of Christmas."

"But… how?"

"Now now, Miss Sergeant. You know the particulars of our arrangement. Besides… a Magician never reveals his secrets."

!~~~~~~~~!

9:19 P.M, The Dianoid Shopping Centre, a sealed security room

"Whoa! Hey… Hey, do you see this? Does that not seem weird to you?"

"What, weirder than your obsession with-"

"I'm **serious**! Get over here and take a look."

"What? …Hmm. That's just the autograph signing, right? With that magician fellow? I guess he's doing another trick...?"

"Yeah, but… why are people… Look, some are just lying there! We need to get some first aid teams to respond, this can't be part of the act!"

"My god, you're right! There are even some of our people down! Get someone on the line, anyone, we need an explanation here!"

"I'm not getting a response, but it looks like some of the new hires are okay… **What**? They're just jogging away!?"

"… No, only some are! They're checking on our people first, I guess… I can see Hiroko is down, plus a few others… HOLD ON!"

"WHAT!? WHERE DID THEY GET SUB-MACHINE GUNS!?"

"That new security firm, it was a cover! They've turned on us! This's some kind of terrorist attack!"

"B-but then why is there a mob of shoppers forming!? They've just started storming down the halls! Agh, it makes no sense, it's just chaos down there! None of my people are responding, did they really get them all!? Are they **ALL** terrorists!?"

"This is out of control! Lock down the lifts and escalators, we've got to protect Upper Management! Activate their secure line, and then get Anti-"

He couldn't finish his sentence, since the reinforced door behind them blew off its hinges. A choking gas filled the room, and though each of the guards reached for their own holsters they were immediately stunned in submission. Neither had time to react, and neither felt the candies being roughly dropped into their mouths before they were dragged bodily from their posts.

!~~~~~~~~!

9:42 P.M, The Dianoid Shopping Centre, Secondary Entrance, Main floor

"…We knew they'd catch on quick, but this is ridiculous. Did they all just happen to be in the area?" Sergeant's dark ruminations were directed at the second set of Anti-Skill vehicles that had just pulled up in front of the north-west entrance. For now the troops merely made their presence known, crouched behind a wall of security bots, but it wouldn't be long until a dialogue or attack was attempted.

"It doesn't matter, right boss? I mean, we've got a foolproof barrier to them messing this up." The woman Sergeant was checking on gestured to the masses behind her, pressed up against the windowed doors and begging Anti-Skill not to come in. Those shoppers had been instructed by the Magicians to discourage and if needed physically prevent any access to or exit from the Dianoid. Individually they would have been useless, but with over 100 spread out along 10 sets of doors they formed an impassable writhing wall. The effect was unnerving, but her crew had gotten used to their new tools quickly: both the brainwashed civilians and the necklaces which kept them unaffected from whatever technology was at work. Every possible attack scenario that Sergeant and her seconds in command could predict might be launched against the defence would likely harm the innocent shoppers. That meant the City's justice forces were going to be stalled unless something truly scary showed up, which was always an outside possibility in Academy City.

"I suppose a guest we missed up on the higher floors has contact with someone important…" Sergeant mussed as she ignored her comrade, hoping that no one a director cared about had been taken. _That would make things a lot harder to manage, given how that bunch cares a lot less about collateral damage than do the traditional authorities. Still, unless it was something that their lives depended on, even the directors would likely wait for more information. Hopefully long enough for the plan to be carried out without a hitch._ She reflected that it had always been a risk, but not a huge one.

"Why couldn't we just follow the main plan, anyway, boss? We didn't get nearly enough candy distributed to other the floors, and everyone past floor ten made it clean away further up." Though the woman had a good point, Sergeant didn't have the time to waste speculating. Things were in motion, and she needed to follow suit.

"That's not your problem right now: besides, we still got nearly a third of all the shoppers here tonight. Most people were on the lowest floors anyway. For now, we just have to make do while they work to round up the rest. Give me a call if the status quot changes." Sharing a salute, the two women split apart to their separate rolls. Continuing her inspection tour, Sergeant considered those she worked with. She knew she could count on all the old hands from back in America: most had learned passable Japanese in the years since their move and many shared a common history in the armed forces. And the newer crew was generally solid, used to handling Academy City's finest. Even so, it had been hard filling every role with someone completely dependable, meaning her paranoia demanded continuous surveillance. _If only that mind control thing didn't make people as slow as all Hell, I'd have used it on a few of the worst offenders here…_ She broke off those dangerous thoughts: it never paid to rely on any kind of forced subversion for long. Best not even dream of the impossible.

Each other entrance she checked conveyed a similar story, though the Anti-Skill presence increased with each visitation. The hexagonal Dianoid opened up onto wide city streets on each side, but remained crowded between many nearby skyscrapers along its corners with long support wires threading chaotically between what gaps there were in the clustered buildings. In each of the six main roads leading to a different entrance, enemy forces were plugging every avenue of escape. On the bright side, in the event that Sergeant had to force their way out, it would be hard for their opponents to move reinforcements around to any one entrance through the narrow alleys. They would be divided, while Sergeant could coordinate at weak-points. The inverse was not true, since each doorway was a minute's jog from the next on the inside: an assault from outside would always be costly and facing the maximum numbers of defenders. The greatest fact on her side was that those bottlenecks had to be taken: access through the underground was impossible without days of digging, and the roof was little better. The Dianoid's original management had been so paranoid for their own and their paying clients safety that their were no helicopter or exits to the top of the building. As she walked, she knew Anti-Skill would be drilling their way from the top down as a secondary entry plan. However, any tools that could do it quickly would structurally weaken the rest of the building. To ensure the whole thing didn't fracture around a single fault, they had to go very slowly, too slowly to stop the "magicians" plan.

Just when she was considering moving upstairs to check on her scouting teams, a security guard from the front entrance hollered for Sergeant's attention.

"Hey! HEY, SERGEANT! There's a woman out there with a megaphone! Bellowing something about unconditional surrender!"

"So, it's time, huh." Stretching her arms, she called back authoritatively. "Well!? Get me ours, then! Hurry up; it's time to start negotiating!"

!~~~~~~~~!

Back to the present: 10:06 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, 39th Floor, Luxury Bathroom Display #17

"S-s-so… Magic, huh? Eheh… Well… Where do I… Begin..." Touma cast his eyes about for salvation, looking anywhere but at the determined face of his companion. She began to lean into him slowly, pressuring him for an answer. "Uhm, y-you're getting awfully close, aren't you?" Though she blushed furiously, Mikoto refused to be distracted. She just narrowed her eyes and bored into his mind through his skull, brow twitching with anger. Just when the boy was halfheartedly considering letting her pass out again to avoid this issue, she relented. Sitting back against the wall with a sad little humph, she turned her head away before scooting away from Touma. "Ah, Bi-Misaka-san, are you okay?"

"I'M FINE."

"O-oi, oi! K-keep it down! We're hiding, remember?"

" **I know that.** " The spiky haired boy gulped nervously at that, grateful that for once even if he really pissed her off there would be no lightning. Still, there was something unfamiliar in her tone.

They sat in silence for a minute, her stewing in whatever mix of emotions he was trying to isolate and identify. _She's really upset, isn't she? …Am I being unfair to her? I mean, she's trying to be helpful, but if tell her more she'll just run into_ _ **more**_ _of my problems. Gah: why is there no good answer!? And why does she even want to know so badly? Do secrets really bother her_ _ **that**_ _much?_ Just as he resolved to attempt an apology, Mikoto cut him off.

"I get that you don't want to talk about it. I know what it feels like to want to keep a secret." This startled him right off his planned course, so Touma just sat in silence. "But I mean, we're fighting Magic, right now! So, just tell me what you can, okay? At least enough to get us through…" _…At least enough for me to do something... To n-not be a b-bur…_ Mikoto was fully expecting to get sidelined again, but she had resolved to always push forward. It wasn't her way to be indirect or coy, even if she couldn't admit what she really felt. Though electricity always takes the route of least resistance, that rule did not apply to its master. However, she was surprised when Touma cleared his throat and apparently agreed.

"Ah. Ah, okay... Yeah, I'll tell you what I can. T-Though like I said I don't understand much either! Really, I'm just throwing around words others use. But maybe, before I do that, you can tell me what you saw before, when we were separated? Then we might be able to figure out what's really happening here…" Though it bothered him deeply to lay this burden on the girl who kept coming to his aid, he was thoroughly grateful that she seemed to have brightened up. There was no longer even a trace of frustration on the side of her face that Touma could see. It was instead scrunched up in quiet deliberation, lips cutely pursed as she began taking things seriously and gathering her thoughts. After a minute he realized those lips were moving, now pointing at him as anger returned to her eyes.

"Hey! Earth to Idiot! Were you even listening!?"

"Uh, yeah! Yeah! G-go on, you were saying… something about…" He searched his memory for what he had absentmindedly ignored, and drew a solid blank. "…Uhm, what you saw!" She rolled her eyes in renewed annoyance at his pleasantly baffled face.

"Oh sure, that's real specific. No wonder you keep taking remedial classes, you don't know how to pay attention. No wonder I can't shock you, you've just got vacuum up in there, space cadet," She bonked her own head theatrically, accidentally brushing Touma's hand in the process. Though she immediately froze and blushed heavily, the boy hardly noticed.

"Now that's just unfair, it's not even my fault most of the time…" Yet even as he pouted, Mikoto found the composure to start over, and this time he focused to avoid the lash of chastisement. Its bearer coughed a little to hide her embarrassment, and started over while fighting back unruly emotions.

"Mmm. Right. S-so, after you disappeared down that hole…"

!~~~~~~~~!

10:17 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, 16th Floor - Nightwear and lingerie

The magician strode down the hall with confidence, though his legs were beginning to tire. He had walked all the way up to this point at a good clip, and was idly considering getting some sort of litter set up to carry him forward. [1] He quickly dismissed the thought as unworthy, since he couldn't justify using his hard-working helpers like that. As it was, they must be more tired than him anyway, because they were constantly carting goods from the lower floors up. It **was** troubling that they were beginning to slow down: he hadn't considered before rushing the plan ahead that having less converts would mean more delays as the floors went up and their trips back down became longer. Still, progress was being made, and he was grateful for what success he could get on this surprisingly unlucky day. So on again went his chipper smile and bright attitude, the mask that was his second face.

"Excellent! Thank you, my dear! Now, just move it a few feet to the left! No, your left, not m- Yes, now give it a turn! More, more… **Yes**! Thank you, you are too kind, my sweet, just too kind!" It was proving even more tiring than walking just to keep up the energetic act for so long: he took a quick swig from the water he had the foresight to bring along before continuing. "Yes, thank you all! Remember, the Spirit of Christmas can't be reached without the most careful placement of these presents!" His enthralled workers nodded blissfully before turning back to their tasks. Though slow, they remained steady, and so far no one except the least physically fit had required a break.

One of those weaker students, a young boy, had not been tasked with carting around heavy boxes or decorations. Instead he carried a large cloth bag, the size of his head and decorated with stencilled images of holly and lace. Walking up to the shoppers seemingly at random, he would dip a hand inside to retrieve a candy. Drowsily his target would take another of the sweets, before continuing their own missions. The little child would then move on, to find someone else in need of a magical tune up.

He was more or less ignored by his colleagues and the Magician except for when he needed to restock his supply. His immediate task completed, the boy was left to his own devices, not guided by any specific direction. For him this was a blessing, for floor 16 held a particular interest to the pre-pubescent mind. Despite being only 10 and heavily under the effects of magical compulsion, a boy remained a boy. With a slow and plodding sneakiness he stole up on a store's display of a particularly intriguing bit of feminine underwear, awkwardly trying to hide his interest. As he watched, he was completely unaware of the second pair of eyes that were trained on him.

A young man crouched behind a counter deeper inside the store. He blinked violently, trying to force the sleep from his eyes and spirit as he maintained focus on his brother. Out in the hall, both the magician and most of entourage were already past, and likely the curious boy would move on with them soon. It was now or never.

With a start, he dashed out from his hiding spot and scooped up the perplexed boy, who was far too addled to assess what was happening. The few shoppers who did notice the commotion merely turned to face it, lacking detailed instructions. They watched the retreating brothers escape down the hall, only belatedly raising their voices in disapproval. Though he reached the next floor's access, the further the older one travelled back down the hall laden with decorations the more tired he became. His pace had already been abnormally slow: it was only thanks to the slower responses from the controlled shoppers that he had made it unopposed. The young man could tell it wasn't normal exhaustion or from the stress of the evening, but he couldn't spare the time to worry about it. Instead he turned a worried face to his brother still huddled in his arms.

"It's okay, Fumio! I've got you, let's get-Eh? Agh!" The older boy's attempt to climb the stairs up a level was being hampered by another factor, as his brother squirmed to free himself with surprising strength, mumbling all the while. "Damn it! So it's still affecting you, eh? How far then…!?" He was cut short by the sudden appearance of a scantily clad woman in front of him at the top of the stairs he climbed. Though it served to distract his young charge for a moment, the older boy instantly knew this was not good news. Her brown locks settled around her shoulders as she seemingly appeared from nowhere. Frowning, she watched down imperiously as the boy reached into his pocket with a free hand.

"Stop. You don't have to run. Your brother is safe-"

"He is now!" Cutting her off, the boy threw something with his remaining strength directly at the woman's face. Her frown deepened at first, but widened into shock when a small arc of lightning lanced out from the boy's hand to strike his first attack. [2] Sparks quickly burst around the shimmering, metallic ball as it bounced off the woman's forehead.

The sudden explosion of smoke and light blinded Miss Baker, knocking her to the floor in a coughing fit. She could just about tell what had happened; the boy was another electric esper of some sort, but had concocted some sort of additional weapon. She tried to reach out with her power to disable him while her senses returned, even for a second, but he had already slipped by in her confusion.

Having left the last floor, the boy's strength returned to a degree. He gratefully picked up the pace, holding down his weakening brother against his shoulder with one arm while searching his pockets with the other. He only had two more of his jury-rigged flash bombs, but the first had been so effective he could spare the rest. Merely crumpled tinfoil and the guts of a handful of firecrackers the boy had pillaged, they dramatically evened the odds against an unaware opponent.

Traversing first one, then another set of stairs, the boy continued up to lose whoever might be following. It seemed they decided it wasn't worth the effort, for no sounds were closing from behind. Even better, the adrenaline he should have been feeling came back with a vengeance, while Fumio dozed fitfully. Whatever had been affecting them both couldn't penetrate past three floors. Still, it was not time to relax. Though he slowed, he carried his brother ever upwards, away from the mysterious encroachment below. [3]

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] A litter is a chair lifted from the ground by poles or a platform and carried by people, usually servants. If you've ever seen anything about an evil monarch or emperor or something, you've seen one. They just _scream_ self-indulgent megalomania.

[2] Anyone else remember how the books said electric espers were fairly common (I mean, beyond the 10000 or so we know about)? Well… Tada! We'll learn more about him soon enough.

[3] True story: at first I was planning this original character to fail in his mission, and end up being tripped up by his brother whom he didn't realize was being controlled (he would have assumed it was just coercion). But when writing, I realized he's got a surprisingly simple task. Once I started thinking about how the confrontation might go, I discovered he actually has a simple and accomplish-able goal, so prioritizing that gave him his window of opportunity. Plus he knows little boys: I can speak from experience; we ain't pools of limpid depths. He picked a trap, and waited to see if it would work. If it failed, he would have tried a different way, provided of course the mysterious effects of the spell didn't catch up to him first. He's not as immune as a certain scientific railgun is...


	17. Part 1: Chapter 14

**Wow! I did not realize how long this chapter got. And it's not very exciting! Oh well. I need another chapter or two to set up the real interesting stuff.**

 **Unless of course you think meaningful, character building dialogue is interesting, in which case this chapter might contain at least a reasonable facsimile of your interests.**

 **People seem to be drawing closer and closer to what is actually going on, but I'd be incredibly impressed if anyone truly has it on the nose. Still, I always love to hear the theories, especially because it gives me a bit of info on what details I might need to bring out more. So, thanks again for the reviews: I've read and appreciate them all! (I don't really know if it's common etiquette to respond to them, so for now I've just been noting them here)**

 **Without further ado...**

 **Chapter 14:**

10:31 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, 39th Floor, Luxury Bathroom Display #17

"…Right. So whatever it is you saw around his neck is the target, then? That might be hard to get to without a big fight." Touma scratched his head with his free hand, continuing to ponder a better way around their biggest obstacle. Mikoto however simply nodded, already resolved to their only course of action.

"We'r going to have to, since that looks like that's how does whatever he's doing. Remember, we need to do this fast to avoid getting all those civilians involved. Which also rules out trying to destroy or move all those presents they've set up: it's not like we have that luxury anyway, considering how crazily they outnumber us."

"Mhm, it's like you said: unless you were back to normal, they can put them back even faster than you could mess them up... Still, I'm glad we figured out what those presents are all about." _At least, in part... I thought there had to be some sort of centre point for something like this... maybe because he divided it all up into smaller ones...Do they just overlap or something? There might be more to this..._ _Well, we'll figure it out when it matters._

"Well, after you _finally_ explained that spells can require the careful arrangements of weird-ass spiritual junk, everything on the lower floors makes more sense. It's still crazy, though. How does that even work? What are they even **doing** to reality? Physics doesn't allow for any of this."

"You're not exactly one to talk, when it comes to personal realities…" _And I didn't try to hide that from you, I just forgot! Sheesh…_ His gentle criticism was essentially ignored as the level 5 continued her pondering, biting the end of her thumb lightly. It was a little childish, but not in a bad way. _Sort of like a lot of her other qualities. Except the zapping me part…_

"Totally different. My abilities have rules we understand: his are still a mystery I'm sure we can solve. Though I do wonder, what exactly is all this for, anyway?" At her sudden question, the boy stopped staring at her hand and startled back to reality.

"Hmm? W-what do you mean, for? Aren't they just trying to take over Academy City? Destroy science, spread Christianity: you know, the usual? I thought I explained that... Or did I forget?" Lost in his self-doubt he didn't expect Mikoto to elbow him vigorously, eliciting a few muffled yelps of surprise. It wasn't painful, but he was used to being zapped, not poked. _…Though I'd never complain about the change._

"No no no, think for once, Idiot! That can't be it this time! You said it yourself, these two sound different from other magicians, even the few I've fought. I haven't heard anything about a religion this whole night! And even if that **is** their plan, it's a horrible one. This place must be already surrounded by cops, so what possible use is there for all this build-up? Just to punish everyone in the store? There are way better ways to do that, and that doesn't sound like these two. Plus, there's no way to spread anything this complicated everywhere in the city without it being stopped somewhere, and that'd be all it took to mount a serious counter attack. The only reason it's working here at all is likely because the Dianoid is fairly easy to lock down with a lot of choke-points. So what are they after?" _Maybe it's just a heist: something specific? Then again, there must be a lot of money wrapped up in this building..._ While the girl thought further, Touma realized to his chagrin that he **was** being dense. More than once he had tried to charge in and stop someone without actually considering their aims or motivations until the end. It usually worked out, but not without some unneeded chaos along the way.

"Ah… yeah, you're right. So you think there's more to it?" He pondered for a moment, trying to consider the options. "Well… this could be just a distraction, from something else happening. Or maybe the first part of a bigger spell? I'll be honest, it's hard to know without… well, just asking them." He chuckled a little at the obviously implausible solution, but quickly grew concerned at the hard smirk his companion gave. Her watched her pound a fist into her palm, before cracking her knuckles louder than he would have thought possible.

"Fine then. Let's just zap'em 'til they tell us. I always prefer to solve my problems efficiently."

"...For someone so devious, Biri- I mean, Misaka-san, y-you really enjoy the direct route…" _Then again, I shouldn't be so surprised. Smart and brutal tend to go hand in hand with a lot of people in my life._ Though he was briefly worried his careless response would provoke anger, the girl instead flipped her hair and looked away, embarrassed.

"I-It's not like I've tortured anyone! It's just that lightning is a really good motivator." Though still blushing, she turned back to fix Touma with a dark look. "And what do you mean, **devious**?If only the direct route worked on a certain **Idiot** …" The naked menace in her expression brought a familiar sinking feeling to the boy's stomach.

"W-whoa there! Ah-hahah…I- I thought we had moved past this-"

" **That** was only about the duels. If you're being stupid, I still want to fry you." Though she smiled, it was thin comfort.

"…R-right, I g-get it." _And in her mind, that's always! Nothing ever changes… Such misfortune._ "This is just like last time I was here, getting bullied by girls…"

"…Last time? …Hold on! Yeah, that's right-"

"-did I say that out loud again-"

"Yeah! Hey, didn't you say a few weeks ago that you had to come here?" _W-with two girls…W-who again…? N-not like I care anyway, b-but... Wait a second. Hold on…_ "Wasn't that right around…? You were **not** involved in that **incident** here back then, were you…?"

 _Crap crap crap._ "…I was. BUT IT WASN'T ABOUT ME I SWEAR! **STOP**! PLEASE! AGH! Elbows don't **go** there!" It took a few moments, but Mikoto finally did believe him.

"…Good. But you still should have told me! You always go off and just… just **do** these things a-and end up fighting-"

"…Didn't I tell you?"

"-and getting hu- I MEAN, in trouble… Eh?"

"I did tell you. Yeah, I know I did! And you advised me just to suck it up after attacking and storming off…" [1]The memory of this encounter replayed now in Mikoto's mind: she only really recalled that it had made her unexpectedly mad to hear of him shopping with others girls. Though now that she had her spin at the wheel, it seemed to her that things weren't turning out much better.

"…Eh… Eheh… HMPH. **Well.** You still should have told me about the incident afterwards! The news reports made no sense, there were all about how tensions were high at Christmas after World War 3, and some unknown esper was causing…. It wasn't an esper then either, was it?" This was the moment Touma had been dreading, for the conversation had again turned towards the magical. But for once he had a plan: if you can't mislead someone with misdirection, baffle them with the truth.

"…How much do you know about St. Germain?" _There, that ought to derail-_

"What, that theosophy guy? Ancient master of wisdom, or some nonsense? I remember studying about him when learning about the history of false science and alchemy…" [2] While Mikoto dredged up memories of an old report half-remembered, Touma could only stare blankly.

"…What are they teaching you oujo-sama's anyway? Seriously, alchemy? That's craz-" _Wait. No, I fought one of those guys already. Damn it…_ Mikoto ignored the boy's consternation, instead focusing on the perceived insult with a fiery blush.

"W-well, excuse me for paying attention in class! Besides, in the City of Science, it pays to know all about charlatans and false-prophets of progress. I think everyone learns a little about it…" Touma realized she was probably right and quickly changed the subject, wanting to avoid revealing his obvious lack of study.

"Ahhh, either way! He… or I guess it maybe? It was some kind of spell that came to life? Sort of, but he didn't actually exist, not as a person, and he only really lived in the moment... Oi, don't look at me like that! Anyway, the whole situation got resolved without anyone getting hurt. And it was really pretty confusing, honestly."

"…Fine. I can see… I c-can see I'm not getting m-more out of you." She wasn't nearly as annoyed as she was pretending to be, for as the boy spoke she slowly noticed how her head moved up and down on his shoulder. At some point and without intending to during their brief rest she had gotten surprisingly close to him: neither had seen fit to move since so there she stayed. Whenever he spoke, the feeling of his hand would change: at times it tensed and at others it was relaxed, but it never once felt anything but right. She felt warm, perhaps overly so, but not in a bad way. They remained like this, just resting in silence, for a few moments. A slow awareness of his closeness and her response built up in the young girl's mind. _T-this shouldn't be so… I sh-shouldn't be so comfortable, what am I-_ Yet even as an outburst slowly built within her, she was distracted by Touma's voice.

"You know, as far as magical attacks go this is way better than last time. Heck, this is in the top 5, easily."

"…W-what?"

"Well, the best part is that no one is in immediate danger: Amazo at least seems like he isn't about to kill anyone. I was worried there might be something worse that St. Germain going on, but so far he's just a slightly unusual magician with a very angry sidekick. And for once, I have an excuse to just rest and be comfortable, to not be **tired** the whole time during an adventure. Seriously, when it was Index and Oth-! …Uhm…" _I have a horrible feeling that I really don't want to mention that I'm also rooming with a chibi Magic God._ The damage was done, however, with only the first name. He could only imagine that the Mikoto was starting to boil over, so he tried to defuse the situation. "A-anyway, phew! Gosh. I think I was just tired. I'm feeling loads better, how about y-you!? Because, this is really restful." Though he stretched his free arm dramatically and stifled a fake yawn, the girl next to him interpreted things differently.

"Hah." _This whole day has been anything but... I dragged him into all this, didn't I..?. From the moment I got here-no, sooner… What have I even done right?_ Her hard laugh sent a twinge of regret through Touma: he hadn't intended to be making it a joke.

"No, really! Well, not the running away from mall full of zombies, climbing tons of stairs, and the piggy-back parts. But everything el… I-I mean, just sitting here... it's been a while since I've been this comfortable!" He patted the plush fabric they sat on fondly, but Mikoto remained incredulous.

"Really. This is no better than a futon."

"You're telling me! And it beats the heck out of a bathtub." He realized she wasn't responding, and turned to meet her carefully blank expression with surprise. "What? It's where I sleep. I do have a blanket, at least."

"But... don't you have a b-b-bed?" With a sudden clarity, the girl realized where this conversation would inevitably head. _Oh god why did I ask that_ _ **now**_ _I_ _ **have**_ _to hear ohgodohgod-_

"Don't you remember? I room with Index. She takes that, so the bath is all I can use."

"..." That had not been the answer she was dreading. _What. What? …_ _ **What?**_

"Uhm, Biri-biri? Hello?"

"...s-s-s-s-ooo..." It was proving impossible to stop: despite the war waging inside her, Mikoto continued to press ahead. _Whatwhatwhat? WHAAAAA-_

"What? What is it?"

"...You don't..." She could not believe just how well Touma was pretending to not notice the issue that his female roommate should have presented. _IS_ _ **HE**_ _ACTUALLY_ _ **GOING**_ _TO!? TO_ _ **MAKE**_ _ME_ _ **ASK**_ _!? DAMN_ _ **DAMN**_ _DAMN! AGH,_ _ **I HAVE TO**_ _NOW!_

"Don't? Don't what, sleep? Come on, I'm so confused right now-"

"…S-s-s-s- **share** …?" _ohpleaseohpleaseohplease… nonono…_ Despite imagining the worst, the girl's fears were immediately lifted by the outright horror in Touma's response.

"...! OH, **NO**! No no no no no **no**!" He quickly realized that he was nearly shouting into her ear, and dropped back down to stage whisper, sweating buckets. "Are you **kidding**!? How the, why would, what the... Oooooh!" The problem suddenly occurred to him. "Oh, I see! I guess you really don't know Index that well, do you? You're just around us so often, I figured… A-anyway, Ahah, **no.** No, **nothing** like that. Seriously... she'd bite my head to pieces if I suggested that! Not that she doesn't bite me anyway, but it'd be way worse than usual…" Though he sounded sincere, that left only more questions in the level 5's mind. Despite her resolve to not pry into his past, Mikoto was left wondering about his relationship with odd girl named Index.

… _So what the **Hell**? She lives with him, but they're not... They're not related, I'm sure, or at least not closely… Step-siblings maybe? No, I would have heard that by now, and she says she's a nun for goodness sake! She can't be much older than me… I'm so confused. Is his family __**that**_ _strange… Actually, I'm not one to talk about having an odd family, am I…?_ Her introspection was interpreted by Touma as disbelief, so he continued to try and justify his strange lifestyle.

"So, yeah. She takes the bed, and I've slept in a tub for a while now… Seriously, what you were thinking, joking about me sharing a bed with her? You'll give me a heart attack! Heh... the only way a girl lets me get that to close to her on purpose is when there's no other option or she's trying to murder me! L-like right now, I guess. T-the **former** one I mean! Ahah, y-yeah…" He scratched his nose, not expecting that his hastily conjured explanation would precisely describe his thoughts on their current sojourn in this very fancy bathroom. What he did notice was that his partner straightened like a board before slowly pivoting to face him. This time her look wasn't exactly blank, nor under rigorous but faltering control like before. She wasn't testing the waters to see if they were warm enough. It was more as if someone completely unfamiliar with liquids of any sort was having the concept of "wetness" described to them. In short, Mikoto was legendarily confused and in utter disbelief.

Touma remembered when he had last inspired such a look: earlier this month, when he was sitting with Komoe-sensei in an after class make-up session. She had him doing sheets of mindless questions, which he had barely even been able to read after his exhaustion from a previous adventure. When he dutifully passed them to her for assessment, he was shocked by the astounded look she wore. Thinking perhaps he might have done exceptionally well for once, his drooping face brightened, only to realize she couldn't have possibly read all of his answers already. In fact, she was only staring at the questions. At first.

"K…Kamijou-chan?"

"Y-yes sensei?"

"…That… That was the same question 7 times. You answered them all differently, desu? The same question. Differently. Differently? And it took you… 20 minutes, desu? 20. 20… M-minutes." Sure enough, each of the 4 multiple choice options had been selected at least once. The printer had made a mistake in repeating task #27, but even in his exhausted state Touma quickly realized that it wasn't going to take the blame. When the paper she had extended for him to review began shaking, he glanced back up to gauge his teacher's reaction.

Komoe-sensei wore the strangest mix of expressions that he had ever seen. Flashing between despair, confusion, utter shock, and frustration creeping towards a fundamental breakdown, it hadn't even been cute on his diminutive teacher. That same expression was downright horrifying on Mikoto. At first Touma thought the level 5 had been rendered absolutely speechless for the first time in her life, but with a monumental effort she overcame the blockage.

"...What." If her voice was flat, her mind was a whirlpool. _IS HE REALLY THAT DUMB? I just. I don't even. I can't. It's not…How? Why?_ "…What?" She repeated into the silence, this time managing to phrase it as a question. Touma finally remembered what he had even been talking about before this sudden change in her temperament, and continued with a blush as he studied the ceiling.

"Uhm... well, unless it happens accidently, of course. Like I stumble into someone and land in their skirts, or walk in on an unfortunate bathing circumstance. Those don't really count though, when it comes to being close to someone. And b-besides, I think you know how those interactions usually go. Such is my luck in life! Heheheh…"

"S-s-so all those g-girls hanging off you…" _He must. He_ _ **must**_ _know. There's no way - But how - So many? Maybe he's just not intere… No, he's being honest, he_ _ **really**_ _can't imagine... But-but-but-what?_ While her mind slowly rebooted, Touma defended his honour as best he was able.

"Who? W-wait, you mean all the magic side people? They're not- They're not "hanging" off me! I mean, a lot of them **are** friends now, because we've helped each other out, but some even I can tell just want to use me for their own ends. D-don't get me wrong, they are still good people: they're just a little confused… Anyway, that's all they are: friends, even at b-best!" He paused for a second; grateful the confusion was at last cleared up. Then he chuckled, scratching his chin and smiling wearily without realizing he did. "Heh. Really, as if **I'd** get a girl through all this adventuring stuff: I'm not some knight in shining armour, that's for sure. …Ah! Whoa, hold on." His temporary moment of peace was interrupted by a disturbing feeling. For a moment the boy began to panic: the head nestled in his hand was rapidly heating up. _It's not her powers or the spell: is she running a fever now? That's such a quick development, is she going to be okay?_ "Ah-Biri-, I mean, Misaka-san, are you-"

 _But I_ _ **know**_ _, I've_ _ **seen**_ _those_ _ **damn**_ _girls, tons of them, it gets me so- AGH, I don't care, I don't, but how could he not- How could he think, how could even_ _ **he**_ _not notice, not think- I mean, even my_ _ **sisters**_ _act like… and then Mental Out and his classmates and how many more magicians, how can I just… Nope, nope nope nope, I don't care,_ _ **I**_ _**don't care**_ _…_ _**OOOHHH, but I do!?**_ _AGH, WHAT AM I THINKING!? NO NO NO NO!_ It was all too much for the young girl, who had hardly registered any of his later comments. She had reached the limits of what she could accept about Touma's impossible life: it was time for the blessed simplicity of action. She sprang up, dragging him his feet with her as he struggled to keep a grip on her head.

"Fine! I'm fine! Never better! Full of energy! So let's go! Right now-Idiot! W-we've got a mall to save, remember!?" Eyes manic and heart pounding, Mikoto grimly clamped his hand to her head as she marched for the door. Touma lamely limped behind, legs still asleep and now cramping hard. His various attempts to be a voice of moderation were completely ignored.

"H-hey, you should still keep quiet, we don't know…" They burst out from the bath and through the larger display area into the floor's hallway, abruptly crossing the path of the only other people on the floor. 3 pairs of eyes met instantly as a fourth gently fluttered open.

"Onii-chan… what…" The small boy's voice was subdued, as if waking up from a nap after a gruelling marathon. He peered up blearily at the two people his brother had nearly walked into, trying to understand. The boy with the spiky hair was a little strange, but the other one elicited a bit of comfort and familiarity. "Oh… it's you… pretty..." With that simple assessment, he fell back into sleep, nestled against the body that bore him.

"Oh, hey! It's you again! You got your brother!" Touma's eyes lit up in honest joy, missing the blush that Mikoto was trying to hide from all the boys present. The unknown young man they recognized from before didn't quite get all of what was going on, but he understood Touma's feelings well enough.

"Yeah, I got him! Fumio here was under their control, passing out a bunch of those candies whole others were playing down these weird…"

"Candies? What candies?"

"Ah! You didn't see? I think that's how they're doing it, controlling everyone! T-the magician-terrorists, I mean. Oh! Hey, before I explain more, I should introduce myself. I'm Kono Toyoharu, and this is Kono Kumio, my brother." Though still burdened with his brother, Toyoharu stretched out his right hand, which Touma tried to meet with his own until her remembered Mikoto still needed it. Blushing slightly he gave his left instead, which Toyoharu accepted readily in his own after redistributing his brother's weight in his arms.

"Kamijou Touma. But still, it's really great to hear you did it! But how did…Oh, right, sorry! This here is Biri-bi- I mean, Mi-"

"Candies? You said something about candies." The level 5 interrupted, finally recovered from her embarrassment enough to re-join the conversation. That detail of his initial speech had stuck in her mind.

"Hmm? A-ah, right!" It seemed Kono Toyoharu was fairly easily distracted. Poised to launch into the details his daring rescue operation, it was only Mikoto's intervention that returned his explanation to their focus. "Well, you see, my brother wasn't just moving around random gifts and decorations and stuff like the others. He was passing out these: here, have a look, but don't try one!" He passed them to Touma, who peered at them with the undisguised sadness of one who knew they were not something he should taste even if he did expect Imagine Breaker to counter their effects. Both his hands were occupied now, one with Mikoto and the other the bag, so he just peered around at the bag's intricate seasonal decorations.

While the spiky hair boy held it up to the fluorescent lights, their new acquaintance began to stare with increasing intensity at Mikoto. Though at first Toyoharu attempted to be subtle, it quickly became apparent that he was trying to place where he knew the girl. She was unaware, wrapped up in determining how the candies were involved in the magical aspect of the evening's events. Toyoharu's expression went from idly curious to deeply intrigued, before exploding in sudden recognition.

"AH! You're the Railgun! I KNEW I recognized you! How'd it take so long-Oh wow, this is great! This night just turned right around!" His rudely pointed figure was rapidly withdrawn in embarrassment, but Mikoto was still caught off guard with the unexpected adulation. However, she quickly entered a more professional mode, used to handling admirers at random times.

"Eh? O-oh, yes, sorry. Misaka Mikoto, pleased to meet you!" She bowed slightly and he did the same, running his free hand through his hair as he did.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm being rude! I apologize, Misaka-sama. I know I'm a little excited, it's just you're a real inspiration to us. And I'm sorry I didn't recognize you sooner, I was just so worried about my brother and the terrorists and-"

"Pardon me, but who do you mean by us?" Mikoto's surprised interjection set the excitable young man off on another series of tangents. Although all present and conscious were absorbed by Toyoharu's animated explanation, Touma's initial transfixed confusion transformed slowly into swelling amusement.

"Well, you see, there are lots of electricity-based espers in Academy City - As I'm sure you know of course! Anyway, a lot of us weaker ones - I'm barely a level two you see - Electro-user, I mean - We get kind of looked down on as being common. But it's always encouraging for us to see you, up there as a level 5, being so responsible and mature! Plus, being the youngest public level 5 just makes you all the more cool! Really, you're an inspiration, being the face of Academy city to the rest of the world! You always seem so poised and respectable - It's n-not like we're a **fan club** or anything, but your name is always... eh?" Throughout his stream of earnest praise, Mikoto humbly waved off as much as she politely could, but neither expected the sudden burst of laughter from Touma. They stared at him as he struggled to contain himself, hand still clasped to the increasingly annoyed girl. Finally he recovered enough to explain, though it was with faltering breaths.

"Haha, heh… R-Responsible? Yeah, I guess, but… R-r-r …" Choking back another round of guffaws, he narrowly avoided relapsing. "Respectable? **Poised**? Sure, sure… and really, m-m-mature? **Mature?** Is this the same 'Misaka Mikoto' we're talking about? I've never heard you described like that: what kind of double life are you leading, Biri-biri? Hahaha, m-mature…pfft! Hey, tell me Kono-san, have you ever heard of Geko- AGH! **AGH** AGH! SORRY! **I'm sorry, please stop**!"

" **YOU. DAMNED. IDIOT!** " Mikoto had only been able to handle so much teasing. Removing imagine breaker from her head with a slap she unleashed a barrage of lightning strikes against a certain spikey-haired idiot, startling Toyoharu with the unexpected violence. Though Touma blocked each and every one, he was hard pressed and had to scurry away in terror. The lights of the building repeatedly dimmed and pulsed, currents amplified by the output of her wrath. Though Mikoto was planning to carry on for a good minute, she stalled when she recalled the admirer was still present.

A horrified Toyoharu was waving his free hand frantically, cautioning in a broad stage whisper before peering down at his charge anxiously. "Hey, hey! My brother is sleeping, please! Keep it… down…? Oh. Well. Never mind, I guess." It seemed Kumio hadn't notice anything, but was so deeply exhausted that he was insensible to the world. Relieved, Toyoharu turned back to the matter which had confused him from the beginning as an easy change of topic from whatever had just transpired. "S-say… why was your right hand even on her head anyway? Is that some new things that couples are do-"

" **WE'RE NOT DATING**!" Their unified shout could have been rehearsed, as could their shared expressions of embarrassment. Realizing he had stepped into something awkward, Toyoharu staggered back a step from the scene and bow an quick apology.

"Oh! Sorry, I just… Well, anyway, I guess that's… Good?" His words fell into the empty chasm of silence which stretched between the Mikoto and Touma, the latter of whom was now 15 feet away on his rear. When it seemed to him that things would go no further without his prompting, Toyoharu continued with more than a little hesitation. "…So, the hand thing then?"

"Ah…It's a long story, but... Wait. Bi-Misaka-san, how are you… Are you okay now? You're standing just fine!" Touma's response was cut short by his abrupt realization.

"…Eh?" They had both finally noticed that Mikoto had fully recovered: the girl realized there was no strange weight, no compulsion she needed to resist with her powers. Eventually it dawned on her: whatever was affecting her had finally worn off. "Ah! AHA! **Yes!** I'm back!" She nearly punched the air in triumph before remembering again the present company. [2] Blushing, she merely coughed and brushed the hair from eyes instead. "Y-yes, that's good. Now we can get to work…"

"O-oh… so you had a candy earlier like my brother was passing around? And Kamijou-san was comforting you while you were recovering, I guess? You two must be close..." As Toyoharu struggled to make sense of their relationship, he was surprised by yet another tandem outburst.

" **WE'RE NOT** close…?" Though they had started off together in sync, Touma's sudden faltering left Mikoto's voice alone. She glanced at him in awkward confusion, and saw that he was doing the same. The unintended question was left hanging in the air.

"A-ah… **Well**! I was going to tell you about the candies, right?" Toyaharu's efforts to somehow divert the tension in the air were rewarded by an enthusiastic response from Mikoto.

"Oh! Yes, please, Kono-san, I'd appreciate whatever you can tell us! We're going to need to know whatever we can if we're going to stop this."

"Stop? You mean you're not going to wait for anti-skill?" Surprised into wonderment by the idea of his personal hero fighting crime, Toyoharu's expectations were blown away once again by the level 5.

"No, of course not! There are people in here that need help, and we have the power to do something. So, my… my **c-colleague** here and I will be dealing with them. With your information of course, Kono-san." The colleague in question had picked himself up and returned to the conversation, though rightfully leery about his immediate safety. Even so, the pair was able to listen in silence as the boy recanted his story.

Apparently the brothers had been on the seventh floor at a quarter past nine, unaware of the magic show, when the sudden crushing weight had briefly enveloped their world. At the time, Fumio was enjoying the bag of candy he had purchased on the cheap from a hastily erected security stall, while Toyoharu was a short ways off examining the newest phones on the market: they both fell where they stood as did those around them. When they recovered as much as was possible, it was to a chaotic scene: armed security guards were accosting large groups of drowsy shoppers and forcing them downstairs without explanation. Those not being rounded up fled once they realized the situation was dangerous, and the brothers tried to follow. Though Fumio had seemed unusually weak, Toyoharu pulled him along into the stampede upstairs, only to lose his hand in the press of bodies. At the time it was all the older boy could do to stay on his feet in the press of bodies; it was only when he had caught his breath near the Dianoid's heights that he realized his brother was gone. Assuming at first some responsible adult would have made sure the boy reached the upper floors it quickly grew obvious that he had not been so lucky. The younger brother had been left behind, or succumbed to whatever power that other escapees described seeing: either way Fumio was missing. Ashamed at his failure, Toyoharu was well into his search when he bumped into Mikoto and Touma the first time. After that, all that was left to explain was the actual rescue, and the peculiar weakening presence he felt around the magician and his decorations.

"Ah! Aha! That explains the presents, then!" Touma pounded Imagine Breaker into his open palm in triumph. "They create some sort of special ground or field or something, but I guess they can only make people weak or something: It's just not strong enough to let him control anyone by itself. These candies must be what make that possible… I guess that explains why he doesn't need so much power to pull this off." Now that he had Imagine Breaker free, as he spoke he tested it on the sweets Toyoharu had offered. To his surprise, nothing happened, leaving a gaping hole it in his prevailing theories. _So these aren't magical? I guess we're_ _still missing something, though…_ Despite certain misgivings, the boy was simply pleased to have figured out another piece of the puzzle. His partner had an entirely distinct reaction to the news about the magical field, ignoring the mystery around the candies in her consternation.

" **That** long!?"

"Ah, Bi-Misaka-san, what's wrong?"

"I-I let you carry me that long and I didn't even **need** to…!? A-agh…" She had just realized that the limited range on the spell's lasting effects meant she had been fine since they left the elevator. Yet she hadn't even tried to go without Imagine Breaker's comforting presence, or tried to stop being a burden to Touma. Bowed by the implication that she had enjoyed his hand's touch, the girl used both of her own to cover her face as she vigorously denied her own suspicions. _I was tired, right!? Yeah, still a little drowsy! P-plus I_ _ **deserve**_ _to be carried after his i-i-indiscretion! Right: and it's his fault anyway, h-his idea… S-stupid idiot…_ Regaining her composure, Mikoto surged on ahead once again, ignoring the blush that remained on her face. "W-whatever! I'm better! Let's go take out these terrorists! Come on, Idiot, let's go!" She power-walked with startling speed to the nearest set of descending stairs, but turned mid-way to shout when she remembered her manners. "Ah, goodbye and thank you again, Kono-san! Take care! …And **YOU!** Hurry up!" That last comment was directed at a certain unfortunate boy, who could only sigh in exasperation. He was about to leave when Toyoharu's musing caught his attention.

"Oh… so you must be really strong, too, to be trusted by Misaka-sama like that. And you did block all of her attacks: that was incredible! Tell me, what kind of ability-"

"S-sorry, got to go! I-If I see you later I'll tell you more! **BE SAFE, AND** **take care of** your bro _ther_ …!" Despite shouting, Touma's voice was lost when he finally disappeared down the stairs after Mikoto, sprinting after her in excessive hurry, bag of candies falling forgotten from his left hand. The strange pair gone, Toyoharu spent a second mentally replaying what he had just experienced. Eventually he just sighed and shook his head in deepening awe.

"So that's what she's really like in person? Huh… Wouldn't have figured. Still, she is planning to save everyone... Wow…" Having recovered some stamina from his short break, he took off in the opposite direction of the would-be heroes, back up to ferry his brother to safety. "…You know Kumio, I always told you could trust Misaka-sama if you ever saw her… I guess that's still true, but I'd better give you some pointers first. Man, the club isn't going to **believe** this…"

!~~~~~~~~!

10:49 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, 37th Floor, Kitchenware and Accessories

"Glad to see… You've got your energy back… heh…" Once caught up to his esper companion, Touma took a moment to also catch his breath. Mikoto had waited for him at the top of the stairs going down to the next area, but not with patience. She harrumphed decisively before turning away.

"Slowpoke. Let's go already; who knows how high up they've gotten…"

"Ah, we're not going to take the elevator?" Though he pointed in hope at a nearby lift, her derisive snort made that seem forlorn.

"I just said it! We don't know where Amazo even is! He could be only a few floors below, and then we might just end up really far below them, right in the middle of their damned spell. So, we take the stairs. Problem?"

"Nope, nope! That's smart, you're right. Lead the way, Biri- Ah, sorry, Misaka-san." Scratching his head as they descended to the next level, Touma struggled to figure out a way to deal with the advantages their opponent's had. _Even assuming Misaka remains at full power around him, it's going to be hard to deal with the innocent shoppers…_ His thoughts were interrupted by Mikoto, who apparently had some of her own.

"H-hey, Idiot."

"Sorry, yes?"

"W-why do you find it so **hard** to remember my **name,** anyway!?" The sudden energy of her question took Touma aback, so he could only stammer out an unprepared response.

"Wha-? A-ah, i-it's not like I'm forgetting-"

"Then **why** do you keep trying to call me B-b-b... That stupid nickname!?"

"...Force of habit? I'm sorry, I'm trying-" But she had already carried on, as if that wasn't really the greatest of her concerns.

"A-and even when you do remember, you're s-so f-f-formal! You've called me just Misaka before, why not now!?"[3] With a start she turned away to hide her face, realizing what she might have just inadvertently implied. When she heard Touma stop behind her, she cringed visibly. _Oh crap. Did I just…!?_

 _Ah. I get it now… I should have realized, now that she understands more about my memories._ "…I'm sorry, I'll do better. My apologies."

"…What?" _T-that's not what I expected… that doesn't sound like him at all…_ She turned back to observe the boy quizzically, who was staring unseeing over the sides of the railing to the floor far below him. "W-what do you mean?"

"I should have been considering your feelings. I guess I keep forgetting you are someone respectable. Sorry as well for being so rude up there: that guy really does admire you. N-not that I don't too, I just…"They had stopped midway on the stairs now, but progress had been forgotten. "Well, anyway, I shouldn't keep using that nickname if it bothers you. It was just easier than anything else for me to say, for a long time. It was the first thing that I thought of when I met you after losing my memories, and you seemed to recognize it. It sort of just stuck from then."

"…O-oh. Okay…" _Why… why did t-that not feel like a victory…?_ They almost restarted their journey when Touma spoke again.

"…It's surprisingly hard to just say Misaka if I have to think about it before doing it … even Misaka-san, too. Heh… maybe it's just that I don't want to refer to someone so casually who doesn't even use **my** name." _You may be a very close friend, but it still… it just doesn't feel right yet. I wonder why…eh!?_ As he started back downwards, the boy had failed to check in front of him. He was lucky Mikoto was gripping the rail so tightly. "O-oh, s-sorry, are you-?" Backing up a step, he was cut off from his concern.

"W-what do you mean, your name?"

"…Are you kidding?" A long pause. "You must be kidding. Heh. Heheheh... Hey, tell me, what even is my name, **Mi-sa-ka-san**?" His humour had recovered with the unexpected opportunity for mischief before him. He mercilessly teased the girl, punctuating every syllable with a poke into the motionless shoulder of the girl a step below him. "I thought I heard you say it before this very evening; what was it again? You haven't **forgotten** since, have you?" At first there was silence, or something very nearly like it. "Uhm… Sorry, did you-" Without being in front of her it was impossible to tell if she had just spoken or not, though he swore he saw her jaw move once more. Now simply curious, Touma leaned in further to peer around and see Mikoto's face. "A-ah, are you-!?" For a brief instant his hand lost grip on the railing and he pressed his chest into her back again. This time it was a gentle touch rather than solid bump, but it had a much more pronounced effect than the last.

He had no chance to react to the lighting which arced from the girl in front of him. It wasn't nearly enough to hurt but it did knock him from his feet. Falling hard on the stair behind him, he watched Mikoto take a stumbling step forward, equally startled by her own outburst. Yet while Touma remained somewhat dazed, she chose to take the offensive.

" **IDIOT**! Don't p-push me like that! We almost fell!"

"A-a-agh… Ow… S-sorry… 'bout that…" Rubbing his backside, he ruefully shook his head at his own silliness. _Did I really expect a different result? I need to stop listening to that little trouble-making voice in my head; it's just full of bad ideas. "Tease her more! It'll be funny! Then maybe she'll…" Hah. Right…_

As soon as she realized her part in the near accident, Mikoto calmed down considerably and felt more than a little guilty. "…A-and, sorry, I didn't mean to… t-to hurt you…"

"A-ah… it's okay! That was just a light shock, that's all! Eheh…" His arm twitched slightly as he brought it up to run awkwardly through his hair, cheesy grin well in place. She couldn't help but smile in return, though as always it came with a blush.

"…Oh, just give me your hand. Idiot." After she had helped him up, they resumed their descent, but after a few seconds of walking Touma spoke up again.

"Hey, is it just me, or are these stairs really long?" He began to actually take in where they were going, as did Mikoto. She peered around at what distractions had led her to ignore, eyes widening in surprise.

"Eh? Oh! It's huge!" The stairs were so long because they weren't descending merely one floor. Instead, floors 34 to 36 were all combined into one gigantic atrium, even larger that the main amphitheatre on the ground floor. While that took up less than a sixth of a single Dianoid floor's square footage, this occupied nearly all of one.[4] It ended up being larger than a mid-sized football stadium, though not by much. Around the outer edges at the height where the second and third floors should have been were instead large curving rings in front of small shops which completely lined the outer wall. The only way up and down this area, aside from the locked down elevators, were six sets of stairs. They spiralled down just inside and connected too each of the loops, offering a panoramic view of the mega-floor. Christmas lights already hung from the ceiling, as did a number of seasonal inflatable props.

The floor space was carefully cluttered; though many large paths and single central clearing remained free of goods, it seemed there were dozens of separate and competing displays. All sorts of things were here, most not for casual sale but intended for the truly big-spenders. There were vehicles of all sorts, a historical display on Medieval Europe alongside hot tubs and Jacuzzis: even a large playground for children was set up in one section with what looked like a functioning merry-go-round. The centrepiece for it all was a massive Christmas tree, ornaments arranged in complex geometric patterns. It was almost like a combination festive carnival and bazaar, all within the confines of only a small portion of this mall.

"A-agh! I had almost forgotten, but this place really is terrifying! All this!? Who could even buy **any** of this!?" Touma's despondent appraisal went ignored, for Mikoto was surveying the sight before her. She eventually chuckled, then laughed aloud.

"Yes, this is perfect! There were little bits here and there, but now this… **this** is what I needed!"

"Ah… Please tell me you're not planning on **buying** something-"

"No! Are you serious!? No, no! Look, **look** at all that! What do you see?" She apparently did expect a response, so Touma gamely tried to come up with an accurate one.

"…Such misfortune for my bank account?" Luckily he had taken so long that Mikoto ignored his answer, for she merely grinned and rubbed her hands in anticipation.

"This damn carbon building isn't going to slow me down anymore. All right! We've got our arena. Let's go set us up a trap. And maybe try out a few tricks I've been working on. Come on, I've got an experiment for you…"

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] This part is a little bit of embellishment. From what I checked in that NT book, Touma just mentions it to Mikoto, and then the scene ends. I just extrapolated what might happen, if Mikoto looked at it from an envious point of view and was annoyed by Touma's overly dramatic angst.

[2] Thank you, Wikipedia! To be fair, I knew a bit about him already, and I think I can justify her being familiar with the name as well. He really is quite a famous figure, despite being essentially a fabrication.

[3] All right, here my knowledge may fail me. Without spoiling NT 13, I know of at least one example there. I think there are more, but it was usually in moments of tension or combat. She doesn't say that explicitly here, but that's the unspoken point. I know that dropping honorifics from family names entirely is a sign of extremely close friendship (or more than friends) and family, but she's not really considering the implications of what she actually wants until she says it. I can't help but think she's heavily in self-denial, and under stress, which leads to my portrayed slip up. Touma's reaction, on the other hand, I'll keep in reserve… Leave an author some secrets!

[4] Allright: as far as I could tell, there are no actual measurements of just how big this mall is across. I'm guesstimating it at being 500 feet or so in diameter: this would leave room for hallways shaped like concentric smaller hexagons to run along the inside, providing access to various stores. I have no other idea how a building like this would be set up, though I wouldn't be surprised if the mall is actually much smaller in width. For the purposes of this tale, imagine it like a big old chunky hexagonal prism, not a thin, tower-like structure. Besides, if it was that thin, the floors would all be so tiny it'd be a pain in the ass to do anything. This is Academy City; even if my version seems improbably huge, it does reside in the City of Science. Why not make it stupidly big?

[5] I've also want to point out that I have intentionally rearranged the floor divisions of the Dianoid as they were described in NT 12. This is done for a reason, and is further explained in later chapters. So, don't be expecting reference to the Aqua Palace or such. Sorry I took such liberties, but there were a variety of reasons I wanted to use this setting, and not because it was already there and established.


	18. Part 1: Chapter 15

**Welcome back, viewers!**

 **I think this one pretty much matches the last in length, and this won't be the end of a longer trend. I'm glad about the generally positive impressions of last chapter people seemed to have. This one is going to be slow at first by comparison, but you should get a sense of acceleration happening in this and the next two pretty clearly, I hope. For now, though: EXPOSITION AHOY!**

 **I'm taking pointers into consideration, so please, keep them coming: If I redo this story I might really reconsider the overall structure. I'd definitely make each part more equal in length, and though I don't think I'd drop the usage of interludes I might change what is in them or better integrate them. At first, they were going to be a kind of "Between the lines" but then I decided I wanted to have a sub-story going on for fun. Look how THAT turned out. Until that rework, for now I merely adapt as I go! It's good that I have a big backlog of available stuff before posting, so that as much as possible can be improved based on opinions as they come.**

 **Side note: I agree with the review about the bold and have reread things on my own to see how it fits up ahead. Yet to be fair to myself, if anyone is going to overuse emphasis for effect, it's Mikoto next to Touma in an intimate setting... So I won't self-critique too harshly.**

 **Chapter 15**

10:49 P.M., December 23rd: Academy City, near The Dianoid Shopping Centre Main Entrance

The last remnants of Shirai Kuroko's patience were rapidly being worn away. Despite stifling a yawn she remained on edge, keyed up and tense with unreleased energy. Though she had arrived at her target in less than 15 minutes after leaving the 177th Branch Judgement Office, she had not outpaced Anti-Skill. Those officers had quickly established a perimeter at the scene, and made it quite clear that a certain teleporter was not to go inside and launch any reckless assault. Though Kuroko was confident she could deal with both the threats and protect the hostages in the immediate area, she was forced to admit that there was no way to clear the entire mall fast enough to ensure everyone's safety. So she had waited, and soon a senior officer from Anti-Skill rolled up. Negotiations began in earnest, but to the Anti-Skill's surprise there were was only one demand from the terrorists. It had confused the negotiating team to no end, and it was enough of a puzzle that it even distracted Kuroko from her anxiety. She had already secured herself a role on site by offering to help move up equipment and relay information, and so was able to subtly approach the commanding officer and her partner. They had just finished the latest round of dialogue in a long string of attempts, and had retreated from the front lines to an armoured van. Finally seeing her chance, the girl moved into action.

As she weaved between chatting security forces and idle robots, Kuroko looked up at the massive carbon structure before her. She had been to the Dianoid on many occasions, often trying to drag her roommate along with her to shop for more adult and respectable clothing. As such, the huge building was not as intimidating as it might have been even under these dangerous circumstances. In the past its outer walls were lit up, each panel cascading in vibrant lights to create a living light show. Recently, it had begun flashing the occasional logo of a major internal brand or store, a move that some had found classless but undoubtedly effective form of advertisement. Tonight, however, the skyline was dark: even though the internal lights remained on it seemed the lock-down begun by the fallen mall-cops had turned the outside system off. Now the building resembled nothing more than a gigantic soup can, albeit one flattened perfectly on six sides. Anti-Skill was deployed all around it between the gaps left by the other crowed departments and office towers, but it was two officers in particular that the teleporter tentatively approached.

"Why… why _midnight_ , of all times? I mean, I get that it's a nice round number, but what they Hell are they planning?" Aiho Yomikawa rubbed the megaphone against her head pensively, uncaring that it broadcast loud static as she did. Though wincing, Tessou Tsuzuri ignored the pain to offer her opinion.

"They must be doing something to make it worth stalling for time. Are there any obvious targets? Something to break into, like a safe or a vault?"

"Hard to say. Of course there are safety deposit boxes, and even entire suites that might contain valuables, but those are up high where security is thickest. Anyway, reports from inside indicate that nearly all their forces remain below. And while there are always a number of expensive exhibits on display at this mall, this week's line up just doesn't make sense to steal." Aiho leaned now against the vehicle, finally flicking off the megaphones batteries. "Everything there today is either festive, or an improbable target for this group. I mean, antique suits of armour may have value, but who's really buying that sort of thing, especially after such a high profile robbery? It can't be worth it: it'd cost more just to put together this sort of attack than you'd ever make back. Plus, everything really valuable is tagged with chemical tracers. It would take some serious expertise to get that stuff off the stolen goods."

"I see… and this couldn't be just for any of the ordinary mall inventory… besides, they haven't asked for anything but time. Not for clemency or an escape route for afterwards, or even money! This sort of hostage situation doesn't show up in the new hand book, I'm sure…" Tessou was anxiously flipping through Anti-skill's latest training manual, trying to break the stress of the prolonged siege. Aiho, who was less affected by the tension, peered over her shoulder in mild surprise.

"You still have that? Seriously, that wasn't even written in Academy City: it's useless. I burned mine weeks ago." Though distraught, Tessou couldn't help but cling to her lifeline.

"M-maybe so, but it's helped before! Let's see… it suggests getting to know the hostage taker, to make them want to be more personable towards you…" Aiho could only laugh aloud at her partner's suggestion, slapping her on the shoulder jovially.

"Hah! They've already got that angle in spades. I've never seen a case of Stockholm syndrome like this before…" Despite her joking tone, worry was writ large on the senior agent's face. It was indeed an unusual situation, even for Academy City, to have every last hostage side with their kidnapper. It stank of mind control, but the only esper capable of that on anything like this scale was accounted for. That is why, when a young pig-tailed Judgement officer came sidling up towards the pair, Aiho listened more intently to her words than she might have otherwise.

"…Excuse me, Ma'am, but I might be able to offer some help."

"Hmm? And who… What's your name?" The short girl looked vaguely familiar to the officer, but proved impossible to place at the moment.

"Shirai Kuroko, Judgement Officer, Branch 177, Ma'am. I'm a level 4 teleporter, and I might have some intel you could use."

"Ah… Shirai, Shirai… I feel like that should be familiar. Have we…?" The busty Anti-Skill officer wasn't one to ponder too long on a half-remembered name, and so she continued her interrogation, hastily covering a yarn. "Well, anyway, what have you got?"

"My partner who remains at our district office was the one who determined an incident was occurring in the first place and alerted Anti-Skill. You already have her initial report, but she just sent over some further analysis. Please, allow me to explain…"

After a concise account of how she had been in contact with her friend in the Dianoid at the time of the incident [1], Kuruko revealed the latest data from Uiharu.

"…and it seems like whatever happened began somewhere between 9:17 and 9:22. The only major event taking place at the time would be the signing ceremony for that magic show I mentioned."

"So based on this friend's texts, you two suspect mind-control? Well, we guessed that much, but as for the rest…" Aiho scratched her chin thoughtfully, trying to piece together the news with what she already knew. They had started receiving the scattered reports from those within the mall upper floors very soon after arriving: it seems that even though all the security land lines into and out of the mall were cut, no one had really cared if unaffected civilians could report their situation to those outside. That kind of failure in planning worried Aiho almost more than the other mysteries of the evening. Why didn't the information those within provided about a strange sense of tiredness and the symptoms of the mind control not matter? It was a puzzle, but the Anti-Skill officer had to return to the immediate issue. "So I guess your partner just pulled up the Dianoid's itinerary? Why didn't my analysts… Either way, what do we know about this "Amazo" fellow? The hostage taker I've been speaking to is a woman we know about, a known mercenary in town: how are they connected, then?"

"T-that we don't know." Here Kuroko was starting to slip into unfamiliar territory, but she still had more solid evidence to present. "But we **do** know a bit about Amazo, or rather, Terrance Bennett. He checks out as a real stage magician, so if he's actually a criminal it is a recent change or a well-kept secret. Born and raised Californian, he seems to have retired young from his once successful career, just three years ago. The really important part, though, is how he's connected to the Dianoid. Or rather, its management."

"Oh? What did your partner find?" Tessou was enthralled in the explanation, handbook forgotten and eyes slowly widening as they blinked away tiredness. Aiho listened intently, even now considering what implications such a connection might have on her negotiations. The teleporter pressed on, proud of what her partner had managed to dig up in such a short time. She read the brief synopsis which been sent to her phone aloud, passing along the data as she did.

"Well, he was an up-and-coming magician in the United States, trying to revitalize the old standards of a stage act but with a modern presentation. At the time he seemed to be destined for wider fame, but he ran afoul of corporate interests. Essentially, Mr. Bennett was perceived as a threat to a powerful group of individuals and businesses. They either owned or funded the established entertainment giants of North America, who had divided up control and operation of nearly all major live performances in the region. Nearly everyone who wanted to make a living on stage had to deal with them at some point. Uiharu-san – my partner – assumes that as collective group, this cartel of companies decided he was not likely to want to work within the establishment. This checks out, because we have quotes from Mr. Bennett on record describing their performers as either charlatans or misers. That anti-establishment platform was in fact the basis of a lot of his popularity and rising fame... Regardless, at some point shortly after their public arguments a federal law was passed establishing a new and major review board for all live shows. It was designed to ensure safety of the participants and the audience, but it essentially meant that Mr. Bennett would have to reveal all of his secrets to run any sort of act. We assume he must have decided it wasn't worth it, and subsequently out of any real work he retired. Luckily he had had enough success prior to this to not go destitute, but he dropped off the map until now."

"So those companies lobbied for this review board and forced him out of their way. But how does that connect to the Dianoid?" Aiho's questioning lead exactly to where Kuroko had hoped. The judgement officer beamed confidence before explaining further.

"It turns out a lot of the big entertainment giants also had a hand in commercial and retail business. Merchandising their acts and such. Uiharu-san did some research on the companies involved, and most were dramatically shaken up by the tensions surrounding the Blueshake media empire in America a short while ago. [2] They were so big before this point that to them, destroying Mr. Bennett was a very minor but necessary task. Yet after the events in Hawaii, they were barely able to file for bankruptcy. Collectively they had backed Blueshake at all the wrong times, lost a lot of capital and public faith, and ended up moving all their remaining resources into retail after merging their portfolios. They tried to fly under the radar at this point, eager to escape from the persecution they deserved for their part in a fairly clear conspiracy. Mostly, they wanted out of the countries that would no longer hold any powerful friends for then. That was when the directors of these companies saw a chance to penetrate a foreign market, in one of most profitable cities in the world, to turn around their fortunes."

"…You're saying they run the Dianoid now? So that's who bought it…" Though the chief negotiator nodded understanding, her partner was lost in confusion.

"Wait, the Dianoid's management has changed hands? That wasn't in the briefing…" Tessou was now flipping through the thin sheath of documents that all the officers had been circulating, but was interrupted again by Aiho.

"It was an order from higher up, I'm the only one supposed to know. Oh. Well, forget I said that." Waiving away her casual breach of security with her megaphone, she continued. "Yes, a new group bought the building out after the last incident here. The previous owners were eager to sell on the cheap, and apparently a hushed deal was preferred to reduce concerns of the mall's solvency. [3] That's why it wasn't in the news or made official. Very few people knew about it, even in Academy City. Even the massive remodelling and reconstruction work that had to happen after the last incident hear weakened the Dianoid's structural integrity was hushed up. All the workers were brought in from outside on temporary rush visas: the whole operation took under a week. That why the mall was still closed until last week." _Now I wonder how secret it could be, if this Uiharu girl pieced it together. I guess she followed the trail of money from the collapsed entertainment giants? Need to remember her name…_ "…Anyway. So now we've got a motive. It's petty revenge."

"Right. That's the only thing we could think of that would explain this attack. With another crisis so soon after the first, no one would come back to the Dianoid, even if it was proved to be in no way the mall's fault. We estimate that essentially all the reserves those American companies have left are tied up in this venture. If it goes under, they're all finished. We still don't know how any of this mind-control business is possible, but Uiharu-san is continuing her research." Kuroko had clearly run dry, but was rewarded with Aiho's broad grin.

"Very good work! I'll have to commend you two in our report, after I'm done lecturing our computer techs. Oy, stick around, you might learn something: I'm about to go drop a bombshell on these terrorists…" Striding away with renewed confidence towards the defensive police line, Aiho leaned heavily on top of one of the smaller Anti-Skill robots before flicking her megaphone back on. She faced the long line of windowed doors 50 feet away, still crowded with squirming bodies, and spoke out her amplified message calmly.

"Hello again, Miss Sergeant. I'd like another chat. Please? Be a dear." Within a minute, a voice responded from within the Dianoid, equally amplified but far distant.

"Aiho. I had hoped you were accepting our offer and just waiting out the night."

"We can't just take your word everyone will be unharmed when midnight passes, Sergeant. You know that: even if you say you'll give yourself up at the same time, that's not enough. We need concrete action, now. Some concessions."

"Are you sure that's really necessary? It's just a matter of waiting and you can see no one is hurt. It's not like things have changed in our little stalemate."

 _That's what you think, you smug…_ "Aha, well! About that…"

While they talked, Kuroko remained with Tessou a good distance back. The junior Anti-Skill leaned over to the young girl, whispering loudly to be heard over the amplified conversation before them. "By the way, don't do what she's doing. Showing your face so that the kidnappers see you're just another person is one thing, but she's exposing her whole body. Textbook rule: don't be a target."

"Uhm, but there's no one armed anywhere near the doors: they're all blocked by the hostages. I can actually barely see them. And it's so far back, isn't it unlikely they'd hit her? Besides, if they do that they'd stop covering their hostages and likely provoke an immediate response from Anti-Skiil, which the terrorists don't want, right?" Kuroko's logical interpretation brought Tessou up short, but the older woman persevered.

"E-even so! You don't provoke a hostage taker; they're not always as rational as you are! You ought to listen, you know! Judgement is still a long way from Anti-Skill!"

"A-ah, yes, sorry, you're right."

"…Anyway, I meant to ask you back when you were explaining. Why are you so determined to help here? I know you're Judgement, but this is more our line of work."

"I'm involved with this type of strange event more often than you'd think. And besides, my friends are in there, I have to do something!" It was burning the girl up to just watch the drama in front of her without getting involved. Aiho had managed to completely rattle the hostage taker with the revelation about the magician's involvement, and was now enduring a brief silence as Joy was presumably receiving orders. Rubbing her eyes, the Anti-Skill agent once again raised her megaphone.

"Whenever you're ready, Sergeant. I don't have all night, unlike some of us." _I_ _ **knew**_ _she wasn't the ringleader here, this really isn't her style. She's all flash, bang, and get out: she's too efficient to use hostages as the central plan._ Though enjoying the feeling of needling her enemy, Aiho was losing patience with this whole process. She had already disturbed the ant hill: in her mind it was time to pour the boiling water on. What she needed was an opportunity, something that would let her hammer home the advantage while the coordinating force among the enemy was distracted.

While many hostage situations were best resolved with time as the kidnapper tired or lost resolve, when professional criminals were involved the opposite was true. Each minute the discipline and nerve of the thugs wore thinner, making it more dangerous to be a hostage as time wore on. The larger the group, the worse it could be. All it took was one hired gun to make a mistake, and things would fall apart in the deadliest way. On the other side of the coin, if things looked really bad the professional hostage taker was less likely to mount some desperate revenge tactic or attack police forces recklessly in a suicide attempt. They often knew firsthand the legal consequences of such an option, and so would only fight until real hope of success was lost. Flight and personal benefit would nearly always come first. These facts combined made a sudden offensive manoeuvre all the more appealing to Aiho's action-oriented mind, since it would be less likely to cause casualties than simply waiting. All she needed was a moment of weakness among the enemy. While she waited she toyed with the various items handing from her bandoleer, trying to determine if her secret weapon would be effective enough in this scenario.

Kuroko could hardly focus on the well-intended lecture she was receiving from the Tessou, but was too wired with energy to not interrupt in self-defence when the criticism continued.

"-and while it's admirable that you care about your friends, that doesn't mean-"

"One of them is only here to do a favour for me, so I have to do something! And even that wasn't true, or that Saten-san may not be in immediate danger, that doesn't mean I can just wait!"

"Well, that's quite the statement." Despite herself, Tessou was starting to warm to her fiery new acquaintance. Though they talked easily the Anti-Skill officer was still scanning the doors with a pair of binoculars, expertly looking for any gaps in their enemies' vigilance. "What does this Saten-san look like again? I'll make sure you get to see her quickly when this is all over; once she's been checked out by paramedics at least." Shirai was only half paying attention, still tensely eyeballing Aiho's relaxed form.

"Well, she's my age, a little taller. A pretty young girl, with bright eyes."

"Mhm." It looked like the hostages were being cycled around again: every half hour a new group were brought down to ensure their energy remained high. Even so, it was odd to Tessou how tired the new batch looked. What else were they doing in there other than barricading the doors?

"She has long black hair, and is really very fashionable. Though I think she'd be wearing something… a little more discrete, today."

"Mhm… Hmm? Like, say, a really oversized coat, maybe a thick toque?"

"Yes, something like that."

"And... About this girl, uhm… Tell me, does she wear glasses? Or have… a moustache?"

"…What kind of a question is… **SATEN-SAN**!?"

Sure enough, pressed up to the doorway was Academy City's worst spy, fake nose and glasses bulging humorously against the doors. Her eyelids were drooping, but she retained noticeably more energy than those around her: that and her strange costume made her stand out to Tessou in the first place.

"Well! That's a coincidence, isn't… it? Where did-? -ACK! WAIT, STOP! A-AH, AIHO-SEMPAI!" Tessou's shouted warning made no difference at all. Only she could react as Kuroko appeared suddenly in the focus of her binoculars, just before the Dianoid's main entrance. Warping directly in front of her captured friend, she teleported away the entire door Saten was pressed against. It clattered to the steps behind her, but as the teleporter reached forward to grasp her friend-

-A flood of human bodies poured out with her. The judgement officer had misjudged how many people were actually holding the doors shut. Even though the doors opened by pushing out for fire-safety reasons, instead of stumbling back the press of bodies pushed Saten forward. Those behind her who had been pulling on the door handles now instead were leaning forward to see what had happened to their barricade. The two girls and a number of other shoppers spilled out onto the Dianoid's front steps, sprawled in an undignified heap. Knocked back and winded, the girl regained her feet just as the shoppers did. Instead of returning inside to their work, they turned as one to face her.

"…Stop...her…"

"Bring…Give…"

"Christmas…Save…"

"Uh-h… Oh." Kuroko had no adequate response to this development, and so looked around hurriedly for Saten. Despite being initially in front of the mob the middle-schooler had disappeared; soon that failed to matter. The group that had broken free from the mall first was moving to surround her, and all of a sudden came uncomfortably close. Teleporting back closer to the secure line of police robots Kuroko regained some space, but her pursuers were not distracted for long. Ignoring their previous goal, more shoppers from inside had joined the first outside, streaming out as one to confront the girl who had so far made the only overt move against Christmas. The terrorists inside were screaming orders to stay, but not one shopper listened: soon the doorway was left essentially unguarded. Kuroko was worried for a moment they would open fire or pour onto the steps as well, but it seemed they refused to leave the safety of the mall. It was then she noticed that, despite their strictly regimented mall uniforms, each was wearing a clearly non-regulation piece of strange jewellery.

"What the Hell?" Aiho had watched the developments with shock at first, but soon realized what they meant. She had gotten the break she was waiting for. Grasping her radio set, she barked out quick orders to her well-trained crew. "Everyone, muffs on! Team two, roll out the "Pacifier"! Brace for it!" She reached down to her belt, and unlocked the clasp holding her own pair of ear protectors. Seeing the girl was close, she hurled them towards the beleaguered judgement officer who was darting around dodging grasping hands in an effort to lead the civilians away from the doors and the armed terrorists.

"OY! JUDGEMENT! CATCH!" At Aiho's sudden shout, Kuroko whipped around. She caught the muffs deftly, though at first she was too confused to understand why. When she saw the machine that was being rushed into place, she began to don them in a hurry.

6 transport robots had been loaded with a massive set of speakers, dwarfing the nearby security vehicles. Nearly a story tall each, they had somehow been hidden in an alley, away from detection. Though she had heard of Project: Pacifier in various Judgement meetings, Kuroko was neither aware it had finished testing nor appreciative of its true scale. She did know what it was capable of: subsonic vibrations of sound waves so detrimental to the human ear that anyone it was pointed at fell insensible to the ground. It overloaded both their balance and interrupted their ability to think coherently, though it was more than just impressive volume at work. It was in fact much quieter than the traditional rock-concert; it was merely tuned to the precious oscillations needed to incapacitate the human ear-drum. Harmless in the long term, it was an ideal crowd-control weapon in theory, and the earmuffs described in the report were supposed to not merely block but actually cancel out its sound waves entirely, leaving officers unaffected. Kuroko began earnestly praying that was true.

Slipping on her pair with a dire expression, she watched in awe as Aiho leapt onto one of the robots bearing the beastly machine, shouting once again into the megaphone. As a Calvary office would lead her platoon into a victory charge, she swung her free hand like a sabre straight at the confused mass of shoppers and terrorists. "All-right! **LET 'EM HAVE IT!"**

!~~~~~~~~!

"Ooooh… W-wow… That's a worse buzz-kill than Komoe's happy-fun-time-mystery-mixed drinks… Uugh…" Though Aiho attempted to stand she was held down by Tessou, who was equal parts indignant and worried.

"Aiho-sempai! What were you thinking! I-I mean, I respect giving your protection to that girl, b-but then why did you jump up right next-"

"Oh, it's fine. It's rated for use on civilians, I'm okay." _Though I probably should have remained on ground level. My ass is killing me…_ Rubbing her wounded pride openly Aiho quickly assessed the situation. "...I guess they had some sort of counter measure. How, though? They shouldn't have expected the Pacifier…"

"I-I don't think they did." Tessou shook her head uncertainly, surveying the scene in front of the Dianoid. "I saw it: it worked on all of them, terrorist or civilian. But one woman managed to get up after a few seconds. She got to the security switch and threw down the carbon security shutters that they had left opened before, and now they're sealed off. Our forces didn't have time to enter the mall or stop her; we didn't expect her to just stand up during all that." [4]

"I bet that was our friend Joy Sergeant. But how… Well, it doesn't matter. We've taken the initiative. I guess you organized the squads in retrieving the civilians?" Aiho was referring to the various officers who were running back and forth from the Dianoid's steps, ferrying away the still dazed shoppers. Each of them seemed to be even more frazzled than expected. The Pacifier's effects had already worn off on Aiho, but the afflicted shoppers remained barely conscious. They were quickly being removed from the area; it seemed like at this entrance at least every innocent had made it out. Or at least, suspected innocents.

"Yes, and we've already begun the interview process. So far they just seem confused and tired, perhaps a little sickly. They don't know why they were helping the attack, or even that they did. It's strange all right…" Though Tessou remained worried, her senior partner shrugged indifferently.

"Well, at least that saves a lot of paperwork. This isn't some thousand person conspiracy…"

"Right... But the terrorists got away: they all remained inside so we still don't have a major lead."

"Huh. Well, I'm not too surprised. Sergeant runs a tight ship. But I'm going to have to find out how she can counter our new toy, once we drill our way in."

"Right, I've got D team assembling the robot as we speak."

"Any word from the other entrances?"

"Yes: it seems the enemy strategy of using the hostages has ended. All the shutters are down now, and our other 5 teams are setting their drilling rigs up as well."

"Good. That means it's time to make our move. They lost their advantage, so we can go back to doing this my way. We'll bust in and fire up all six pacifiers in each entrance: if only Sergeant is immune, it'll still break them completely. …Say, where is that judgement girl? I'm going to need my ear-muffs back."

"Oh? Good question, she should be… I left her next to her friend, I thought? Where…"

!~~~~~~~~!

"God damn Anti-Skill…" The thug was pounding the side of his head with an open palm, still trying to dislodge the feeling the Pacifier had left on him. "That was a dirty trick. I want to just lie down and nap this all away…"

"Get up, Miller." Despite her rough tone Sergeant extended a hand to her teammate. Once he was on his feet, he looked at her appraisingly.

"I've got to say, Sarge; you're still the toughest woman I've ever seen. How they hell did you get to the security switch during all that? I couldn't even cry for my mother!"

"I'm used to blocking out annoying sounds from working with knuckleheads like you lot. Now, get back with the others: I need you to coordinate the secondary defensive line."

"Right, sir. B-but what about...?" Sergeant followed the man's worried gaze to the prone body next to him. His commanding officer raised an eyebrow, trying to remember who this particular new hire was.

"What's her... Onoe, or something? Anyway, what happened, I see no blood… Wait, did she lose her safety-necklace, or whatever these things are called?"

"Yeah, I think it flew off somewhere in the chaos, but I can't find it."

"I don't have a spare. Get someone else to take care of it. She'll be fine for a few minutes, it's her own damn fault."

"Yes Sergeant." He saluted and dashed off to the other end of the entryway, joining the crew setting up temporary barriers. They had been prepared in case the front doors were breached, but they were always a back-up plan. Instead of watching, Sergeant stood facing the blank gray slate of carbon before her which held Anti-Skill back.

 _Damn it, Aiho. That little stunt means our time frame is going to get a lot tighter. This shutter won't hold an hour, and then it'll be a shootout down here for sure. And why the Hell did those magicians have to demand all the shoppers head upstairs?_ _I get they were rattled with my initial call about them being fingered as criminals, but they shouldn't have taken those hostages away from us now! We need them here if we want to even pretend to stall!_ Her frustration rising, she resisted the urge to slam the barricade before her with a gloved fist. Instead she turned and stalked away. _At least I learned those expensive implants have more use than I thought: being able to enhance my hearing and sight was worth the cost, but who would have thought I'd ever want to just turn my senses off?_ _And I'm really impressed at the software: those nerds weren't kidding. I would be screwed if my fail-safe had kicked in during all that commotion. Speaking of which, I suppose it's time to start thinking about my other backups..._

She passed the line of guards who were busily assembling their defences, even now considering the potential value of the information she had on Anti-Skill's new sonic weapon. Though she still fully expected this heist to succeed, she had already begun running through her worst case contingencies. Through all the chaos and confusion, she was confident she could be prepared for any eventuality.

!~~~~~~~~!

"Shiari-san? S-shirai-san!? **SHIRIIIIAAAA-** "

"A-Agh! C-cut it out, I can hear you! I'm fine! Stop blowing out my eardrums, Uiharu-san!"

"B-b-but you s-suddenly stopped responding! I-I was worried-"

"Don't worry. I think I figured out another part of what's going on." The teleporter was inside the main lobby of the Dianoid, already behind the defensive line the fake security forces had set up. She had found a large display full of Christmas flowers, taller than see was and twice as wide. There she crouched, lost in thought. As she fondled the black lump handing around her neck, Kuroko's continued to explain. "Did you catch anything odd about the terrorists on the Anti-Skill video feeds?"

"W-well, they were all wearing Dianoid Mall uniform, and they stayed mostly inside. There wasn't enough to isolate any identities, but-"

"They were all wearing these strange necklaces. Here, I'll send you a quick picture." Kuroko's phone flashed dimly in the well-lit hallway, and soon Uiharu had an image on her monitor. [7]

"That's... an interesting... That's not... What is that? It looks like... Coal?"

"I think it is. It just rubbed off on my fingers a bit. Ech." Wiping her hand daintily on the carbon floor, the girl left her new prize to fall heavily against her chest. "I don't get this at all, but since only the guards were wearing them I guessed they somehow kept them immune. Can you think of any chemical properties that coal might have in this scenario? Perhaps it's hiding some sort of counter-transmitter..." Her hand began idling digging into the surface of the pendent when Uiharu's voice blasted over her connection again.

"Don't tamper with it! That could be the only thing keeping you from being like-"

"Yeah, yeah. You're right. Now, let's see... What next..." Though Kuroko acknowledged the advice, the officer on the other end of the line wasn't finished. She completely spoke over the teleporter's musing, venting her frustration.

"-and anyway, Shirai-san, you know better! This is a bad idea! You can't just go in there like this! You'll get us both in trouble, and it's too dangerous without a proper plan!" Uiharu's anxious voice buzzed waspishly through Kuroko's earpiece, but the latter was already too invested in her infiltration to care. Crouching behind her potted plant, she watched the terrorists recover for a moment before porting deeper into the Dianoid.

"If they find out, I'll just tell them I miscalculated and teleported inside. Then I had to stay in, as it was too dangerous to go back out. It's not like they'd want me to fight terrorists just to escape, so they'll have to understand."

"You're a level 4 teleporter, Shirai-san! They're not going to believe that story! You wouldn't mistake the inside of the largest carbon structure in the world for the street outside!"[6]

"Well, it's too late now to worry. We already took care of Saten-san: she's in good hands. Now my Onee-sama needs me, I know it! Can you get me a floor plan-"

"It's already on your handheld. I uploaded after I heard the chatter on the Anti-Skill line explode from your attack. I expected this to happen; you always just rush in without a plan. Really, Shirai-san, do you even know where Misaka-san might be?"

"Uhm… Right near the centre of the trouble? I'm sure I'd find her fast enough." Hearing her colleague's accurate but essentially useless response, Uiharu sighed deeply and leaned back in her office chair. But instead of despairing, she quickly outlined her own thoughts on the matter: she truly had been busy.

"Given her abilities and personality, along with the circumstances of a hostage situation, I'd imagine she would try force a conflict where there is the largest collection of conductive or metallic materials. Since the Dianoid has no appreciable internal support structures of metal, that leaves two options. The various parking garages and a large display room filled with vehicles and other big steel objects."

"Great work! The parking garages we know are clear, thanks to Anti-Skill's reports, so that leaves the display room. And that's on… floor 34? AND 36? I forgot how big this place is… well, time to hurry! Thanks, Uiharu-san. I'll keep you updated."

"R-roger. And be careful, this is a sneaking mission now! …Well, I guess I'll cover our electronic tracks. It looks like these terrorists were locked out of the internal monitoring systems, but…"

With that, a certain amorous judgement officer and her long-suffering partner started the hunt for their second mutual friend.

!~~~~~~~~!

5 minutes later 11:16 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid Shopping Centre, 32nd Floor: Pets and pet accessories, level 2.

"At least we are back on schedule, master. The influx of workers means we should reach critical density soon."

"Yes, yes. But it'd be nice if we could get past this floor. They keep getting distracted, and we just got here. It's worse than the floor with all those HD displays…" Amazo's mental weariness was evident over the radio from the floor below her, as he eyed the latest pair of shoppers gawking in wonder at a cage of exotic birds. "Please, yes, I know! The Cockatoo **is** a beautiful creature! However, admiring it is not going to help Christmas, is it? So please, yes, thank you, now, right over there…"

While her teacher continued to direct his various peons, Miss Baker ended her transmission and carried onto clearing the floor above him. She ignored the anxious barking and hissing of the animals in their pens, abandoned by the store clerks who had fled hours ago. They ranged from reptiles to exotic fish and even large exotic cats: pets that would normally have been impossible to get paperwork or permission to own were made practical by the sheer amount of money involved at the Dianoid. Each of these creatures had been even more agitated by the commotion which Miss Baker had recently ended. It was the latest in a string of raids by unaffected shoppers and staff, coordinated somewhere up above in the unaffected floors. Ever since the first successful attack by that young man, groups of various sizes had tried their luck rescuing loved ones or breaking through the enemy lines to freedom. Yet every attempt was equally hopeless: now that the magician's assistant was prepared they had all met in failure. At first they were simply too tired and worn down by the spell that they couldn't effectively fight, but later on she found more and more groups lying prone on the ground: they were unable to even get close to her before feeling too weak to carry on. Their bodies and those reinforcements pulled from the entrances below had sped up the Spirit of Christmas considerably. Beyond that, having a larger portion of the Dianoid influenced by its magical field did more than just strengthen it. The radius was beginning to reach further upwards than before, higher and higher towards the upper floors, through the solid carbon that impeded its rise. Despite all this her opponents were learning, now trying to lay tripwires or barricade entire hallways rather than provoke a direct fight. It was the best possible approach, but not nearly good enough to counter Miss Baker's magic.

Just to be safe, she remained a floor above her master to patrol for any further heroism. There was always the chance more immune espers might show up. They did not worry her, for it was not going to be long until even they couldn't matter: either the spell would be ready for activation before they attacked, or its secondary consequences would come into play while they tried. Despite her confidence she remained vigilant, keeping a particular eye out for a certain spiky haired boy who had rubbed her the wrong way. So when she rounded the last corner of her tour for this particular floor she smiled in grim satisfaction.

"Good. I was waiting for this." She dipped her hand into a small, decorative pocket on her leotards hip, and somehow pulled a thin square panel of some grey material. There was no way it could have fit inside her clothing even folded yet somehow it came out easily. She held it out at arm's length to her side, only lightly supporting it with her fingertips. Touma steeled his nerves, and braced himself for an attack even as he prepared to negotiate.

"Listen, you need to stop this! You have to know this is wrong-!" The tile in her hand was suddenly replaced by a massive slab of carbon, which began to crash to the ground next to her.

"Keep talking." Just as suddenly, Touma felt his feet hanging over empty air and the floor below him. He barely managed to get an arm around the huge floor tile in front of him after the one directly beneath his feet had vanished. "…It makes you a better target." She took out from her pocket several more of the smaller carbon squares, planning to cut off any safe retreat while the boy scrambled for firm footing. However, Instead of standing his ground Touma bolted, away and up a nearby stair case. [7] "Oh. Well, that also works for me." Giving chase at a leisurely jog, she pursued the boy first up one then another flight.

The hallways she had been used to for the last 30 floors opened up on this next landing. They were replaced with a large chamber. The stairs had led her up to one corner of the Dianoid's hexagonal perimeter on this level: the area about their exit was clear for about 20 feet on all side. Towards the centre there were a few scattered paths and a wall of tents: the outer wall held stores with hastily shuttered windows and displayed. She knew from their advance planning that this room was here, but even so it was intimidatingly large: the ceiling alone was cavernous, and she could only just see the top of the Christmas tree which marked the very middle. That was why Miss Baker paused, and spent a moment to think why the boy had fled here. If it was just to hide, why lure her out in the first place? Where they trying to stall or distract her? She glanced around in care.

That was when she saw the shadow of the tractor sailing through air towards her.

Having no appropriate object to substitute either it or herself with, she dove from the stairs onto the landing proper. Behind her the huge vehicle crashed into a smoking lump, but it was soon joined by first another then several other different objects. Their only shared features: being heavy, awkward, and made of metal.

"There! That oughta plug up your escape." Baker's head whip around at the girl standing confidently upon a nearby tent pole, lighting crackling dangerously around her brow. "I know how your substitution thing works, more or less: Bet it'll take a while to clear 50 of so differently-shaped objects, huh? I've got more if that's not enough, here and on the other exits." Her smug satisfaction was rewarded with a momentary hiss of anger from the assistant, but both their expressions quickly subsided. Instead of panicking Baker stood up carefully, facing the esper and the boy, Kamijou Touma, who stood inside the tent the girl mounted with his fist raised threateningly. Frowning softly, she spoke.

"…They're well prepared. I'm going to need help."

"Hmm? We're right here you know, and you're all alone…" Touma watched on in confusion as the woman they had trapped reached down to her pocket revealing a small toy doll holding a thin stick. That was when he remembered the small collar radios the magician's had worn during their act. "Wait, those still work all the way up here?"

"Eh? What you are you planning, you bimbo? If you just surrender, we won't have to-!" Mikoto's offer was cut off as the simple blonde-haired doll, dressed in solid black, was replaced by a familiar face now bristling in anger under a rather jaunty Santa hat.

"Once again, Kamijou Touma, you prove a considerable hindrance to our goals. I, the Amazing Amazo, will end that now! Ahaha-HAH!"

For the second time in less than a month, a fight for the Dianoid had begun.

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] Carefully avoiding the bits involving felony stalking.

[2] See NT 3. This connection was planned for a while, but I had to make it not entirely obvious what was going on. And you still don't have all the details yet… OOOOH MYSTERY!

[3] Basically whether or not they'd be in debt or not. The implication here is that they are. Also, I've very proud of that waiving/waving pun. So smooth.

[4] If you're wondering why they didn't just slam them shut right away, it was to show off the hostages continuously. The shutters were always planned as a back-up to stall for time on the criminal's part.

[5] If you think it's a bit of a stretch that from a few seconds long glance Shirai caught onto the necklaces, I put forth that she **is** a very smart and observant law officer. She also takes gambles on hunches, so even if she didn't understand what it could mean she thought to steal one and find out. People may have noted how in the beginning of their section, Uiharu was freaking out. This was because Kuroko nearly passed out just seconds before while talking: if the latter hadn't expected to be mind-controlled or something without the pendant she never would have put it on in time. It wasn't included in the text because I wanted the dramatic moment. I honestly thought it would be harder for the teleporter to get her way and barge into the Dianoid, but then she took this rather obvious chance and surprised even me. (I'm really not her **biggest** fan, but I can respect her where she shines.) Besides, the necklaces parallel the ear protection she still has, so she had a reason to think it might offer similar protection.

[6] I'm assuming two things: that the Dianoid is indeed the record holder, and that teleporters have some 12 dimensional way of perceiving where they will go before they jump. Her excuse is a bad one, even if both facts are wrong, and she knows it.

[7] Here comes one of the bits I had planned which NT13 used in a similar theme. It might already be obvious, but try and guess how if not! It'll be partially revealed in a few more paragraphs. There are still a few more ideas that will be similar, but that's not until a fair bit later…

[8] I really wanted to have double digit footnotes, too... Oh well. This is an extra note by the way; it doesn't connect to anything in the text. I can't justify two more of these, so this is what you get. Big note: I realize my Dianoid is probably too big, based on the weight given in the Books, but I also realized that weight makes little sense anyway unless the Dianoid is about 300 square feet a floor. (After doing to basic math in my head, I came to this conclusion). Anyway, see you next time!

[9] Ooh! I got one more. I wanted to take a moment to explain my naming conventions, to see if they have made sense. If you're wondering, I've stuck to the following: first names for main characters, or those who appear in their own stories (Touma, Mikoto, Last Order, etc), and last names for all else unless the person shares a last name (My two new characters are siblings, after all. To this rule, Kuroko is an exception: I don't know why, but using her first name just seemed to fit better). In terms of naming in dialogue, I try to use what is most in character based on the situation and speakers, but frankly I'm pretty lazy about doing the needed research to get that perfect. I've already received a few helpful tips on this front, and I'm always excited for more. Regardless, I hope the little slip ups I make don't detract from the point of this little adventure: to tell the most engaging story possible. For real now: See you next time!


	19. Part 1: Chapter 16

**Hey everyone! This is going to be a short intro. I've got to run right after uploading this.**

 **Get ready for a rumble! And the best action-narration I can manage. I hope it flows well enough to follow.**

 **Note that this chapter, the long blocks of speech are intentional, both for effect and a hidden reason that I think is revealed this chapter or next. Last time I had no excuse, I just didn't consider how long winded Kuroko could be when trying to be thorough.**

 **Also... There were actually 2 Metal Gear references last chapter. I just couldn't resist when they came to me. I probably need to get better impulse control about that sort of thing...**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy the latest chapter!**

 **Chapter 16**

11:22 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid floor 34-36: The Diamond Display Multi-Level Showcase

Four sets of eyes stared each other down in varying degrees of frustration. The most affected was Mikoto, whose well-executed plan to isolate the magicians was faltering. The sparks already dancing about her in an aura only spread further. They crackled up and down her limbs, but were most concentrated around her head, building up static charge in her hair that she fought to ignore.

"Guh!? B-but, I thought you said that he'd need to focus on his spell! How can he fight now, up here!?" Her waving arms rocked the tent that supported her, and the boy inside made a rapid exit fearing an imminent collapse.

"I don't know! He should be the cause of it all, with that thing around his neck… It's continuous, so he must still be casting it!" Though he turned his head up to face the girl and defend his reasoning, Touma was forced to renew his focus on the magician as he gave a hearty laugh.

"You really don't know a lot about magic, do you, Kamijou Touma? And being so skilled at dispelling it…" Shaking his head in wonderment, he slowly walked towards the pair of teens, staff balanced carefully in his left hand. The other was as always gripping what hung hidden around his neck. "Even after Miss Baker did her research, I can barely believe it. I suppose being out of contact with the greater magical world has always had its consequences, good and ill. I certainly noticed World War 3's religious influences; Gremlin as well. But to hear **you** were at the centre of both and more trouble besides? If I had known someone like you was here tonight, I would have just waited until the 27th to attempt this. To think, fabled Imagine Breaker, active on the world stage and now before me… " With a shrug, he paused in his approach to slam his staff to the ground. "Well, we are uniquely suited among magicians to dealing with its… irregularities. You will not stop us."

"I don't care what you say! We're going to stop you, even if we don't really understand your spell!" Defiant as always, Touma dropped into a familiar pose. "Clench your jaw, Amazo, because none of that matters! If you think you could ever justify this kind attack, using the Christmas season and all these people to suit your needs… I will destroy that screwed up illusion of yours!" His words twisted a hard grimace from the Magician, whose eyes narrowed in anger.

"There is nothing wrong with illusions, as long as they are appropriately applied. Still, it does not matter: I will not be denied." For a second he relinquished his staff: it remained standing on its end in perfect balance. With his now free hand he pulled back the sleeve from his other, revealing a simple tattoo of text near his wrist. "Prodigiosus210. That is my true name. You understand what that means, right, boy?" Touma was well aware that revealing one's magical name was the universal sign for throwing down the gauntlet in the magical world. Mikoto, however, took him literally.

"Latin for wondrous? Maybe miraculous … Oh, I get it. Amazing. But why the number…?"

"Since you ask so nicely…" Amazo covered up his signifier again and regained his staff. "It shows that there were 219 others before me sharing my goal, inspiring a legacy. Magicians with this name vow to bring back the remarkable to the world, to erase the mundane and inspire real faith in miracles in the lives of every-day people. I assume you have not run into one named so before, have you?" Their silence prompted a sad smile. "I thought not. It is essentially extinct in the Catholic denominations you have been associated with. It has a focus on the beauty of the world itself and the strength of the human spirit: those are far more Protestant sentiments than Catholic, are they not?"

"P-protestant? I don't get it, who is protesting anything?" Touma's confused muttering went unheeded, for it seemed Amazo had decided his enemies needed one last performance. Mikoto was getting anxious to start the fight, surprisingly tired from her recent ordeals. Yet however much she wanted to get things over with, she decided it would pay to better understand who and what she was dealing with first. In her experience, the more an enemy talked, the more likely they were to say some stupid. Though she listened, Mikoto kept a watchful eye on Miss Baker, who seemed just as wound up and ready for action. As the two girls glared at each other, the magician himself went on, genuinely surprised at Touma's ignorance.

"Are you really… Tell me, do you have any knowledge of the Treaty and its Breakers?" Seeing the boy's blank expression, Amazo merely shook his head in wonderment. "Well, I will make this brief. Magic and science agreed, centuries ago, to not infringe on the other's tools: conflict was fine, but crossing that line was not. This restriction proved the final straw for some Catholic magicians, leading to the splintering of several sects in protest. As per the Treaty's stipulations these groups were hunted down by both sides for decades, but could never be fully extinguished. [1] Of course, that all ended with the truce and ceasefire declared by Magic and Science some years ago, but I will not bore you with unneeded history. Merely know that, driven to the edge of magical society until recently, Protestant magicians have made do without world-wide ambitions but instead seek smaller and more individual goals. Yes, my faith is one of self-motivated worth, struggling to understand the divine in a personal way. That is how the Spirit of Christmas works, you see." For the first time, Amazo revealed what dangled around his neck. It was a very simple crucifix, polished silver and glowing with latent power. "This is merely a focus for my skills. Have either of you figured it out yet? Please, do not make me reveal all my secrets: at least try to entertain me." Though Touma remained silent, Mikoto answered the challenge.

"It's not exactly mind control or hypnosis, we know that. But the people it affects, it makes them perceive things differently… You've convinced them all that they're doing something they believe is good, haven't you? That's why they keep going on about Christmas! What are you making them see and hear!? You're not forcing them to believe a lie or act according to your whims; you're creating an illusion to trick them!"

"Well well. And it is the esper who comes closest. A very astute observation, no doubt gathered through careful analysis of the evidence." Amaza seemed honestly impressed, but he wasn't about to have the spotlight taken from him. "Do not think all magicians despise science and technology: we Protestants recognize it as not just a useful tool but also another part of the blessed world. Either way, you are not quite right. I wield the power of self-suggestion, working through another's beliefs and desires. All Magic is faith based in one way or another, you see. Whether it is faith in your dreams, your God, your folklore and culture, your lusts or your own senses, Magic is powered by the human capacity to expect it to work despite what reality would say. I build that power up in others, and manipulate its course. Of course, it is nearly impossible to work any significant magic without some religious or cultural component to organize around, but that is neither here nor there: Christmas suits my needs just fine."

"…Wait, so that means you're not actually powering this spell?" Touma finally understood why the magicians did not seem completely drained: though tired, Amazo was no worse than anyone would be after climbing many stairs and walking for a few hours. To cast his spell for so long would have completely drained almost any magician the boy could name, if not worse. Nodding, his opponent continued.

"Precisely! Well done. No, I provide only the initial impetus and the mould for it flow into. It's like starting an avalanche: if you have the right situation and circumstances, inertia will do all the work for you."

"So the decorations… even the performance beforehand…! They were all just preparation so people would believe you were capable of something unexplainable?"

"Almost: they had to believe not just in me, but in themselves and the world about them as well. I first mix stage magic with real magic, powered by my own faith and skill, to convince the masses. I assume now you understand part of the role the candies played? Among other characteristics, they amplify what I can do with the Spirit of Christmas… a marvellous little property that certain chemicals have on the brain. With both I can access and build up the latent desire of others to believe in something wonderful: who better to tap into that nearly universal trait than a stage magician? **This** is why Protestantism is the future of religious magic! I need no group to support me, like the Catholic denominations, because the whole world is my audience and my ally as we fight to against the baseness of reality. You understand how individualistic magicians are: my training allows me to work independently as few can. Of course, we all have connections of some kind. I have a protégé as an assistant and have associated with a few like-minded magicians in the past, but not more than that. Others have done less. Though a few of us are organized in small cabals, there are no major Protestant groups to speak of. Do you understand us now?"

While this explanation wore on, Mikoto was learning the limits of her patience. Resisting the urge to yawn and check her broken phone's clock, she instead drummed her fingers along a forearm. _This guy sure loves to boast a lot. And seriously, why does every damn villain feel the need to explain their life story!? Unless they somehow get my sympathy, I'd rather just zap'em and be done with it! Agh…_ She realized she was losing track of the time, and refocused her energies on watched Miss Baker, the one whom she personally considered far more dangerous.

Meanwhile, Touma's limited knowledge of Christianity had failed him utterly: he vaguely knew that some small sects had splintered off from the core churches over the centuries, but they were small and he had yet to run into them in his adventures. He had even fewer interactions with American and western culture in general, so he tried to phrase his hesitant understanding with a metaphor that Amazo would likely be familiar with. "So, Protestants… are like the Sith? From _Star Wars_?"[2]

"Yes, exactly."

The short pause deepened as Touma's comparison sunk in.

"Wait, **what**!? **NO**! I mean, no, I'm NOT- we're NOT like **Sith**!" Despite an initially passionate denial, Amazo was forced to reconsider after further reflection. "W-well, I mean, the master –apprentice thing has some parallels. And the Catholics do still treat us the like the dark-side of religion… Damn prudes, they've done far more harm than any of us to the world! Just because we appreciate a lack of strict hierarchy and don't want to bow subservience to a pointless treaty and an addled old pope who's less holy than my socks, it's not like-"

" **Master**."

"H-hmm? Oh. Uh. Thank you, Miss Baker. Nearly… Nearly forgot myself." He straightened his collar, which had somehow gotten askew in his sudden tirade. He also replaced the cross he wore, hiding it again within the folds of his shirt. "Regardless! You still do not understand nearly enough to stop us. This was an amusing diversion, but I no longer care to stall. We can finish this plan now."

 _Stall? But they're both here and Mikoto blocked all the ways further upstairs as well: they couldn't possibly be transporting more gifts to floors above us, and the affected shoppers are all stuck below us! I don't think his assistant's magic works well enough to get them around that without them all being next to her… So what do they mean?_ Touma's thoughts had to be cut short, for he could tell their opponents were readying their spells. A strange light surrounded them both, emanating from Amazo's closed hand and Miss Baker's entire body. "Misaka! Any luck?" He didn't even look up.

"No, no good." _That cross of his is real silver all right, through and through: No pulling it out into the open with magnetism. Even the chain is nearly pure… At least we cut them off from the shoppers._ "Looks like plan C is next. Are you ready?" From her vantage point she plotted her next few steps in advance, trying to predict how her enemies would act. Let them try to make a move, and then counter with either mobility or quick strikes. She was confident she had both the power to muscle through them and the stamina to outlast them, even if she still felt a little drained. But Touma's response threw all that thought out the window.

"…Uhm, which one is that again-"

"Are you serious…? Run up AND **PUNCH** HIM, YOU IDIOT! I've got the woman covered, remember!?"

"Oh! Right!" _I thought that was plan E… Oh well, as long as she's got it organized._ He darted forward, but paused to glance up at his partner behind him. "Oi… Be careful, Misaka. She looks dangerous."

"A-ah…I-I can handle m-myself! Just go a smack him a few times or something! **Sheesh**!" She blushed, but couldn't really pretend to be unhappy about his concern. Recognizing it, Touma grinned before continuing his dash. As he ran, Mikoto balanced herself carefully on the tent pole, waiting to see what either magician would do.

As she predicted, Amazo moved aside and to the right of the clearing, trying to create some space between himself and the dangerous Imagine Breaker by finding a better battleground. His assistant was already reaching into her strange pocket, likely to support her mentor in some way. But before she could complete the motion Miss Baker was forced to pause. She heard a horrible crunching noise behind her as entire cart of luxury meats was pulled by magnetism at her exposed back. Reflexes narrowly saving her, Miss Baker quickly dashed away from the clearing, escaping between two tents opposite from Amazo and Touma. Mikoto decided she wasn't about to let that happen.

"Oh no you don't!" The cart wasn't the only bit of metal nearby: though mainly aluminum and plastic the various tent pieces were mostly held together by iron bolts. It was the work of seconds to collapse the two opposing structures into each other, trapping the struggling Miss Baker in between tangled canvass and rope. She snarled in fury as Mikoto approached, fighting vainly to escape, her efforts not slowing even as the esper stood triumphantly over the fallen magicians. "Hah! People just love to underestimate- **WAGH**!?" A number of claws tore through the fabric right next to the girl's foot, followed quickly by viciously drooling jaws snapping at her legs. Leaping back in animal terror, Mikoto sent a series of quick shocks into the surprising new foe, waiting until it stilled before breathing again. "The Hell!? Was that!?" The paw that had been flailing before finally fell limp to the ground: from the furry black muzzle, the creature looked like some terrifyingly massive cat. "A-a **panther**!? Why!? Why **that!?** " _Why is this sort of crap even in the Dianoid!?_ _That can't be legal!_ It soon became clear that Miss Baker was nowhere to be seen, but as the esper looked about she heard a mocking laugh.

"So, little girl: can you figure out that trick?" The assistant was standing atop a nearby tent deeper within the display floor, mimicking Mikoto's earlier confident entry. The woman quickly jumped off to its rear, disappearing deeper into the maze of displays.

"Why you-! …That's it! No more Miss-Nice-Railgun!" She lifted the whole wall of tents between her and the target bodily into the air and over behind her back, using the momentum gained to launch herself forwards. _I know she's leading me away from her boss, but I'm the one with the traps planned. Besides…_ The embarrassed rage she felt quickly turned to cool satisfaction. _This is still exactly what we wanted!_

!~~~~~~~~!

Touma only needed to chase Amazo a short distance, just the length of one of the Dianoid's six sides. When he rounded the last bend of the pathway he saw the man stopped in a second clearing, next to a different set of stairs. True to her word, Mikoto had already blocked this one with another massive pile of debris. The Magician sighed and tapped it with his staff, shaking his head. "This is going to be dangerous to clear. They'll have to work slowly. Perhaps Miss Baker could…"

"Who's they? Ah, never mind! L-look, Amazo, why are you-"

"Enough. I will not be lectured to." Heedless of any parlay, Amazo launched into another monologue. "You know, I'm not too surprised the Spirit of Christmas doesn't work on you at all. Its general effect relies on making the entire body believe it is Christmas night, meaning it also has to target that right hand of yours. The candies affect the mind only and are not even supernatural to begin with, but they do almost nothing without the magic. Tell me, can you guess why the spell works like that?"[3]

"Honestly? No. But-" Touma was again swiftly ignored, as if the magician had never expected an answer in the first place.

"On that holy night, people believe they must sleep soundly, to avoid being awake when presents are distributed, even as they eagerly anticipate it so much they lie in bed. It is also that moment when the saviour is supposed to have been born, ignoring little details like actual history and such. All that my spell does is to amplify those important beliefs and their associated feelings. The candies are both the key to and a counter measure of the Spirit of Christmas: if you are too sleepy, you cannot do the season's work. They provide extra energy alongside affecting the user's brain chemistry, keeping their users awake and providing the last bit of suggestive control the spell doesn't offer. Unfortunately, even they cannot completely counteract the Spirit of Christmas, meaning those affected remained sluggish. Sluggish but very, very pliant."

"Sure, sure! Thanks for explaining, I'll pass that along to Misaka or Index or someone. Okay! Now, let's just get this fight start-"

"For you see, that feeling of tiredness gets too strong on both the night of Christmas itself and adjacent holidays days, due to the intense belief the holiday generates: that is why this day, the 23rd, and the 27th were our two best chances. Boosted by the proximity of the holiday season, but not so strong it would overload and harm those affected."

"…M-maybe? Okay, I guess? Look, how about we-"

"Yes, but there is no longer an option to use the secondary day! Too many people have been made aware of tonight's activities: it is now or never! And I will have my vengeance, I assure you. You have stopped nothing!" Watching the man catch his breath, Touma finally saw a chance. He was getting increasingly frustrated with being cut off.

"Vengeance? Please just hold on a second, now I'm just confused again…! **AGH** , wait, **NO**! I don't really care about any of that! Seriously, can I not get a word in edgewise? That's so-"

" **NOW, Kamijou Touma**! This is a magic-"

"- **AGH!** Come on, It's **MY** job to monologue-"

"-that your hand has no bearing on! Witness my power!" The cross around his neck glowed in Amazo's hand, and the spiky haired boy helplessly watched the world spin into a formless maelstrom of colours and sound.

"Kh! Tch, w-what?" Soon the world resolved itself, and Touma found himself...

"…B-back home? What!? When!?" He sat upright in bed, blinking furiously.

The morning sun was peering through a cold morning sky between the buildings that surrounded his apartment. Sphynx mewed piteously by his pillow, rolling onto its back for a scratch which the befuddled boy absentmindedly provided. "Wh…when did I…" Slowly standing up he took stock of his surroundings. Sure enough, sitting on the counter was the homework he had half-finished the night before, and the manga he had been reading instead remained on the same page he had left it. _Didn't I finish that story already? I mean, didn't that demon finally get… this is weird_. Reaching for the phone on his desk, he flipped it open to reveal the date and time.

The clock read late morning, December 23rd. His evening at the Dianoid and all the events of that day had not yet happened.

"…Whoa. T-that was all… Huh. **I thought it a** ll seemed a little odd for a magical attack." Shaking his head slowly in disbelief, he remained glued to the inexplicable display as he crossed to his bathroom. Then suddenly he stopped. "Wait. I know I've forgotten something... Where's In- **INDEX!? STOP!"**

Glancing up, the boy barely managed to avoid the first two deadly swings of the mop brandished with alarming intensity by a certain magical girl. " **TOOOOOUUUUU-MAA**!" Index spun it around and over her head like a trained warrior, screaming out his name like a battle-cry. "You were in the bed!? Y-y-you p-pervert! YOU BETTER FEED ME, RIGHT NOW! Breakfast Breakfast **Breakfast**! Or I'll scramble **your** eggs!"

"H-hey! Calm down! AGH! This is excessive-WHARGH-even for you! Please, hold on-!" The boy stumbled back, but realized his balcony was the only thing left behind him. The girl pressed her attack, oblivious to any long term consequences of maiming the one who fed her. Falling to the ground he watched with horror as Index made an impossible leap, clearing the room in one mighty bound towards her prey. It was all too unreal: she was really out for blood this time. _W-wait! This doesn't make… OH, DAMN IT! Of course!_ Cursing his own trusting nature, he quickly slapped his right hand to his cheek before rolling away from the attack. There was nowhere to go. On one side the bed and the other the coffee table. Yet as he made his doomed escape attempt-

-The Dianoid returned the instant as Imagine Breaker rang out, and Amazo's staff slammed forcefully where Touma had been seconds before. Clambering to his feet a short distance away the boy tentatively removed his hand while the magician looked up, puzzled.

"That's strange… why would you be expecting an attack in your own room…? You should have been off your guard." Wiping the sweat from his brow Touma could only sigh, grateful that the lesser of the two nightmares was the real one.

"You don't know what it's like to room with Index… A-and besides, that illusion made no sense! Why would I be sleeping in bed!? It was easy to tell it was a trick, I k-knew from the start!" While Touma bluffed pointlessly, Amazo was still trying to determine what his scenario had failed to account for.

"What? Not in your bed? Why wouldn't… you know, it doesn't matter. I've learned what I needed to. I have you right where I want you." The confident grin on his enemy's face renewed the boy's worries. It seems that Index wasn't the biggest obstacle he'd have to overcome in this battle.

"A-ah…W-what now?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"I've got you right where I want you!" Mikoto had chased her quarry around in a big loop: she managed to prevent the woman from fleeing directly to the centre of the massive arena and instead cornered her inside a cheesy shooting game of skill, just next to a small rest area in a food court. Large racks of plush toys were hanging all around and inside the carnival game awning and entrance, whose main barricade Miss Baker had just leapt over to escape deeper inside. There she stood in front of the many artificial targets, providing a tempting one herself. Mikoto flicked open her bag of tokens and readied one for an attack. "I've been looking forward to this ever since you were on stage with h- I MEAN, u-uh…" Momentarily thrown by her own choice of words, she could only watch as Miss Baker faded before her eyes into the air. "Ack! D-DAMN it, I can't believe I… H-huh?" The self-admonition had to wait, for Mikoto had noticed something disturbing happening to the toys that ringed the game's entrance.

The arms of a stuffed bear, about 2 feet tall, had begun twitching. It was only sporadic at first, like a half dead-insect. Soon their shaking intensified, and it spread to its neighbours, then every other toy on the rack regardless of shape or size. Within seconds the first toy had ripped itself from its moorings. It at first flopped to ground, but soon with a disturbing and lifeless lurch wrenched upright. Its glossy eyes were dead and cold, yet it began to stroll towards her. Next a giraffe, much taller and struggling to balance, joined the bear. Then a tiny lion, then a flopping octopus. Mikoto stopping tracking them soon after: there were ten, then twenty, then what seemed like a hundred different creatures, from this and other nearby game stalls. Many were surprisingly large, being the best prizes on offer, taller than the girl and easily three times her width. Some were much smaller, with duplicated animals forming up in regimented ranks. The entire assembly fanned out in a big semi-circle around her, and their intimidating display finally got a reaction from the level 5.

It was everything Mikoto could do to not buckle over in laughter. Hands on her knees, she looked up at her new enemies with a stupid smile on her face. "S-stuffed soldiers? I guess they're tougher than you are, huh lady? Heh… That's real cute, but… W-what? **AGH**! Holy-!" _How!? How did it just_ _ **do**_ _that!?_ Her amusement had been cut short by a suddenly thrown projectile. A particularly small toy, a bunny dressed as a farmer, had just picked up a table and drilled it at the girl's head.

It was plastic so Mikoto could only dodge helplessly: lightning would just turn it into a flaming molten mess that would be even more deadly. Another animal nearby began tossing the chairs that remained, and soon it was raining the food court's furniture from all sides. She loosed a few bolts into her attackers expecting a brief yet satisfying inferno, but was shocked herself. Rather than exploding the toys struck merely slowed then grew. As if they were over filled with stuffing they expanded, but their fabric skins stretched to accommodate. All those struck by her lightning first doubled then tripled in mass, some now as large as a car. Confused, Mikoto quickly gave up on the direct approach and tried to gain some ground instead. Ducking back into the relative shelter of the pathway which had led to her failed trap, she heard a disturbing noise from behind her. Something like stomping feet and the clattering of wood on a hard cold floor. "W-what now!?"

She pivoted to witness her escape being cut off by first a squad, then three more, of massive wooden nutcracker men. Dressed like soldiers and marching in perfect time, the esper could tell from the complex firing mechanisms that the rifles they carried were real. Their nut-cracking jaws clattered menacingly, but that wasn't the end of her problems. Behind them stood a row of comically oversized cannons, operated by more overgrown toy soldiers, lighting their fuses with deadly intent. Commanding them all with the artillery ranks was a grinning Miss Baker, who was finally beginning to enjoy herself upon seeing Mikoto's unease.

"What's wrong? You seemed so proud of your plans… But you didn't consider that I might also have resources in this room? That I might also learn about your abilities, and modify my tools to counter it? I can use what's around me, too, and I had already brought nearly all my weapons from our studio for tonight's spell just in case. This room was always important to our preparations, and I was ready to fight an army of magicians and Academy City's finest: what can you do to stop this, little girl?" [4] She waved an arm, and the rows of soldiers lowered their guns. As they aimed down their sights, Mikoto could hear the powerful stuffed toys moving in from behind. Caught in a pincer movement and hopelessly outflanked, it seemed strange that she should be smiling so broadly.

"…Hah! This-" The esper reached out with her mind, feeling the iron in their rifle's barrels. She wrenched them all forwards at once, pulling them and the soldiers themselves past her on either side. Some crashed through tents and solid displays, but most flew like bowling balls into the wall of furry menace behind her. They met in a high-speed crash, exploding into fluff and splinters while the girl zipped forwards, launched by the moving mass she had flung. The cannons before her readied their aim, but Mikoto was ready in turn. She reached out again with magnetism, now pushing the cannons away and apart while slowing her momentum on their weight. Their shots all fired, but the once carefully coordinated aim had been scattered. Grape shot obliterated random targets in every direction, often each other, as the artillery line was ruined. Bouncing about helplessly they all missed their intended target, becoming dangerous projectiles themselves, and it was all Miss Baker could do hit the dirt at the centre of the incredible chaos. Stunned, she tried to regain her feet as the explosions died down, but came face to face with Mikoto who had skidded to a halt directly before her opponent. "-is what I can do." [5]

Pointing a single finger down at her stupefied opponent, the level 5 prepared to finish her enemy. The power arced along her joints before crossing the air towards Miss Baker. It was enough to stun an elephant, but Mikoto really didn't have too much sympathy left for the cruel woman before her. The power crashed into its target with a blinding flash-

-which revealed a simple small doll in Miss Baker's place, surrounded by a big clump of stuffing. Both were hopelessly charred and distorted, but the outlines of a plain leotard could just barely be seen on the simplistic figure. Mikoto swore, stymied yet again. _Damn it_ _ **damn**_ _it! She has dolls for herself too!? But wait, she can only swap, so where did…_ Looking about the ruined battlefield quickly, she noticed that most of the stuffed animals were motionless and face down on the ground. A few however had begun to move, attempting to sneak away deeper into the display floor. It occurred to Mikoto that many of those stuffed toys were big enough to hide a fairly petite woman like Miss Baker. "Oh no you don't! Now I'm just pissed!" Without a second thought she reached for her coin bag and readied a token. Taking aim for a second, she obliterated the nearest likely target: it evaporated instantly, but revealed no human inside. _Guess you can't counter basic inertia so easily, you damned witch!_

The toys which had been moving only slowly before jumped into life, scrambling quickly to escape the deadly blast. A few more railguns thinned the herd, but soon all remaining were out of range. Sprinting along after them, Mikoto quickly realized only a few toys would be big enough to hide the assistant's body. After taking out a few remaining options, one last large bear stumbled its way into a massive tent which nearly reached the ceiling. The esper hurried in pursuit of her final lead, entering the darkened arena.

The only lighting came from the entry way she had just taken, a screen door of fabric hanging down to eerie effect. Inside it was difficult to make out anything, ever with her powers: there was very little metal and none moving. Mikoto paused warily, considering just blindly firing off a few attacks, but was halted by Miss Baker's voice. The woman seemed a little tired, but no hint of fear had developed in her tone.

"Hah… I didn't expect to have to use that spell on **you**. Well, no matter. I'm not done yet." Hearing this false bravado the esper had to respond, her own confidence rising. She slowly penetrated deeper into the darkness as she returned the bante, constantly on the alert for the slightest sign of an attack.

"Try as many tricks as you like, I'll beat them all! Even if I don't get how they work I can still blow holes through your stupid toys." Silence was the only response, and Mikoto grew bolder still. Her eyes adjusted, and soon she could tell there was only a single pile of objects huddled in the tents centre. There had been no light from the tent's edges: unless the woman had somehow teleported herself again there would no escape. _She seemed tired… I guess that move cost her some stamina. I think this is just about wrapped up._ "You can't do that too often, can you? Moving your own body about, I mean. I've got a friend who's way better at that than you. She's 13, by the way." Her jibe was rewarded with a soft chuckle, leading into a sigh.

"Mmm… You're not wrong. That isn't the intended use of that spell. Still, I can adapt. I always do…" Sure enough, the voice was emanating from the tent's centre: Mikoto knew she had her target. Creeping forward and to the side at an angle, she avoided presenting an obvious target silhouetted in the light from the entrance. Her opponent kept talking even as the girl came closer, the latter now pulling out another token and gripping it carefully. "You may be a strong opponent, but you are also still a child." Mikoto was within feet of the mass now, peering carefully for the slightest glow. Then she saw it: a thin red light, blinking wearily. "Thank you for giving me the time to prepare." It glowed from the big teddy bear's collar, nearly invisible. It was a tiny indicator of power, showing that the microphone Miss Baker had once been wearing on her collar was still active and now in broadcast mode.

The toy the woman had escaped in was motionless and emptied of stuffing, but that soon became a minor issue. For not only was it clear that Miss Baker had somehow left the tent, Mikoto had a different problem. There were two stuffed animals lying on the pile of objects in the tent's centre: one she had chased in, while the other was different and emptied of stuffing. Underneath and behind the second's limply lying skin was nothing metal, but at least a ton of high powered explosives, haphazardly stacked and clearly primed. [6]

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] This idea is developed from Side Story material, specifically Styil Magnus's conversation with Richard Brave. I actually only read this very recently, and had a similar-ish idea going before hand: the treaty part however is taken straight from there with my own extensions. I personally believe that Protestant Magicians either do not actually exist in the world of Index, or are basically so poorly organized they are insignificant. (I expect the world's religions were powerful enough with magic to maintain strict orthodoxy in most cases). I use the latter assumption in this telling. To all those excited that these magicians were unrelated to faith… Sorry! But it really does seem like in this universe, that's almost impossible. With the exception of Komoe-sensei using magic, it's been religion (or at least folklore) through and through, including all the Magic Gods. Be happy though that Protestantism is going to play out in this story as much less strict than Catholicism, so direct references to it are going to be rare. Note also his magic name is my own invention, as is the convention of it being tattooed on his wrist. Traditionally, magic names only seemed to be carved on the chest (like the saints that are also magicians) or on English magicians. I arbitrarily decided that, given the history of America's Protestant roots in England, there would be some carry over, along with some changes.

[2] I **wish** that I had planned this moment out before I got to this point, because I would have included a few more subtle hints earlier or something. Still, it was too funny to avoid putting it in once I thought of the joke. And yes, I fully expect Touma to have watched Star-Wars: he's a teenage boy in the City of Science, it's probably required viewing for school. Like "Bill Nye the Science guy" for Science classes, or "School of Rock" for Band. I don't own Star Wars, by the way.

[3] If you've been wondering why Touma has been unaffected this whole time by all the general effects of the Magician's spell, since Misaki's mind control (Mental Out) has at least some effect until he places his hand on his head, there's your answer. It was tricky considering how a spell might use the themes of the season AND follow the general rules of the Index universe, but I think I pulled off the major elements at least. There might still be a few details to reveal, so I won't say more here. But here's a hint: I've been dropping reminders about a consequence that should be revealed pretty soon…

[4] It is not going to be revealed for a while yet how exactly Miss Baker accomplishes all this, but rest assured that at some point it will be. You might be able to vaguely guess from the context, but for now all you need to know is that she has a variety of different tricks up her sleeve. Both magician's do, actually; that difference from other magician's that will also be elaborated upon.

[5] I've always wondered how at times Mikoto could just pick things up that would easily crush her if she supported their mass with her body. I mean, where does all that inertia go? Equal and opposite reaction, I mean. It's fine if momentum just doesn't affect her own body ever, but then how does she move around so fast by pulling on things? Why does that sort of inertia work some times, but not always? Heck, the railgun alone should obliterate her arm and torso after just one shot, based on the energy it should have! She should at LEAST fly backwards. For this story, and for the rest of her powers, I figure Mikoto can pretty much dictate WHEN she wants her powers to take into account that particular kind of physics. When she does allow it, she has to play by the rules and deal with the damages to her flesh (I.E., when she moves her own body as well), but if she doesn't then it is just reality warping at its finest. This gives her some consistency; otherwise she could accelerate herself at increasingly stupid rates or stop on a dime by just applying enough force. These are things that would kill a person pretty quick, ask a fighter pilot: the only other thing holding her back from incredible speeds would be wind resistance and friction. Accelerator doesn't care because he can eliminate the vectors that would hurt him, and Saints are just so tough it hardly matters, but the Number 3 isn't so lucky.

[6] It won't be really be explained further how this turn of events happened, but I left a few clues. Below is the answer, so if you want to guess first, leave a review and see if you're right! I want to note that not only does the answer use Baker's established Magic, but Mikoto was only half right.

!~~~~~~~~!

Basically, Mikoto had the teleport part right, but not the destination. Miss Baker had never teleported into one of the toys nearby, but a different one, that was already within the tent. Baker had prepared this place earlier just in case, seeing as she had been ready for a fight regardless. The plan had always been to fool the enemy into chasing a dummy (the bear Mikoto followed) by making it seem like she had hdden within one of her soldiers. It would lead lead her victims into the tent to their explosive demise. Most magicians would never expect TNT, but how well will all this work on Mikoto?

[7] Wow, these are some long notes. But I mean, this is a complex scene. Anyway, if you want to be in the know, I have a little secret for you... I just started writing the final chapter. See you Sunday!


	20. Part 1: Interlude 4

**Welcome back to the last of our interrupting interludes. There will be one more, but it'll function as more of an epilogue to wrap up the side-plot completely. Note that the timing of the first section doesn't matter too much, so don't sweat when it happens per se: it's after the Spell is first cast, but before the final fight began.**

 **I've been reading the reviews, and it's incredibly difficult to refrain from getting to excited about an idea and incorporating it. At the end, I'll give a quick nod to every idea that I've used or tacitly had to engage with, but for now just know I appreciate them. I also like when people try to figure out my spells. It gives me a chance to make sure I've described them well, and to see if there are flaws or mistakes in my initial reasoning. One comment in particular made me realize that a latter chapter didn't describe something clearly enough to make sense, based on the correct interpretation it gave. So thanks!**

 **For now, though, we're taking a quick hiatus from the battle. See you on the flip side!**

 **Interlude 4:**

Flashback: 1 hour before at 10:25 P.M., December 23rd: Yomikawa Aiho's apartment, Academy City

"...Damn it. Why isn't anybody home to feed Misaka? The food's gone cold."

"There is always the microwave! Says Misaka as Misaka tries to helpfully brighten the mood and distract from our failure…"

"It's not a distraction if you say so **right afterwards** , you stupid... Agh, never-mind. Misaka is exhausted. Arguing is for when there is energy: that lazy bastard is right about that at least." The two clones sat in silence at the kitchen table of Aiho's apartment, thoroughly defeated by the Christmas season. Worst finished reading the hastily scrawled note left by their landlady, crumpling it up with a scowl. "At least that woman is probably suffering right now, working on her day off. Hah! Now that is something that brightens Misaka's night up."

"Don't do that; pass the note, I want to see what she said!Misaka pouts, as Misaka secretly hopes that she can be allowed to stay up late and wait for them both to return." Answering the smaller girl's request, Worst pitched the balled up note directly into Last Order's forehead at brutal speed. "A-ah! That is **not** how Misaka Misaka reads! Misaka states tersely, even as Misaka is aware that lots of information for her does enter directly through her skull…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, brat. At least Misaka beat that dumb-ass home… We still have a chance to figure out what the Hell to do about this mess." The sound of Worst's fingers drumming on the tabletop were momentarily lost in the beeping of the microwave, now finished heating Last Order's plate. The little girl had to stand on a chair to operate it, but was proud of the accomplishment regardless: her temporary ally ignored it all. "Perhaps Misaka can just lie low for a week or two…? No, Tou-san holds a grudge. Plus he would just come and find Misaka if he got mad enough. No, that won't do. We actually need a solution to this ~~~~ing holiday mess." The older clone dropped her head hard onto the table, narrowly avoiding the edge of her lukewarm meal, as she replayed their final efforts to get Accelerator a Christmas present.

The plan had always been to mooch as many free things as possible from Worst's various associates, capitalizing on her intimidating charm to get gift options. The clones would together pick out the best of what was collected, or just wrap up everything if it came to it: Worst was confident quantity countered a lack of quality despite Last Order's misgivings. That method might have worked at any other time of year, but all the bars and hangout spots the girl frequented were completely off limits to Last Order. Those that were accessible to a preteen girl were closed, it finally getting late enough that even the extended holiday hours for most places were ending. It wouldn't fit the persona Worst had developed to actually call up any of her contacts for a favour like this, so instead they had resorted to wandering around the streets looking for an easy mark to convince into "charity".

That had also failed before it began, for some kind of disturbance was ongoing elsewhere in the city. Normally Worst was on top of these hidden developments, but she had been so distracted lately she neither saw it coming or cared about the details this particular evening. She also ignored the curfew which had been imposed, but sadly few others had. Nearly every store was closed, and it didn't seem likely she could mooch anything valuable off of an Anti-Skill officer or a vending machine. With each successive failure the pair had grown more and more moody, until at last a general retreat back home was called. There they sat, stewing in their own misfortune, and still lacking any sort of present. The only sound was Last Order's chewing until Worst finally verbalized her mounting frustration.

" **AAGGHH!** It's so stupid to fail at something this simple and obvious! Me, Misaka, world champion moocher, bully, and lay-about, defeated during the season when everyone else needs to be generous and kind!? What a ~~~~ing joke! If only Misaka could laugh at her own annoyance and not just someone else's, it would be hilarious." She lay her cheek down against the false wood of the table top and sighed heavily. The food left out for them looked as unappetizing to her as always, but Last Order had already finished her own portion. The little girl jumped down from the chair and wandered away into the next room, predictably forgetting to put away her dishes. Worst hardly noticed, but did see the smaller clone return a few minutes later from the corner of her eye. Carefully unfolding and smoothing out the note that had been tossed at her, Last Order placed the pack of markers she had retrieved from her other toys onto the table and began fidgeting. Annoyed at the motion felt but only vaguely seen, Worst lifted herself lethargically back up. "Oy. What are you doing?"

"Waiting for them to come home. Misaka announces, as Misaka deliberates what colour to outline her drawing in."

"…Not that I care about your sleeping habits, but Misaka'll get an earful or worse if you don't get to bed soon. I'm not your damn keeper, but it's always somehow **Misaka's** fault…"

"Misaka Misaka cannot sleep under these conditions! Misaka defiantly argues, while Misaka contests the mean one's selfish reasoning! We still need to come up with a gift idea! Misaka says, as Misaka hopes her determination is clear despite feeling an urgent need to yawn." With that proclamation she began her doodling, ignored the roll of Worst's eyes.

"Sure, sure. Look at how hard you're thinking. Of course, this means it has become Misaka's problem again. …Hmmm…" The taller clone pondered for a second, staring directly into the plate before her. Within seconds her forehead hit the table again. "Nope. Misaka gives up. I can't even pretend to care anymore."

The silence stretched out in the room, broken only by the light squeaking of a felt marker rubbed across paper. Worst tilted her head the other way to avoid even glimpsing the pointless colouring, now facing towards the living room. The Christmas tree glowed in the corner with a mocking intensity: the girl averted her eyes with a scowl. That was when she noticed a different light, blinking red on and off along the far wall.

"Eh? What's that over there?" Neither expecting nor receiving a response, Worst squinted her eyes to get a better look at the odd shape. Finally she recognized it. "Is that Tou-san's cane? Why is it still here? Misaka saw he had it in the mall earlier…" Last Order finally responded after putting the finishing touch of a moustache on her masterpiece. Having glanced over in forced interest, the little girl shook her head.

"No no, Misaka Misaka points out, that is his spare on the charger. Misaka announces with confidence, since Misaka watched him take his usual one out tonight before he left."

"Ah. Right, right."

The two clones gazed with tired empty eyes at the offending cane. It leaned there, pristine and white, propped up against the wall. It was rarely used, so there weren't even the scuffs and marks associated with constant use that the other one had. In short, it was plain and boring, devoid of any personality at all, as if emulating the public persona of its owner. The silence drew out while two sets of mental gears frozen in place finally began to thaw and turn. Finally, a voice was heard.

"…Hey. Misaka has an idea."

"…Misaka Misaka thinks she shares it. Misaka says, as Misaka uncaps her favourite colour with new-found purpose."

!~~~~~~~~!

11:25 P.M., December 23rd: Academy City, Several blocks from the Dianoid's main entrance.

"…Damn it. This is getting worse by the minute. What kind of progress are we getting on the drilling machines?"

"W-well, they seem to be running okay. The trouble is the same as before…" Tessou's hesitant response brought another sigh to Aiho's lips. Things had been going so well until this new round of problems had cropped up. Chief among them was the creeping feeling of exhaustion which was slowly spreading over the besieging force. At first they had brushed it off, just evacuating the civilians further away while teams continued drilling. It was only once officers began to pass out that a general withdrawal was executed. The normally flawless efficiency of those under her command had been sluggish, but they had managed to move back safely.

Yet distance wasn't enough for long. They had already moved again, and were now barely within sight of the mall. The many buildings around the Dianoid were empty for the night, but even so Aiho had been forced to call for a quarantine of the area. So far the greater perimeter was secure, but it was unknown just how far this strange power would spread. She couldn't risk the general public falling under whatever effect was at work here, so they had first established a city-wide curfew and next cleared the district itself out to a kilometre. Yet civilians weren't her only concern.

"The robot's remote operators are still falling asleep, huh? The caffeine isn't helping, then."

"It is, Aiho-sempai, but it's not enough. I don't get it: we know we're outside that effect's current range, but anyone looking through the robot's sensors feels it anyway. As if they were right there alongside them…"

"Well, at least that completely rules out our heavier-than-air gas theory. All right, keep rotating fresh people in. We need to get SOME sort of intel on what's going on in there soon. First we lose contact with the remaining civilians in the upper floors, now this…" _It doesn't make any sense at all. How is it reaching them sixty floors up and forcing us blocks away at the same time without anybody being able to tell what is actually happening? And why am I fine here, but as soon as I go to use one of those robots I nearly fall over? Is what ever happening… somehow sensory based? But then why can we use binoculars… Oh, this makes no sense._ "Oy. Try to get our squads to turn off first the video, then the audio feed. Have them operate using only tactile sensors."

"R-really? All right. They can do it, but it'll be hard and really slow things down."

"I know, but it might give us more time than rotating half-asleep operators every 15 seconds. Let me know how it works."

"Okay! I'm on..." The junior agent turned to leave, but stiffened suddenly after receiving a call on her personal line. "Ah, hold on. I'm getting a report… I-I'll patch you through! This is important!"

"All right." Accepting the call, Aiho opened up her own channel while maintaining a steady gaze on the mall's entrance. The robots were drilling away, just barely audible hundreds of feet away, but the crackle of her headset quickly drowned them out.

"-got a pair of them, unarmed, but there's nothing we can do! We can't even get close like this! And t-they're both heading deeper in!"

"Aiho here. Report agent, where are they?" Cutting into his panicked broadcast, Aiho listened with increasing surprise at his information.

"T-they're below ground, two male figures. In the subway station, already well past the pass-out line! They must've come through one of the closed subway tunnels on foot: we didn't expect anyone to try and come that way ignoring the system shutdown! They must be heading towards the Dianoid, but just realized that interior station had been completely shut off by the Dianoid renovations, so they doubled back to the outer entrance… But who would even be-! Ah, according to our motion sensors, they've just left the station and should be heading up in front of your position now!" The Anti-Skill Captain had been fiddling for her binoculars the whole time now had them raised, struggling to get a clear image of the subway exit hundreds of feet ahead. It was just within Aiho's range, but poorly lit.

"…I think I see them." Sure enough, two shady forms stumbled up and out of the entrance. Momentarily pausing, the one in the rear fell away from his partner for a second before slumping to the ground. The leading shape, leaning lightly on a thin stick, paused before bending over his prone ally. Within seconds they were both on their feet again, and moving purposefully over to the front doors. "…What the Hell are they doing, can't they tell…" _Wait. Is that snow, or is that one's hair…And that cane..._ "No. No, it couldn't be. …There's no way he'd bring a friend along." _…Does he even_ _ **have**_ _one?_

!~~~~~~~~!

"...The ~~~~ is all this ~~~~?" Accelerator muttered darkly, eyeing the Anti-Skill robots on the steps in front above them with distaste. To him they were a minor irritation: blocking out their annoying grinding would mean he couldn't hear Hamazura's directions. To the level 0 in question, they portended something far more significant. The worry he had been feeling since his temporary partner dragged them both down the unused subway tunnel had finally been vindicated. Unsure of how to broach the subject, he stammered out what he hoped could be his saving grace.

"S-so, my f-fr… my c-com… A-Accelerator, u-uhm… You also don't any idea what's going on then? Because I just see drilling machines and a mall in lock-down, and that seems bad. I think we should turn back! The store must be closed! Something bad must be happening! We can always try again tom-"

"We're going in." Though he half-expected the albino's response, Hamazura's readied did little to prevent his spiking heart rate.

"Ah! A-ah, are-are you sure that's a good idea? Won't the authorities not appreciate us getting involved? And how would we even **pay** -"

"~~~~ the authorities. I don't care." The unlikely duo had finally reached the Dianoid's entrance proper despite Hamazura's intermittent bouts of sudden exhaustion. Accelerator could counter the effects on himself without trouble, not recognizing but just barely grasping the strange vectors at work around the Dianoid. To assist the level 0 next to him was less automatic, and the protection seemed to wear off after a few minutes anyway. It was become an increasing bother having to stop constantly to retrieve the level O's consciousness, but he couldn't afford to ditch his guide yet. So for now Accelerator played nice. [1] "They're trying to get in anyway. It's just taking too damn long."

"W-well, I guess that makes- **HOLY ~~~~**!" Hamazura reflexively covered his face, but the shards of the carbon shutter we all directed away from him and Accelerator. The other boy had simply stretched out his free hand and blew the entire structure apart: the robots nearby continued to drill into empty air for a moment before whirring to a satisfied stop. "P-p-puh...P-please! G-give a guy some warning!" Ignoring the admonition, Accelerator stepped inside dragging his guide along.

"Shut it. Go find the store."

"Ah! Right, right. U-h, uhmm… I-it was on one of the first 5 floors, I'm sure! If I can just look at that handy map-" Though he tried to move away to look at the information kiosk, Hamazura soon woke up lying on the cold carbon floor. Yet another time, he found himself looking up into the baleful expression on the Level 5's face who had just countered again whatever strange power was at work. Choking back his thanks, the level 0 cultivated a respectful silence and what he hoped was a blank expression. _Oh God my hour has come. Sometime tonight I'm dead aren't I? Man oh man oh man. M-maybe I can-_

"Let's go. **Now.** " Though Accelerator normally had nowhere near the strength to haul the other boy upright, he had flicked the switch on his neck-device earlier to counter the strange field they had entered. As such, he simply gripped Hamazura's shoulder and pitched him deeper into the mall, following shortly after. However, the unwilling projectile stumbled back quickly, having seen what lay further down the hall. Darting behind the one who was technically an ally, he agreed to whatever would keep himself alive another day.

"Right, right! NO problem! S-so… What about those armed guards, t-then?"

"…What about them?"

"You know, t-them? The ones shouting at us to stop? A-and raising their weapons!?"

"…Yeah?"

"…Please don't make me an accessory to murder; I've really been trying to clean-"

"Just shut up." The first wave of high powered rounds slammed into Accelerator's shielding, but predictably they were useless. The criminals kept up the assault for a few seconds, until one by one they sporadically trailed off. Soon, individual conversations could be heard amongst the enemy as a superior came from deeper within, clearly hearing the commotion.

"What the hell is going on over here, why is there gunfire!?" He heard no response from his squad, which seemed as one paralyzed in fear. "What has gotten into you all!? Is Anti-Skill… Wait, who is… Oh. Oh! …Oh, **no**." The unfortunate squad leader nearly dropped his radio, but with fumbling hands he brought it to his lips. "S-s-s-s-Sarge? S-Sarge!? …W-we've got a problem, here! A "Number 1" sort of p-problem!" Yet there was no time to listen for a response, for the terror of Academy City was already approaching. The man quickly ended his communications, eager to not look rude and make a deal. "Look, we're sorry, we don't want to fight you! J-just tell us what you want, and we'll get out of your way! No harm, no foul, r-right!?" His associates all dropped their weapons and vigorously nodded their assent: it was not worth any amount of abuse from Sergeant to tango with Accelerator. Yet when they finally got a response, it was even more surprising to them than the boy's sudden appearance.

"… I'm here to do some Christmas shopping." As one, the guards froze in their quaking.

"…"

"…"

"…Really?" Disbelief was clearly the wrong reaction, but it was hard to blame the thug. It was as you had just received a Valentine's Day gift from Godzilla: your first thoughts weren't like to be about what sort of White Day gift would be appropriate. The corporal regretted his question precisely as long as he remained conscious, which was to say less than a quarter-second. The entire hallway, all their defensive structures, even the criminal's armour and weapons were blown apart in the immediate and terrible wrath of Accelerator. The last thing Miller wondered before bouncing of a nearby storefront was exactly why he had thought that the level 5 had been joking.

As the smoke cleared, Hamazura coughed as demurely as he could before following the stiff form of his captor forwards into the mall. Sparing a glance for the guards, the young man could tell two things from their faces: they were all pretty clearly not legitimate security, bearing the familiar look of hardened callousness that he recognized in criminals. Secondly, they would all live despite the fury of the explosion, though likely not without serious regrets about their life choices. Before they could get very far in their journey, however, they both felt then heard a loud rumble. It rocked the Dianoid far above them, and the level 0 hoped fervently that it wasn't the gravity machine in the basement having problems already. [2] It normally kept the mall stable and floating above the ground on a cushion of air, but even it shouldn't have been damaged by that relatively small outburst. Still, Hamazura soon realized from his considerable experience with such things that it sounded more like a concentrated explosion than a shaking building. Though Accelerator didn't slow his pace, the boy he had dragged along felt the need to clarify a sudden worry he had.

"…That one wasn't you, right? Because this whole building is kinda unstable sometimes. Let me tell you, I was here a few weeks ago and-"

"Just find the store."

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] Nice can be a relative term. Nicer than a swarm of wasps, for instance, or nicer than a divorce suit. Also, the bit about Accelerator being able to only temporarily dis spell the effect on Hamazura is not because he isn't strong enough. It's because he just forgets after a few minutes to reflect the power, because he doesn't care at all about the level 0, and he doesn't want to admit that's why it keeps coming back. It's tough being the Ham.

[2] See NT 12 if you want more details, but remember that the Dianoid does have that arbitrary plot machine below, always creating an issue. Hamazura is intimately familiar with it, having be forced to hold it together before it exploded last time. Will such a problem come up again? WHOOOOOOO KNOOOWWWSSSS… Oh wait. I do. Tee hee.


	21. Part 1: Chapter 17

**Well, we're back to our regularly scheduled fight! To recap, Touma was threatened by Amazo, and Mikoto came face to face with a whole lot of explosives.**

 **I hope I've been portraying the combat well: I tent to write descriptive stuff without actually giving a whole lot of visual detail. If you curious about the arena, just imagine it like a hexagonal pizza. There are main channels leading towards the centre regularly spaced, but the arrangement of stalls and displays and such is mostly random, kinda like toppings. It only really matters that you get it's densely packed and full of winding paths, with a few described clearings here and there.**

 **Let's get right back into it: we start off with our leading man. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Chapter 17:**

11:31 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid floor 34-36: The Diamond Display Multi-Level Showcase.

"Look, Amazo, haven't we established that-"

"No! We have established nothing! One of my illusions will work for long enough! Then victory will be mine!" Touma's only response was to sigh and raise Imagine Breaker to his head in anticipation of yet another attempt. He cancelled the oncoming illusion, this time of a bathhouse full of half-naked women, just as it formed. At the same time he darted back to avoid the predictable swing of the Magician's staff. This song and dance had been a pattern for the last few minutes, so repetitive that the boy had used the considerable time to worry about his friend.

Finding himself distracted by the sound of lightning and Railguns not too far away, Touma couldn't help feeling his own fight was an anti-climax. Despite being several inches taller than him and clearly thicker with muscle Amazo wasn't a particular fast or strong opponent. What was worse, his magic did not seem very combat-oriented. Yet he was remarkably quick to retreat from any attempted counter Touma made to the repeated magical illusions. If the boy tried to hide in ambush, the magician just taunted from a safe distance: if the boy tried to lay a trap with a spilled drink or a loosed bag of marbles, the man never came close. While not particularly wise or quick witted, Touma's slow and plodding analysis finally brought him to the correct conclusion. If he hadn't already had his hand to his head he would have struck it, face-palming at his own mistake.

"Oh, damn it! You DID say 'stall' earlier, didn't you!? No wonder you're not really fighting me!" Sensing his real illusion had finally been broken, Amazo ceased pointlessly casting of the same ineffectual spell. But he did not release the cross, which he had constantly held with his staff-less left hand.

"…Well, I suppose you weren't going to be fooled for that long. Perhaps it is time-"

"NO! No more half-baked magical nonsense! Fight me, or I'm just going to go help Misaka!" For some reason, this promise darkened the atmosphere. The magician had retained a crooked grin even when on the defensive, but now that smile was instantly erased.

"…While I am confident in my partner's abilities, I would not let you threaten her. I suppose I must get serious." Without further show Amazo exploded with light. No longer confined to just his cross the luminescence swirled about him, taking on solid form and generating a wind which staggered Touma. Though at first he stood his ground soon he decided to take several steps back when the spell had completed. Whatever magic he had been expecting, it was not the transformation before him.

"W-whoa, **whoa**! I-is that just an illusion too!?" Amazo had somehow grown in seconds to become a giant of a man, his staff and cross growing with him. Even his droopy Christmas hat was enlarged, but it no longer seemed comical as it brushed against hanging ceiling decorations. It didn't look as if it had expanded with the scientific mechanisms Mikoto had identified earlier during he magic show, and regardless that effect could not explain the size of the magician under it.

Touma's initial question was dramatically answered by a swing of his enemy's tree-sized weapon. It crashed through a nearby display case of imported fine china, creating a massive explosion of splinters and shards. The boy ducked the worst of it and dove further away, gaining a number of smaller cuts and scrapes from the debris. He looked back up at the grim face of Amazo, whose smile finally returned with a dark twist.

"Guess. If you can." Yet even as the giant confidently readied a second swing, Touma dashed forwards. The suddenly aggressive move caught the magician off-guard, whose attack aimed long couldn't be diverted to hit a closer target. The boy got up directly in front the towering legs, caught under the overhanging shadow of the colossus.

 _If I can just get close-_ Even though Amazo had raised a leg to kick away the approaching mouse, that mouse raised Imagine Breaker defensively. It rang out loud and clear. _YES! All right, now for the cross! I've got-!?_

Touma's hard-won advantage had an unexpected price. While the magician did shrink back down nearly instantly, he was not in the least surprised. If anything, his eyes lit up with triumph. It soon became clear why: the kick launched while enlarged continued without pause, slamming directly into Touma's gut. Gasping for breath after the blow the boy rolled away to create some distance. Glancing back up he saw that Amazo had already regained his size, brandishing his humongous staff yet again. As he brought it from the side and swung low, forcing Touma to jump in desperation, the magician laughed aloud.

"Ahaha-HAH! I am using just a fraction of the power the Spirit of Christmas has been drawing, but you have clearly been bested. Even if you touch me the moment your hand is gone I will regain this size! As far as the world cares I really am 25 feet tall, with all the might that entails!"

"H-how!? That change is real! I thought you can only do illusions and stuff!" _What could he be doing to my perceptions to make this all seem so real?_ For once, the magician didn't seem keen to clarify.

"Figure it out." Touma ran and sprung behind a row of tents, trying to hide from sight as the staff swept all asunder. "Or not. I don't really care anymore: it's not like I need to when I consider how insignificant you are compared to me." While poles and fabric clattered to the side, the Magician paused: it seemed his target had disappeared. "Hiding now? If you've run off, you'll regret it. I'll always be able to find you." Neither option seemed really possible, however. The next row of tents in the back was too far away for Touma to have reached in time, and the attack had created a broad clearing without hiding spots directly in front of Amazo. Finally glancing to his sides, he just barely caught sight of Touma running up to tackle his leg from the right. The boy had grabbed hold of one of the tents's trailing edges as they were swept away, dragged along to tangle with them on the side of the clearing. Bruised but otherwise fine, he had had just enough time to get a hold on his opponent's calf before being detected.

The magician shrunk again and was forced to grapple with the boy in close quarters. Both his hands were occupied with magical items, so he immediately lost the advantage his superior strength gave him. They fell to the ground together, the boy on top trying reach for Amazo's cross to destroy it. But the spiritual focus was clenched tightly in a hand that Touma couldn't pry it open fast enough. When he finally succeeded, he reached forward with Imagine Breaker. Yet his attack was stalled, for at the last second the magician swung the staff for the boy's head. Forced to block the attack and miss his real target, he was at least rewarded with the sharp sound of the staff being nullified, wilting at his touch. However, with a hand free now free Amazo could fight back. He gripped Touma by the neck and threw him bodily away, leveraging his height and weight compared to the 16 year old boy. As each picked themselves up, the older man chuckled in low humour as he expanded once again.

"Thinking about getting a grip on me? I am quite a bit stronger than you even normally, I expect: do you really want to get into a wrestling match? I hope you do not think I needed that staff. That was just a tool to help spread the spell more efficiently in its early stages. You will have to do better than this! I knew it from the start: as long as we're in my magical domain, I'll always have the advantage!"

 _Ah! So that's it!_ Touma wasn't certain at first, but suddenly the pieces clicked together. _Is that why he's been acting so self-centred?_ "I think I've already figured you out, Amazo! We both know that I'm holding my own, and really, over half the things I've fought have been bigger than you!" And with that brief moment of pride, Touma noticed the change he had been hoping for. It was short live, but the magician shrunk a half foot. Irritation flickered across the massive visage, but it passed with another burst of light from the cross and the size was regained.

"I was right!" Touma raised a triumphant fist before pointing it at his foe. "You're not tricking **me** this time: you're tricking yourself into believing you're actually huge! I've fought someone with a power like this before. If you can't focus on believing that you're that size, you can't sustain it!" [1] _…So all I have to do is destroy your concentration and deflate your ego, just like Aureolus Izzard!_ _Man, that was really fast: I'm getting better at this!_ Yet even as that sure-fire victory was planned, the hope it promised was dashed.

"You must be thinking that you can break my confidence and end this effect, yes? How droll. How proud you must feel!" Instead of looking worried, Amazo's spirit seemed to swell. "That might have worked if it was just my own personal belief powering this spell, but have you already forgotten what I've been doing this entire night?"

"…A-ah… The Spirit of Christmas…" Trailing off, Touma pondered the consequences of that spell. _Of course, it's not just his belief! It's everyone else's in him: I'd need to convince the whole MALL he's weak, or break the spell itself first! That's… not as good a plan as I'd hoped for._

"Such a pity, but I have a massive reservoir of power to draw on. Just try and eliminate it all at once! Besides, I'm a show-man from America: I've always been larger than life!" [2] The magician began to approach with surprising speed, signalling the end of the conversation. Backing up, Touma realized he was getting close to the outer wall of the floor. His escape was being cut off.

 _Crap, he's right! I need a different tactic, some sort of-!_ Both were instantly distracted by a massive explosion from deeper in the floor. As each turned to face the unexpected threat, the spiky haired boy alone noticed an odd projectile zipping towards them.

!~~~~~~~~!

A few seconds earlier: 11:34 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid floor 34-36: The Diamond Display Multi-Level Showcase.

"…" _Crap. CRAP. CRAP CRAP_ _ **CRAP-**_ Wasting no time Mikoto reached behind for something , anything, metal that could help her escape certain death. It was a long way away, but the giant blockage she had thrown onto one of the stairwells would have to do. Pulling it hard, she flew faster than anyone could have ran, faster than she could even pretend to control. Bones aching she flew, piercing the tent and crashing into the fluorescent lights of the Dianoid just as a fuse ignited.

The tent survived only a fraction of a second longer than the darkness it created: both were burned away in the sudden maelstrom of fire. The pressure wave blew apart a dozen nearby stands, and nearly toppled the floor's central Christmas tree. And it accelerated the flight of one furious and terrified middle-schooler who even now was trying to figure out how exactly to slow down.

 _CRAP CRAP CRAP CRAP!_ She hurtled so swiftly there was no time to think. Objects passed by so fast she knew it was seconds before she hit the solid wall of the Dianoid. Though she could reduce speed nearly instantly if she pressed hard enough against the same iron blockage she had pulled, it would crush her to pulp at these speeds. She tried anyway, gritting her teeth as she reached her limits, still looking for something else to slow her down.

That was when she realized she was heading straight for the back of an impossibly tall figure, shaped like a man, where nothing should have been. The obstacle presented an immediate and painful stop on her journey, but a sudden flash of red at the shape's highest point caught her eye. _There!_ Remembering the coin still in her hand Mikoto fired it down and in front of her with simple magnetism, angling her projectile into the carbon floor. The ground buckled and shattered under the pressure, but it resisted enough to drive the girl upwards, pushing her higher and towards the head of the giant. It was no softer of a landing than his spine would be, but that wasn't where she was aiming.

The huge man was slowly twisting backwards, looking behind him to see what the shock-wave that had hit him was all about. As he did he leaned just slightly, and the massive festive headdress he wore flopped into Mikoto's trajectory. With a solid thump she blew the entire Santa hat straight off Amazo's head.

After bouncing fluffily against the ceiling it tumbled through the air in an uncoordinated lump, emanating a constant stream of swears that were drowned out in the explosion's aftermath. Touma, who had been standing directly under the shadow of the looming Magician, used his enemy's momentary distraction to retreat. As he did he nearly collided with the descending Christmas hat. Instead it rolled into the side of a tent, squirming vigorously as the magician and the boy regained their bearings.

"What!? What was… my hat? Where is… M-miss Baker, are you…!?" Feeling his head for any sign of injury, the magician was distracted, turning around and about trying to understand what had just happened. Touma was a little closer to the newcomer, recognizing the voice just now emerging from within. He wasn't quite able to make out the specific curses used, but he certainly recognized the considerable angst they conveyed.

"I-I'd know that tone anywhere! Misaka, what happened, are you-"

"Don't want to hear it. Just h-help me out of here. This thing's… heavy." Soon she was freed from her felt and fabric prison, but their shared relief wasn't destined to last. Amazo had finally regained his composure, and was striding towards a large wooden food stall nearby in floor-shaking steps, picking it up with his free hand. "What the Hell is going on with this one!? I thought he could just-"

"It's self-delusion or something, but it's still magic! I don't know for sure, it's the one thing he wouldn't tell me!" Touma flinched back as the giant tossed his improvised projectile at the two with an underhand pitch. Mikoto proved quicker, knocking it off course a steel tent pole she magnetically pulled from a pile of nearby wreckage. The attack was diverted, narrowly missed them, but Amazo was undeterred.

"Why are you here, little girl? Did my assistant prove too much for you?" Mikoto was nowhere near as intimidated as the large man probably wanted, since was depressingly used to fighting opponents this size or larger.

"As if! She's a real slippery snake, but I'll track her down. She just likes to run away a lot."

"Do I?" On cue, the brown haired woman had materialized at the opposite edge of the clearing: while Amazo's back was towards the central Christmas tree he now matched in size, she was off along the perimeter again. "I'm right here."

"Good! Then let's go for round two!" Though Mikoto gave no warning, the lightning strike missed its target. Instead another plush animal intercepted the attack, jumping in from a hidden angle. Baker ducked away behind a distant row of stalls, and the chase resumed. But before Mikoto could leave Touma caught her arm.

"Are you sure you're okay, Misaka? You hit pretty-"

"W-what? No, no! I'm fine, the hat slowed me. Don't worry, you just keep distracting him, I-I've got her on the ropes. Remember the plan!" He gave her an earnestly blank expression, at which she sighed. "And before you ask, not **that** plan, **THAT** plan. Now get on with it!" The esper darted off along the floor's perimeter again, leaving Amazo and Touma alone once more. The magician seemed to have fully recovered his jovial personality, laughing broadly at the ants running around beneath him.

"Ahaha-HAH! On the ropes, she says!? Does she not seem a little worn down herself? Don't you think-"

"I trust her." Touma's steely response took the wind from Amazo's sails, though he did not shrink an inch. "If she says she's winning, then she is. And we'll both win!" The boy dropped back down to a ready stance, anticipating another thrown object. "Now, what else have you got to try?"

"I've got plenty more tricks up my sleeve. A magician is always prepared…" The man focused another torrent magical power through his cross, and held his free hand out beside him. With the staff destroyed Touma expected a new weapon to be summoned, but was unprepared for a sparkle of confetti instead. It soon broadened into a cloud of shimmering spots, hovering in an indistinct haze in the Dianoid's stale air.

"W-whoa, what… why are…?" Thousands upon thousands of tiny, drifting particles caught the bright lights of the chamber, drifting out to form a vague cloud behind Amazo's back. It seemed he could control their motion, since his free hand gestured briefly as they moved. The wielder of this improbable display spoke.

"This is my secret weapon, disguised as a petty stunt. I heard that the magician behind World War 3 called his monstrous creation above Russia 'the Star of Bethlehem". It was quite an excessive display, wasn't it? My own spell of the same name is completely different, plus far more modest: at least in one sense. Can you see what these are?" Despite himself, Touma shook his head, and was rewarded with a brief flash. A single, miniscule part, just one little flake that floated about, suddenly grew like its master, though only to the size of a football. It soon became clear that it had six points and numerous delicately intricate internal lines, glittering as it floated with its now dwarfed brethren. "It could really be better referred to as the "Stars", or perhaps "Snowflakes", of Bethlehem, but then it does not fit the theme. Well, naming spells is an intricate art, if you can imagine." [3]

"Well, with a name like 'The Amazing Amazo', I sort of- **WHAA!?** W-whoa, there!" Whatever the shape was, it had spun towards Touma at blinding speed. It came with enough force to take off his head, and the boy became instantly grateful it had missed: the weapon remained lightly vibrating, jammed after slicing three inches into the solid carbon tile. Its many edges glinted as evilly as Amazo's eyes, which dropped two feet from Touma's insult before regaining their highest stature.

"I hope you them as diverting as your own sense of humour, boy." With a fresh pulse of light from the cross that dangled loosely around his neck, a half dozen more of the stars grew in size, now circling Amazo's outstretched hands. Now rushing as one towards their prey.

!~~~~~~~~!

11:40 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid floor 34-36: The Diamond Display Multi-Level Showcase.

 _I lose her for a minute, and she somehow gets another army of these damned things!?_ Mikoto's coin pouch felt dangerously light, but she had little alternative. Any means less than a railgun didn't seem like enough to permanently destroy a stuffed toy-warrior: they resisted being crushed by heavy weights and came back if simply knocked away or pierced by a makeshift spear. They weren't quick or organized enough to be a real threat, but they were definitely distracting for the girl in more than one way. _Th-thank goodness none of these are Gekota! Could I bear to…? I'd have to, but… OOOOOOHH, I'll get her for this! That damned witch! You can't make cute serve evil, that's horrible! AGGGGGH!_

Another blockade of fur and stuffing was cleared by supersonic steel, opening a stretch of path towards the far side of the floor. Mikoto had already wasted five minutes just catching up to Miss Baker, nearly as far from Touma as she could be on the floor's opposite side. The end of her run was finally rewarded by the sight of the assistant up on a small stage. It was ringed with unlit signs and lights, clearly designed as a small game show, with the woman sitting daintily on one of the contestant podiums. She let herself down lightly before strolling to centre stage. All around her position and in front of the stage were another few hundred plush animals barring closer entry. Some were massive, considerably larger than they ought to have been originally, and Mikoto didn't remember shocking them.

"So… You've been drawing electrical power from the stage's lights and stuff to make them bigger without my help?" Despite being found out, Miss Baker's smile didn't falter.

"I really should have considered the implications of electricity on my methods before: the influx of energy can be disruptive, but not always in a bad way. I should really thank you for the idea, little girl." The smug implication nearly pushed Mikoto over the edge of frustration, but with effort she returned the banter.

"I guess you have to use all the help you can get. What I can do on my own, you need toy soldiers and an entire mall worth of people! Really, I've fought way tougher magicians than you." At that boast the assistant paused, momentarily thoughtful.

"Have you now…? And I thought it was just the boy. Well… I'll find more about your history afterwards, when it doesn't matter anymore." She shrugged with total indifference, cleaning a nail as she did. "I don't care what you've done or who you are, really. Mild curiosity about your strange esper abilities won't save you."

"Yeah? Then maybe this will." _I can see she's figured out my effective range with a token… Otherwise she wouldn't be standing so bravely on that stage. Which means my theory might be… Well, let's run a test first._ Instead of charging forwards to close the distance or launching a different attack at the woman, Mikoto channelled her strength and fed power through a number of large cables twisting about the ground. They were high density lines, so there was little danger of her blowing them out: they were currently inactive but normally fed the game-show. The energy flowed up and towards the stage where it connected to the elaborate but inactive displays. Her power brought them to humming life, drowning Miss Baker's baker in a sudden luminous glow from behind. Her eyes squinted shut at the glare. Yet not every light came on: only those aimed towards the right side of the clearing clicked into action. Momentarily startled, the assistant soon relaxed, though she remained blinking heavily.

"Silly girl. If you wanted to blind me, I don't have any eyes back there." The assistant sounded confident. Yet something in the Level 5's smile didn't seem to fit with the situation.

"Oh, I think it'll work just fine." Mikoto brought her powers to bear once more, lifting a handful of motorcycles and four-wheeled ATVs into the air above her. She had noticed them in a large display area just a short distance away, waiting for the time to use them. Miss Baker's eyes squinted further in suspicion before widening into shock as each one turned into a vicious projectile. Yet instead of charging the woman on the stage, they rocketed through the various stalls and displays which lined the audience's seating area, ignoring both her and the stuffed toys. Mikoto's aim was not entirely random: only the side that was illuminated by the sudden glare from the stage was targeted.

Without further warning the Miss Baker on the stage faded away into nothing. From the cloud of debris and fire on the seating area's right side a woman's voice could be heard coughing painfully. There had been no obvious sign Miss Baker was inside one of the stalls and not actually on stage, but Mikoto seemed to have expected this outcome. "Hah! Gotcha that time."

"Guh… H-how?" The assistant was stunned by the unexpected violence towards her hiding spot. The worst of the carnage had avoided her, but she remained pinned by a fallen roof. Dragging herself free as far as possible, her surprise was obvious. "How did you know?"

"That was obviously not the real you." The esper began to approach, noting how the stuffed animals remained frozen once the woman was immobilized. _Good. I had hoped as much, but I'm getting lucky left and right tonight!_ "Last time with the panther I was too distracted, but now I can tell for sure. That's just an illusion: it's got no shadow." Mikoto remembered clearly: the image of Miss Baker that once stood on up on display had not blocked the light from behind. "You've hardly been present our whole fight: I may have seen you standing on those tents earlier, but not one shook or swayed from your weight. Seeing you just up and vanish when I cornered you that one time before you started controlling the toys was the biggest hint, though. The only time you were actually there was when you were with the cannons and had been over confident. Once I could tell you weren't actually on the stage in some kind of double-bluff, I knew you would be hiding somewhere nearby trying to launch a sneak attack. So rather than fall for it and try to draw you out, I figure I'd just attack the real you first." Mikoto reached her quarry, pressing down with one foot to trap Miss Baker further. "Course, I had to narrow down where you were, but when you blinked at the sudden light show I knew you'd be in the brighter side."

"…Not bad." Somehow the assistant's idle praise just irritated the esper more. She soon realized why: despite being soundly tricked and clearly impressed, the woman was still not scared. "I wonder how you'll deal with this next problem, then?"

"Stop acting like this isn't over! One shock, and it's lights out for you!"

"Yes. But then who will stop them?" Despite her better judgement telling her it was a trap, a cacophony of crashing metal and shuffling feet drew Mikoto's attention away from her prey.

Not all the toys had apparently been frozen by their master's capture. It seemed some had been commanded to do something else, independent from the assistant's direct control, before this fight had even started. Mikoto realized with a jerk that this game show stage was very near to one of the stairwells leading below: the toys had been busy and already cleared most of her carefully arranged blockage of debris. The sound she first heard was hundreds of possessed shoppers finally starting to reach the next floor.

"It's nearly done, now. You can't save them and stop them at the same time." The woman under the wood smiled faintly, still pained but no longer anything but calm and collected. Mikoto looked back down aghast, and the sparks that had been lancing about her head the entire fight tripled in intensity. "And if you shock me, who know what will happen to the spell we've cast on them? You've already seen how your lightning affects our techniques." That delayed an immediate attack, and it proved all the time needed. Miss Baker's form seemed to grow hazy and indistinct, harder to see even though the girl was a few feet away. Now the woman taunted her, bringing up a dangerous truth the girl had tried to ignore. "I've heard about you Level 5's, and I know you should be able to wreak more havoc than this. While the boy remains immune, you can't fully ignore the Spirit of Christmas, can you esper? It's slowly wearing you down."

Torn between learning more and attacking the rapidly fading Miss Baker, Mikoto grimaced. "Tch. That damn candy wore off, so what gives? There aren't any presents or decorations around yet, I shouldn't be affected!" _But it's true… I've been feeling more and more tired this whole time. If it wasn't for the adrenaline, I think I'd even be yawning. I've spent whole nights awake fighting; this shouldn't be anywhere_ _ **near**_ _enough…_

"The candy is only a small part. The spell has progressed too far, fed off the belief of too many shoppers, for it not to be affecting even you. It's almost as strong as it was back in our dressing room, and getting stronger."

"W-what…? You mean-"

"Do you know how many we've converted since then? Thousands. All those fertile minds convinced of the magic of the season. All of them pouring their strength into this lie they believe, that it is nearly time for to anxiously sleep for Christmas… Speaking of which, time is running out before they get out of hand. I have somewhere I have to be. Good luck, little girl… " The woman finally vanished completely, leaving behind only…

"…H-her **leotard**!? How!? Why!?" Soon a new problem revealed itself to the anxious girl. "….WAIT, that means-!" _I'VE GOT TO STOP HER RIGHT NOW!_ _Damn nudist witch! Before that Idiot gets an eyeful!_

Yet that concern would have to wait at least a few seconds, because the last tractor was finally hauled to the side. The toys turned on Mikoto and advanced forward, the protective vanguard for the first wave of possessed civilians from below. Women, children, young men and old were staggering up slowly, already laying down the first few presents and decorations. And as they did, Mikoto's eyes felt heavier and heavier-

-Until they suddenly widened in recognition at a sudden newcomer. While Miss Baker had slowly disappeared, a familiar young girl materialized not 5 feet in front of her with starling speed.

"K-KUROKO!?"

"Onee-sama! At last, I've found you! I heard an explosion, are you alright!?"

"W-wha!? What? But, how!? How are you not-"

"Like them? Look, it's this!" The Judgement officer quickly revealed the coal necklace she wore. "This prevents the effects of the mind control; their allied thugs are all wearing them! But that can wait."

 _A_ _necklace?_ "Yeah, we've got a different problem!" Sure enough, the toys had begun to lob more random objects, covering the shoppers who were spreading the Spirit of Christmas. Even though they were much slower without the direction of Amazo, they seemed to be able to at least approximate the correct placements to empower his spell. "Get us out of-"

The teleporter had already grabbed her roommates elbow, and jumped them 80 feet away down a hidden side path.

"-here! Phew… G-good work… Pheh." Leaning heavily on her knees, Mikoto struggled to keep her balance. The moment of weakness did not go unnoticed by her obsessive partner.

" **ONEE-SAMA!** You're exhausted, are you-" Kuroko expressed her worry the only way she knew how: fawning physically over her love and squeezing a particularly inappropriate place. That approach was quickly cut off as Mikoto gained enough energy to mildly electrocute the girl.

"I'm fine, I'm FINE! This is NOT the time!" Clearing her throat, she helped the twitching teleporter regain balance, a little embarrassed she had zapped one of her few allies in the building. "A-anyway! I can resist the effects. You need that thing way more than me, so don't look at me like that!" Kuroko sheepishly let go of the protective charm she was fondling, fully recovered from the shocking welcome she was thoroughly used to. "Plus, I don't wear jewellery."

"Yes, yes, I can see you're okay… But I can still help in other ways! What can I do, who are we fighting? What is with those toys? Are they robots?" The judgement officer's urgent desire to help reminded Mikoto of the other times they had teamed up, but those were scenarios seemed different somehow. Though the level 5 hated involving her friends in trouble, she was beginning to realize they had their own reasons and desires for wanting to help. Besides, this current crisis was shaping up to be another exception to what had before been the rule. Thinking quickly, the girl decided how best she could keep her friend safe and let her join in at the same time.

"…Yeah, you can. Listen, you go slow down the civilians and try to deal with the toys, I'm going to go back after that magician… Ack!" Horrified, Mikoto stopped mid explanation. _She doesn't know about magic! Am I allowed to… Will she even believe me now!? Crap, crap-_

"It's okay, I believe you! Don't worry, Uiharu-san already explained to me that the magician is the villain; we know **all** about it! He's doing this to get revenge on the owners of the Dianoid: I'll explain more later, but this is all about a personal vendetta he has!" The earnest confidence in the teleporter's immediate answer briefly shook Mikoto.

"You-you do? Vendetta? You know about the magicians!?" _B-but how? When did_ **-** Yet her classmate had already continued.

"Yeah! Though it's weird that these criminals have such sophisticated technology, to enable this kind of mind control… Do you know if they stole it?" Suddenly it became clear that her roommate still lacked the big picture.

 _Ah… So she doesn't really get it, she just thinks they're stage magicians still… Well, easy out for me!_ "N-no, I don't think they did! Either way that's not important right now!" The sound of footsteps was gradually approaching, and a few toys had finally caught sight of the two girls and were now signalling for reinforcements. "I've got the magician! I need you to get those shoppers away! Move them downstairs, slow them, tie them up, knock'em out, I don't care! Just don't hurt them, they're still innocent."

"I know that, don't worry! I'm on it! Good luck, Onee-sama!" The teleporter was about to jump back into the fray, but she was stopped by more hurried instructions from Mikoto.

"Oh, wait! If they place a present or something before you get to them, knock it away too! It's how the mind control spreads! Oh! And if you see a woman dressed only in underwear, call to me and **don't** fight her!" The last bit of information only deepened the confusion on Kuroko's face. She had dealt with some strange opponents throughout her career, yet this…

"… I'll be honest, I don't understand. But okay! You can rely on me!" With that she vanished, clearly taking her task to heart. Despite her weariness and the situation, Mikoto couldn't help but smile.

 _She's reliable, all right. In every sense predictable as clockwork. When it comes to groping me and fighting her way into trouble, at least…_ Chuckling once she realized those were often the same thing, Mikoto began to run. Soon though, she stopped. There was no telling where the woman had escaped to.

Replaying their conversation in her mind, the esper quickly pulled herself up to the top of a steel flagpole. Sticking to its side she surveyed the landscape, trying to trust Touma by ignoring the massive Amazo rampaging about. For a few seconds her eyes traced over the floor. A great deal of it was already in ruins, thin plumes of smoke commonplace. Many of the outer areas were ravaged, but more central zones remained somewhat clear. At the very centre the massive Christmas tree, ornaments arranged in complex geometric patterns, was untouched, apparently isolated from the chaos by sheer distance and some strange luck.

Mikoto paused, and her gaze lingered again on that tree. In a flash she recognized it from before. _The magic show! But how is it up here... Of course, t_ _hat must be the place she mentioned going to! It_ _has to be important, t's right in the middle of everything: we're halfway up the Dianoid and it's smack dab in the middle of this floor! Talk about broadcasting your moves, but I'm the idiot for not recognizing it! Still, now I have a target, and that's all I ever need._ [4] Confidence rising, the girl slid down from her vantage point and dashed towards her objective. It was only a few minutes run, and Mikoto hoped she could still stop all this if she got there before Miss Baker or whatever time-limit the magician had referenced passed.

Unfortunately it seemed the woman had been worried Mikoto would figure it out. Left blocking the way were more wooden nutcracker guards and assorted stuffed toys: the last of Mikoto's tokens were rapidly being drained. They slowed but could not stop her, despite the increasing exhaustion creeping into her mind. Yet as her focus waned, the girl was stumbling with an unexpected problem.

…So, _how DO I take her or that tree out without affecting the spell… All those people might… Oh! OH,_ _ **CRAP**_ _!_ With a sudden revelation the girl cursed aloud. _She tricked me! She's not even the one casting the mind control spell! And that's not even the same kind of spell as the toys are using! Plus, I've already shocked shoppers before, and they were fine! DAMN IT, I'm so_ _STUPID_ _! I have to HAVE TO_ _ **HAVE TO**_ _LEARN MORE ABOUT MAGIC!_ Her anger kept Mikoto going when she otherwise might have stumbled in exhaustion. Soon she reached the festive tree, finding both her enemies on either side.

To the left was Miss Baker, looking more dangerous than ever. In fact, she was the very picture of an exotic fantasy Amazon warrior, riding a simply gigantic stuffed Siberian tiger while somehow back in her leotard. Though its eyes were cutesy and its fur plush, it somehow looked feral enough to kill on its own. Yet the assistant was not the magician who distracted the level 5 most.

Instead it was the sight of a certain spiky haired idiot gasping for breath, carried over Amazo's shoulder and caught in his giant grip, which drew Mikoto's panicked cry.

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] It's only a little like that, but Touma isn't an expert. In the world of magic, perception is only a few steps from reality: stage magic blurs that gap even more. There are many ways in traditional magic to make some small appear large, using perspective and such. In short, as long as there is the will to power it and the mana to cast it, he can increase his size drastically with all the benefits and few of the shortcomings (his heart exploding from the pressure, etc.) that comes with. Now, how exactly this fits with the religious motif is not stated in this story (because there just isn't a good place to fit it in this part), but remember that there is one christian story involving a prideful giant... It will likely be reference again at some point before this all ends, though.

[2] Zing! ...As a Canadian, I am now obligated to apologize to my southern neighbours. We have the right to make as many America jokes as we want, but I'd be risking my citizenship if I didn't say sorry right afterwards.

[3] Anyone remember these from before? Yep, I've had this planned out since chapter 2, Amazo's introduction. These are the same sparkles with which he announces his name. Let no one ever tell you preparation isn't worth it. Now, if only I had remembered to include them in his introduction during the magic show… Whoops.

[4] I was wondering if anyone would catch that I used the exact same wording in that earlier chapter to refer to that tree. I originally had many more hints leading to the tree being important, but I decided that didn't really fit the flow.

[5] Don't worry, that cliff-hanger ending is explained. But you'll have to wait for the next chapter!

[6] Also, super secret note: I just started writing the epilogue. Any guesses as to how many chapters are left before this wraps up? (Hint: Patterns are fun.)


	22. Part 1: Chapter 18

**Welcome back! This update might be the last on schedule for a little bit. I'll be going on vacation starting sunday, camping a few of the days, so I don't know when I'll be around reliable internet access. That said, you don't need to worry: Come Hell or high water, this will all be posted by the end of August (or perhaps the beginning of September, if Hell and high water double-team me).**

 **Thanks for sticking with me so far, and giving the feedback I have gotten. Let's keep this intro brief: onto the show!**

 **Chapter 18**

Flashback: 10 minutes ago, 11:42 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid floor 34-36: The Diamond Display Multi-Level Showcase.

Mikoto had only left a short while ago to chase after Miss Baker, but Touma was already wishing she was back.

 _Of course, the guy pulls out the magical METAL_ _throwing stars at the perfect_ \- " **Wha-Gah**!" Touma had been crouched down behind the ticket kiosk for the "Antique Armours and Clothing of Europe" display when he heard an attack whistling in. Fleeing his paltry cover proved wise. First one then four more stars obliterated his hiding spot, reducing it to several chunks of useless plastic. Exposed now, he scrambled deeper into the small closed off area that housed a large display of medieval suits of armor.

The stars barely slowed after their assault, biting deep into the carbon floor at erratic angles. It seemed those shots had not been aimed specifically at the boy, for the giant did not immediately head his way. It was almost as if the stars had been flung randomly to flush him out. _Just my luck a handful of them all managed to guess right at the same time._ Seeing no more spinning nearby, Touma ducked behind a display case full of helmets planning as best he could. Amazo's prideful banter drew ever closer in the background, booming between distant tents.

"Hide all you like! Run all you like! You will slow soon enough, and one slip is all it will take!" The magician's echoing predication aligned with Touma's own fears: there were just too many attacks, constantly arriving from strange angles and blind spots.

At first he used Imagine Breaker to intercept them. The stars were instantly destroyed without fail and did not damage him in the slightest. The trouble was that individual stars weren't valuable: instead of throwing one carefully, the magician would cast five without pause. Even hiding from Amazo's sight had proven a bad idea: that only prompted a whirling maelstrom of blades which slowly expanded, carving up every possible safe place. So far nothing but the thick carbon floor had stopped the stars once thrown, but Touma had one last gambit to try.

He glanced around at the variety of antique armour on display all around him within the sectioned off pavilion. Some were ornate, others simple: some even used only leather or cloth. A number of minor pieces sat behind glass cases or on open air tables, but all the complete sets were propped up on mannequins and standing in simple poses. Together they stood anachronistically between a luxury hot-dog cart on one side and several rows of high-end laundry machines, washers and dryers, on the other. Altogether they occupied a dead end, surrounded on 2 sides by the high walls of substantial stalls. The way back lead to the magician, but behind Touma was only the outer wall of the Dianoid. Having no more room to flee and rapidly losing what remained of his time, the boy began to plan.

A few minutes later, the magician and his deadly swarm approached. The section of floor containing the armour exhibition had been isolated from the rest of the mall by the Stars of Bethlehem: Amazo was confident his quarry was in the area as he scanned the open pavilion. That feeling only grew when he noticed the simple mistake the boy had made when hiding.

Peeking out from under a tablecloth buried in various gloves and boots was the false hand and arm of a mannequin. One of the models had been replaced.

Smiling in triumph, the giant readied as many stars as he could comfortably control at once. After a dozen finally stabilized their erratic orbits around his arms Amazo sized up the most likely targets, looking for the suits of armour with the thickest plating. It wouldn't make sense to hide in the lesser mail: not only would the boy's skin be clearly visible, they would provide less hope of protection against the deadly stars. That left the 8 or so full plate-mail armours off to the area's right side. Turning to look closer, it was clear none were facing the area's entrance, nor were any twitching with half-concealed shaking. It seemed luck had run out for one very unfortunate boy, who would never see it coming.

 _Sorry for the messy end, Kamijou Touma, but you have driven me to remarkable extremes_. Eight synchronized attacks whipped forward, each striking a suit in the centre of the back. _No more theatrics: one of those will finish this quickly._ They penetrated fatally, knocking each mannequin to the floor with a crash, with the leftmost splashing down in a sudden pool of blood.

Grimacing in distaste, Amazo swallowed his pride. Even though the deed was done, he would have to inspect the damage. Perhaps the boy could still be saved, for despite all the trouble he'd caused the magician he was never meant to be a victim.

Striding closer, it was clear to the magician that this set of armour was the highest quality. While the other targets had been penetrated completely this one's star had gotten stuck in the chest pieces' front. Even so, the weapon had proved effective enough if the amount of blood was any judge. It seemed the obvious choice to hide in, but had been an equally obvious failure.

Peering down from above, Amazo saw no sign of movement in the armour. As delicately as possible he crouched down and overturned the suit, looking for life. As it twisted the helmet fell loose, clattering to the ground before rolling several feet away.

There was no pained expression revealed, no face at all. _Is he really so short as all that…?_ It was not easy for the giant to see inside the chest, so he shrunk down on his own volition, undoing the simple clasp of the suit. Though made of the thickest steel it didn't seem quite as heavy as it should be with a wearer inside. Now that he was normal size the distinction became much easier to notice. That gave him some advance warning for the next revelation: this suit's chest cavity was empty. Empty, except for a vibrantly red, 1 gallon container with a pressure spout on top. It was hard to credit, but Amazo soon recognized what had actually been pierced by his magic and spread out over the floor.

"…K-ketchup!? Did I actually fall for... But where…" Glancing about wildly, the magician realized just how many food vendors there were around. A gallon of condiments would hardly be rare. The answer may have been obvious, but it still took a few moments for Amazo to realize he had been fooled. At some point, the boy had stolen the ketchup, dropped it inside a likely target, and then hid himself somewhere else. [1]

The magician regained his former size with furious speed, accelerating even further past his maximum. Bumping his head on the ceiling he shrunk slightly, no less angry for the mistake. His eyes danced about, but saw nothing obvious out of place. Yet there had been a mannequin under the table, which meant one had to be missing from somewhere in the area. The boy must still be here. All pretence of composure was abandoned: the entire area was consumed by a whirling dervish of cutting death. Soon every display mannequin standing had been eviscerated: yet there was neither blood nor ketchup to show for it. Finally, the last possible option dawned on Amazo.

Miraculously, the table with the gloves and boots had remained intact during the chaos. A swift kick from the giant changed that, sending it flying outside the armour exhibition. Underneath, instead of an entire mannequin, was just the forearm and hand disconnected at the elbow. Touma had left bait which the Magician completely bought.

"Where!? Where have you…" Glancing to both sides, the row of washing machines caught his eye. In particular, one with a door just slightly ajar. Yet of course, his quarry was long gone. "...Little rat. I forget he's fought magicians before..." Struggling to repress his rage, Amazo stomped out of the display area and back into the winding pathways of the bazaar.

They opened up in three directions: normally this would have meant serious trouble in tracking down the troublesome boy, but a sudden change felt in the floor's magical pressure brought a smile to the giant's lips. Taking a deep breath, he suddenly roared out a challenge, knowing that the boy could hardly fail to hear. "RUN INTO OUR FRIENDS YET!? LOOKS LIKE THEY HAVE JUST JOINED US!"

!~~~~~~~~!

100 feet away, darting between booths, it soon became obvious to Touma that he was being herded again. Last time it had been the deadly path of the stars: he had only escaped then by distracting the one pair of eyes that controlled them. Observing that Amazo couldn't keep up his destructive sweeping approach while aiming carefully, he engineered an obvious target which let him sneak away. He plan was to meet up with Mikoto and prepare for her secret weapon: beside, she was clearly better suited to handle Amazo's newest strategy. However, that was becoming a less than likely option.

Somehow, despite the barrier his partner had erected, Touma had run into a wall of controlled shoppers shortly after escaping Amazo. They immediately fanned out and began a slow, stumbling chase: though he easily kept ahead they soon hemmed in from many sides. The only area still clear would have to be very centre of this floor, right next to the giant Christmas tree that was furthest from any stairs. And even that would not last for long. Still, that was where the boy was now running, hoping to meet up with Mikoto. All these facts had not escaped Amazo.

The magician's long strides brought him to the tree's main approach, where he caught sight of Touma up ahead running along the long red welcome carpet which lined the way. It had clearly been laid out for some elaborate procession or parade, but that mattered little now. What it did was serve as an opportunity. Rather than trying to catch up to the fleeing boy, still heading towards the tree, the giant bent low and gripped the carpet by both sides. With a mighty grunt he wrenched it back.

Touma chose at precisely this moment to look around behind him, hearing the strange noise. That was precisely when his footing slipped out from under him. He slammed down face-first onto the ground, grateful the carpet was thick and padded. It was also very long: despite being yanked away it had nearly 100 feet to go before it ended directly in front of the massive Christmas tree. Yet that blessing soon turned into a curse.

Rather than simply dragging the carpet back, Amazo had ransacked a supporting plastic pole from a nearby tent. He laid it out like a bread roller on the fabric, with the carpet as his dough, but instead of flattening it he began to spin his makeshift dowel. With strong turns he started winding up the carpet like a roll of wrapping paper, eyes glinting with a smug light.

Touma could feel himself sliding away backwards from the relative safety of his destination. When he saw what Amazo was doing he tried to simply roll off the trap, but bumped immediately into a leg. While prone he had become surrounded by shoppers: they tried to step onto the sliding carpet to get to the boy but lost balance immediately. However, there was no way Touma could escape them if he left the improvised conveyor belt. [2]

His only option was to stand up and forge ahead. Sprinting now the boy made momentary headway, as if outrunning an out of control treadmill. However, as the roll Amazo was winding grew thicker, the speed which he could turn it accelerated. It eventually became a stalemate, which suited Touma just fine. The loose end of the carpet was finally coming up, promising him freedom. However, one particularly unlucky shopper up ahead snagged the trailing edge and catapulted straight into the boy's shins before bouncing away. The blow knocked him tumbling to the carpet. He was carried back at blinding speed, rolling and struggling until he hit the great roll of fabric the magician had produced. Stunned by the impact, Touma couldn't resist as the last few layers of carpet were wrapped tightly around him.

Arms pinned by a merciless pressure, he awoke in a daze to find himself in a very tight and fuzzy trap. Looking straight into the oversized eyes of the magician, who had just finished sealing the carpet into its shape by coiling a thick length of cord around its circumference. All rolled up, the carpet was more than a meter thick in diameter and stood on its end over 7 feet tall. The giant had to crouch to get close to Touma's head which peered out the top, but the effect was no less intimidating.

"There! How simple that was!" Chuckling, Amazo reached up with a massive hand and flicked the boy lightly on the head. Despite the restraint, the entire roll rocked and Touma was stunned again, desperately trying to clear the lights from his eyes. Heedless, the victorious magician went on. "No magic, no fuss. I should have thought of this much sooner!" But instead of finishing the defeated hero off with one of the many stars remaining in his swarm, the giant paused in thought. Reaching into his pocket, his took out a surprisingly ornate antique watch. It seemed something was approaching its due.

Flicking it closed, he replaced it before addressing Touma again. "I will deal with you after the spell is cast. There must be some way to impact your memories of this later, even if the Spirit of Christmas will not work on you like the others." As he spoke, the giant wrapped one arm around the bundle and carried it on his shoulder. It was a strange parody of the fireman's safety carry, but the boy couldn't reflect on the absurdity: air was being squeezed out of him with every lurching step Amazo made. For the magician was taking him right to their shared destination. The great central tree.

The immediate area was the largest clearing yet, extending a good 40 feet around the tree's circumference. There was a small podium where the carpet's end once was, but otherwise the tree stood alone. The only other thing present stood out dramatically from just around the conifer's other side. Touma first couldn't believe what he saw, but soon realized with dread what it meant.

It looked like a large Siberian tiger, a creature he was now incredibly glad he had missed while in Russia. At least in this instance it was clearly fake: not only was it two stories tall but its eyes were comically out of proportion with the rest of its head. It dawned on the boy that the cat was actually a humongous plush animal, but how it moved escaped him. Still, that all mattered less than the fact that Miss Baker sat atop the tiger's head, looking as confident as ever. Without visible commands the massive cat strolled towards the eastern entrance which lay midway between herself and Amazo. The magician followed suit, though a slightly more hurried pace.

"Cath- Miss Baker, why are you wearing your spare? Did something happen, are you all right? And how on earth did you get that toy so large? Your magic never did that before..." For the first few seconds, it seemed her teacher's sudden worry knocked the confident woman off balance. But she recovered her calm and detached demeanour soon after clearing her throat.

"…You can tell the difference? They're practically… Mmph. The girl's lighting has a useful side effect. She forced me to slip into my pocket dimension. Seeing as the access is through my costume itself, as you must know…"

"Ah, say no more, as long as you are fine. Still, you have dealt with her?" Miss Baker sighed lightly at Amazo's innocent question, looking now towards one of the furthest remaining entrances to the clearing. Running up the aisle was a certain scientific railgun, tired but by no means finished.

"Not quite yet, it seems."

As if on cue, Mikoto skidded to a halt, rapidly taking in the scene. Touma waited for her eyes to finally see him three storeys up, and he grinned as lightly as he could to put the girl at ease. Yet he was interrupted mid speech by the sudden squeezing of Amazo's arm, left gasping for breath.

"Hey, Misaka. Are-GACK- Ech… A-are you okay…?" He tried to put on a brave face, confident they'd still get out of this mess, but was surprised into silence at her unexpected response.

!~~~~~~~~!

11:52 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid floor 34-36: The Diamond Display Multi-Level Showcase.

"T-Touma! You…! YOU…!" Yet that was all she shouted.

There was no follow up. No immediate clarification: just his name, and a clearly panicked girl. Amazo and Miss Baker each waited a second for more, but none was forthcoming. Though everyone was confused by the dramatic pause, no one was more so than Touma himself.

 _M..my name? My_ _ **given**_ _name? Did she just…?_ His eyes had widened considerably, so much so that he now had to blink rapidly as they dried in the stale mall air. He tried to gauge the look Mikoto wore, but couldn't quite see well enough from his distance.

"…Uhm…" _**~~~~!**_ _DAMN DAMN DAMN_ _ **DAMN IT**_ _DAMN!_ Had he been successful in seeing her face, he would have only been half-surprised. Even he would have expected the heavy blush, but the last time he had seen Mikoto even close to tears had been back during their conflict with Accelerator. She was not crying now, but struggled with intense emotions all the same. Mind reeling, she knew that she'd have to explain later, but for now resorted to the only familiar ground she could think of. Not quite trembling and not quite frozen, she finally stuttered out something, anything, to fill the gap. "…Y-YOU… **YOU** **D-D-DAMNED** **IDIOT**!"

At this unexpected turn both magician's flinched, before glancing at each other in bemusement. The boy only blinked once more before sighing in relief. _Oh,_ _Good. She's alright._ Yet Mikoto wasn't done.

"YOU! You let yourself get CAPTURED!?" There was no way to dodge the accusation and it was impossible to even shrug, so Touma merely grinned bashfully. "This wasn't exactly what I meant by 'getting into position', you realize!?"

"Eh…Eh-eh…W-well…Whoops? I mean, it's okay, we can adapt-"

"I've heard enough babbling today." From her feline perch, Miss Baker's tossed her hair dismissively. "Master, it's nearly time. These two are essentially the last ones unaffected. We are ready." The implications of the assistant's declaration sunk in quickly.

"Wait, the last!? But what about…?" Touma tried to wrench his head around to look up, but stopped short when he noticed the stairs that he and Mikoto had taken down hours before. "Misaka, LOOK!"

Following his gaze, she could only watch in horror at the hundreds- no, thousands - of shoppers and store employees filtering down from the upper floors though each of the 6 main stairways. Possibly the most lethargic and varied reinforcements in history, they had somehow been taken by the Spirit of Christmas despite the pair's best efforts. The entire mall was now their enemy.

!~~~~~~~~!

Flashback: over half an hour ago at 11:13 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid floor 65: Upper Apartment Access and Dianoid Customer Support [3]

By the time the strange power reached the top floors, those hiding had given up guessing what was exactly happening. Theories were discarded as they came: the only thing left was to give up on the particulars and blame an unknown esper. That depiction soon stopped mattering, for the lowest defensive forces final began reporting the effect had arrived. Stationed in makeshift barricades and armed with whatever weapons were on hand, they were ready to repel both the terrorists and controlled civilians alike. But they could do nothing about the insidious sleepiness.

Their posts were abandoned as soon as it arrived, inspiring a panic. As one the mass of thousands fled even high, squeezing into whatever space they could find in the high of floors. The last of the store's employees, secretaries, and shoppers huddled together in booths and cubicles, equality enforced by the sheer press of bodies. Soon there was no room left to fill, and many stranded on the 2nd highest floor began to succumb. With the remaining floors securely sealed and the management refusing to respond to calls for help, the inevitable came upon them.

Toyoharu could only watch in despair as shoppers started dropping by the dozen. Soon there were only he and a handful of remaining electricity espers left conscious. They were all younger and considerably weaker than even he was in power. Within minutes, the young man was totally alone, cradling his brother in rising dread and exhaustion in an ankle deep see of unconscious people.

That was when he heard the wall behind him creak.

Falling away from it at first, he staggered upright as fast as he could. At this point in the evening Toyoharu was uncertain if he could trust his stress-addled ears. Yet the noise remained: a rhythmic, pounding sound, slowly approaching from below.

Fearing the worst, he desperately tried to hide. They floor was nearly jammed packed with bodies, but there was a little room left next to a stairwell, separated by a small dividing wall from his current position. Thinking he could flee back downstairs if nothing else, he huddled in close to the corner it provided and waited with his sleeping brother.

Seconds later a loud click, followed by laboured breathing and the sound of shuffling clothes. Eventually there were also voices.

"~~~~ing... Hell... Man, that... Was ~~~~."

"Save your breath. Complain later. At least we can... get out on this floor. No higher for us."

Strongly doubting Anti-Skill officers would be swearing like that, Toyoharu peered around the alcove. He saw two men, heavily leaning forwards after exiting from the hole they had just made in the Dianoid's wall. A false panel had been raised up, sliding towards the ceiling. Attached to their hands and knees were strange black discs: it took him a moment to recognize them as high powered suction cups. There were even small vacuum pumps trailing down their arms to a compressor on their back, clearly examples of precision climbing technology. The young man did not know it but the old water channels which once ran through much of the Dianoid had been decommissioned were now long dry. Yet they remained intact, an alternate route up and down the building for the unscrupulous, provided they came prepared. [4]

"Man... I mean, Sarge knows what she's doing, but that's a last time I volunteer for 5%. Christ, that was awful. How long were we in there, almost an hour!? That's not worth it."

"You said it. At least these suits are cool, though. I feel like some sort of secret agent. I mean, sneaking around in disused water tunnels? That's some serious spy stuff."

"Yeah, yeah. Now, get out the candy. Let's just get to doping all these shoppers."

"Way to kill the mood..."

During this conversation, Toyoharu had been sizing up his enemies. He knew immediately their Dianoid security outfits were fake, and he hardly trusted anyone in a uniform anyway after what happened earlier. Most interesting was how their sidearms were holstered, and their backs would soon be turned to him if they started distributing the drug. Though he did not understand exactly how the candies they mentioned worked, he was quick enough to realize he wanted to stop them if he could.

Yet he was at a crossroads: even at his best, he doubted he could incapacitate both men. _I'm not level 5, that's for sure. I'd just get us both caught, and I can't risk my brother..._ Just when he was resolved to moving downstairs in a last ditch effort at escaping, he heard a third voice, prompting him to gently lay his brother down on the ground. Perhaps there was a possible plan.

"Hey. Hey! Help me up, you clowns!" It was a woman this time, but her voice was distant and echoing.

"Hold your horses, I'm coming." Sighing, one of the men broke off from the other, who had already begun to retrieve a bag from his pocket. He instead went back towards the hole they had both clambered out of moments before. Looking inside, he called down with a teasing tone. "What, you need help? I thought you were a 'strong, independent-Whoa, WHA-!?"

"What's wr-! HEY, STOP!" The woman had good reason to panic, for a large man in heavy equipment had just tumbled onto her head. Her suction cups held contact, saving both their necks, but she began sliding back down the slick walls at an alarming rate. Toyoharu could hear the string of chaos as they knocked first into one, than another person further down the tube, creating a living plug of people. Their companion who was just leaning over to administer a candy heard the loud cursing which erupted. Turning quickly, he saw a Toyoharu, who was looking considerably relieved that he hadn't just killed anyone. The guard did not seem to have a similar restraint.

"W-what? Hold it! Don't move, or I'll-!" Reaching for his machine pistol, he was not quite fast enough to outpace the current which jumped into his chest. Grimacing in concentration, Toyoharu pumped out his maximum voltage, watching the man fight to stay conscious. In a drawn out battle of wills, the security guard's expression finally went slack. Cutting the power with a gasp, the young man watched his opponent crash to ground, joining the shoppers as his candies scattered everywhere.

"S-sorry about that..." The boy had never directly used his abilities to harm someone before, and the feeling was not pleasant at all. _I had to hold that current for a while. Hope he's okay, even if he was going to shoot me. ...Still. I-I should close this back up, maybe try to seal it and go get...?_ In the middle of man-handling the panel into place, he heard shouted voices and pounding feet echoing from a different, connected hallway a fair ways away. The man at his feet twitched, but it was the crackling earpiece squeaking out unintelligible commands that caught Toyoharu's attention and not his jerking motion. "Oh no. M-more?" _Damn it. Can't take more than two. Not like this._ Yet there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Despair set in as he turned and kicked open the door to the stairwell, grabbing his brother as he went. Yet as he got there, he realized with a start that there were also voices coming from the floor below: apparently his victims had just opened up and tumbled out of a lower panel. He would be cut off before he got down a single flight at this rate.

His hopes of going upstairs instead ended as abruptly as the steps did. There was no access: everything higher was available only through a secure series of elevators elsewhere. However, a simple control panel next to a light switch caught the young man's eye.

There was no way to tell what shocking it would do, but Toyoharu was completely out of options. Risking property damage and a hefty fine, he blasted the console with everything he had. Inadvertently the overhead lights shorted, setting off a round of stumbling and curses just below. Yet at the same time a small, recessed shelf much like a dumbwaiter jolted open at the main stair's end. It had been hidden, embedded behind a false section of wall, but now it was revealed and lit inside by a dim red emergency light. Amazed at his good fortune, the young man crowded himself and his brother into the small alcove and slapped a likely button on the interior, hoping it was some sort of panic room for VIPS. The entire area was barely more than meter wide and deep without being much taller, but the two brothers fit inside snugly as the shutter crashed down.

There was a brief moment of silence followed by muffled rumbling from outside. Soon it was replaced by voices, indistinct but obviously confused and angry. Within a minute, the attackers had cleared away, to search for the unknown attacker elsewhere or carry on with their original plans. Yet even as he sighed in relief, a new issue arose in the form a tinny, pre-recorded voice.

" _Firearms detected. Security failures detected. Emergency detected. Rapid Ascent function engaged."_

"...Whosit the what now-whhoooAAAA **AGGHH**!?" The words were ripped from his throat as the shuttle rocketed up, pressing him into the ground. Yet the ride just as suddenly stopped, bouncing his head into the room's ceiling. Cursing, he struggled to get a handle on the situation when he felt the hidden door slide open and the floor beneath him tilt outwards. Sprawling out into the air of the hallway, he barely kept his brother from being crushed beneath him. Yet the ground was not the cold carbon he had been expecting: instead it was soft carpet, and that last detail was the final straw his battered nerves could take. Shaking, expecting an enemy at any time, he simply laid still for several seconds in shock. "...W..Why would that even be... that fast...?"

When the world stopped spinning and his heart stopped pounding, Toyoharu decided it was time to take stock of his situation before he passed out for good. He was truly exhausted now, but the adrenaline from his ride helped counter the worst of it. Though the ground did seem like such a nice bed...

It took surprising will power to even sit up. When he managed to he realized that he was somewhere few but the truly rich had ever ventured. All around him were the luxury, ultra secure suites that the Dianoid was renowned for in gossip, sheltered at the building's highest point. Secret bases for spoiled kids and investors to lie about and pursue borderline illegal activities, it wasn't surprising the area remained secure this long into the attack. But something made the young man doubt it would remain so for long, from the way his earlier victims had spoken.

For now, all remained quiet. Unlike everywhere else in the Dianoid, here the emergency seemed obvious. Though on other floors illumination remained at full blast, there was only a dim red glow of strip lighting along the floor, bright enough to clearly walk but indicative of a serious problem. He could only imagine it was this way to encourage urgency in evacuating or protecting the building's most important personnel and residents, but for now he had bigger concerns. Toyoharu needed a new hiding spot.

He tried a few doors, but their electronic seals remained secure, impervious to his greatly weakened electricity. No one answered when knocking. If they were home, they obviously weren't awake. Soon he gave up trying: he had lost the strength to generate more than static, and was finding it hard just to test doorknobs. Eventually he reached a less glitzy secondary area, where offices and various boardrooms were allocated. Lit in the same shallow red light, it was hard to imagine the bodies seen vaguely through glazed windows were anything but corpses. They all bunched together in a corner, seemingly in terror: the young man doubted they had been the most important managers, meaning they must not have even known exactly what was happening or why. _Not that I do either, but still._

Eventually, he found a lucky break. A man had fallen while trying to escape from his office, presumably in a panic. Stepping inside, Toyoharu blearily checked the walls. There were no false panels within, but just outside the door he thought there was an access to one of the abandoned water channels the terrorists had used. Yet this room was his last possible safe haven.

After laying down his brother behind the office's heavy oak desk, the young man dragged the unconscious manager back into his now breached citadel. Yet he was doing the poor man a favour, for he locked the door behind all three of them. Stumbling, nearly falling now, Toyoharu finally crawled back behind the desk, wrapping a leaden arm around Fumio, trying to remain alert. Just seconds into the warm embrace of sleep, he never heard the sound he had been dreading, as the panel outside his hiding spot finally dropped onto carpet floor.

!~~~~~~~~!

11:54 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid floor 34-36: The Diamond Display Multi-Level Showcase.

"Yes, they have all been taken. They had no spiritual anchors to truly spread the Spirit of Christmas to the upper floors, but since they have been administered the candies and come within its overall sphere of influence it is enough. Their power of belief has been added since they arrived, and we are well past the critical threshold for success. Miss Baker, I take it the primary objective has been met?"

The woman nodded, distracted. She appeared to be talking on her microphone. "…Just bring your men up… Hmmmph." Finished, she cleared her throat. "Yes, 15 minutes ago. The management's funds have already been transferred to the dummy account. We are set for the final stage of… redistribution."

"Wonderful! And with minutes to spare. How are the lower levels?"

"Miss Sergeant has had a change of heart. I'll be taking care of that now." In a deft motion, Miss Baker pulled a coal-black necklace from her pocket. Though Mikoto recognized with a start its twin rested around Kuroko's neck, she had no time to intervene. The assistant channelled a burst of power, and the layer of black soot exploded off it. Revealed beneath was a gaudy red and white striped Christmas ornament. [5]

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] Sometimes the simplest of tricks is best. And this is Touma we're talking about, I surprised he hasn't pulled this one out of his hat yet.

[2] And you thought the LAST gimmick was silly! Well, at least this one isn't cliched.

[3] Every department store makes their customer service area as inconvenient as possible. I've seen one that wasn't even in the same _**building**_ as the main store, so the Dianoid is still slightly better.

[4] These came up in Touma's canon adventure in the Dianoid: then they were full of water, but since the new management saw fit to destroy the water theme that existed before… Well. You see how it is. They are much safer to travel down, now, without needing a respirator.

[5] This detail might become important next chapter, as we approach this battle's climax. Until then… See you then!


	23. Part 1: Chapter 19

**Wow, this one got out of hand. But hey, I wanted to have the interludes where I wanted them, appropriate pacing be damned. Let's hope things don't get too convoluted, but I promise, most questions will be resolved pretty soon.**

 **Chapter 19:**

Flashback: 5 minutes to 11:48 P.M. December 23rd: The Dianoid Main Floor: Centre Atrium.

There was no mistaking it: the worst case scenario had happened, short of the world ending in a sudden cataclysm.

"The number 1. Of course. It ~~~~ing **had** to be the ~~~~ing number 1. Who ~~~~ing else!?" That detail wasn't really what was bothering Sergeant: it was obviously the biggest immediate problem, but really any of the level 5's would have been a disaster. It being the number one actually had a saving grace in her mind. _At least he has a time limit these days._ She crouched again the side of a support column near the atrium's main entrance, trying to coordinate the incoming calls from her teams.

"He's just hit floor four! What do we do!?" The panic in her underling's voice was justifiable, but not helpful. Sergeant did her best to quash its effects.

"What I told you: DON'T ENGAGE. Get out of his path for now. Get the barricades up, and then just let him tire out." Switching lines now. "Bravo team: how many down? Bravo?" Silence was her only answer: they had clearly been too slow to flee. Cursing to herself, Sergeant brought up a third line. "Delta, take half your men and send them to entrance C."

"R-right, sure thing sir! B-but Anti-Skill's drills are nearly through here, just so-"

"I know! Just do it!" _It's more important to keep fresh forces plugging up the hole we've already got than worrying about new ones._ Even as she improvised, Sergeant knew her response was a temporary one. Automated Anti-Skill robots had been steadily streaming through the destroyed main shutter, only to be mowed down by waves of bullets. However, the robots seemed endless, while her men's ammo was not. _Thank~~~~ing God those things don't have time to fire their weapons, but even as it is one'll get in range soon. Then things'll turn ugly._ The drones weren't equipped to kill, but Sergeant knew from experience how little fun their stun guns felt. If it wasn't already here, the time to re-evaluate her commitment to this project was rapidly approaching.

With nearly perfect timing, a call came through on her most secure line. The one that went straight to the magician's assistant. This was the last thing the ex-soldier wanted to deal with, but she could not ignore the priority request for long. After giving a number of orders to her forces covering most eventualities, Sergeant answered, braced to be made very, very angry. She was not disappointed.

"Miss Sergeant. Abandon the main floors, and move upstairs. The plan has changed."

" **WHAT.** Are you out of your ~~~~ing mind!?" It was all Sergeant could do not to shout into her mouthpiece. "I know it's the number 1 we're dealing with, but our only ~~~~ing escape route is down here! We need to get to the basement and leave through that blockaded subway tunnel into the underground: anyway, all he's doing is searching the stores for some ~~~~ing reason, and we've already gotten the primary-" Though Miss Baker's volume did not change, her sudden interjection caught Sergeant short.

"Miss Sergeant. You will listen to me. There is still a way out: just bring your men up." In the tense silence that followed, the mercenary felt her phone rumbling in its holster. It was set to vibrate only when contacted through one channel, manned by the trooper she had monitoring her group's finances. That vibrating feeling had never been more welcome.

"…No. We're done here. We've got our principal now: I can see the deposit just went through since we finished the main task. I don't care about the secondary incentives any more. Good luck with that monster and everything else, you ~~~~ing ~~~~~." The line clicked silent as Sergeant hung up in high spirits. She opened her general channel, this time addressing all her sub-commanding units. "All right, ladies and gents, get ready to pull out. Collect up what you can, and get the wounded down. Continue the holding action against Anti-Skill, but send all reserves to prep our escape. We're bugging out."

The ex-solider thought she could hear faint cheers and cries of relief from the hallways around the atrium: this plan had been such a waking nightmare that the whole crew was ready to bail. Even if Sergeant hadn't pulled the plug, she realized now just how close to breaking her people were. Still, it would all be over soon, and she could relax knowing the job would be over and done. Ditch the new recruits, scramble out of town with the core team, and start up again elsewhere: enough of this ridiculous city. Maybe she'd move back to America; the heat must have cooled down by now. Or maybe Europe. She had heard Milan was nice.

Her dreams of Mediterranean summers were dashed as the necklace she wore exploded in a cloud of acrid, black smoke. It burst up into her eyes, choking her lungs as she spit to clear her mouth. Yet even as she did, she began to feel woozy. Miss Baker had expected treachery, and planned out as much as she could to prevent it, but she had not expected the very object that had once protected her to be the trap. For the coal-black necklace had become a shimmering ornament, and she could feel the sudden crushing weight of sleep being opposed by an unusually festive feeling. Just before she lost control of her senses, she placed when she had last felt such a simple-minded joy and excitement, and it nearly brought laughter to her lips at the irony.

"C…C…Christm…as?" [1]

!~~~~~~~~!

11:55 P.M., December 23rd: The Dianoid floor 34-36: The Diamond Display Multi-Level Showcase.

"Well, I suppose that is what you get when you work with criminals. I take it your ornaments were effective? I can feel the mercenaries' energy being added. That really was a good idea you had, and an excellent piece of magic." Amazo stretched his free hand to reach for the luminous cross handing from his neck, as if feeling the mana increasing. His assistant nodded, apparently eager to move things along.

"Yes. Their integration is complete. Shall we begin?"

"In a moment. Let us deal with our last obstacle. She could still prove distracting." Now the magician was clearly addressing the middle-schooler, who earlier blush was fading. She had already tried to reach into her coin pouch before freezing in indecision. Her fingers toyed with her last token, as she sized up her possible targets. Yet being noticed brought her attention back to the conversation. "Tell me, little girl, who exactly are you? Miss Baker mentioned something about a "Level 5", but what exactly does that make you? Either way, I have to commend your abilities and determination. But this must end now." After a pregnant pause, the esper named Misaka Mikoto answered.

"…You know, I could just about believe neither of you knowing about that Idiot and his hand before you attacked my city…" Her voice was cool and flat, surpassingly confident. "But to try this without truly understanding what it means to mess with a Level 5… That takes one monumental lapse in planning." The two magicians glanced at each other again, before their expressions grew grave. "Be glad I'm the one you pissed off: one of the others would have killed you without delay. Me, I'll give you a chance to surrender."

Amazo did not have the cruelty to laugh at her boast, but there was no way he could leave that statement unchallenged. "What…? Surrender? We have Kamijou Touma prisoner. You can't attack me without risking him and you've already failed to stop Miss Baker." He saw the girls eyes dart towards the massive tree beside him, and he shook his head dismissively. "And if you plan to attack the tree, don't bother! I've had a barrier around it for hours, powered by the same belief which strengthens me! You must have noticed it's been unscathed despite the chaos of our battle! Do you really think you can still win!? What on earth do they DO to children here, to make you like this? I mean, who even ARE you!?"

For the first time he could remember in a very long while, Terrence Bennett, alias "The Amazing Amazo", was the one looking amazed. That expression only cemented when the girl whipped out from a pouch a shiny disk, and aimed it like a sniper's scope at his forehead. He could not help but flinch at her final challenge.

"My NAME is MISAKA MIKOTO, and I'm the **GOD DAMN** RAILGUN! We'll stop you and save EVERYONE! Now, PUT HIM DOWN or you'll find out what that name really means!" Yet even as she shouted she dove to the side. A massive stuffed tail had whipped around and slammed where she once stood, smashing with surprising weight. Miss Baker's patience having ended, she manoeuvred herself between her mentor and his off-balance enemy. Without turning, the assistant called back to Amazo.

"Master, we have less than 5 minutes. If you wait until tomorrow, it will become difficult to control the spell for long enough." The man remained stunned, lost in his own thoughts. " **Master**." Finally he reacted; hand grasping his cross tightly, eyes now pressed shut.

"…Yes. I will begin." And soon the familiar light began to swirl about him. But it did not enlarge him further, or allow him to cast an illusion. This time it seemed to flow through his aura into the tree behind it. Since picking up Touma, the stars that Amazo wielded had been drifting about, gently awaiting instructions. Now they glowed and shimmered with a strange light, acting as magical conductors between their user and the tree he empowered. Tired of merely listening to the previous exchange helplessly, Touma tried his penultimate gambit.

"Hey, Amazo! Look, you don't have to-Gch! A-agh…" Instead of answering, the man simply squeezed his captive tightly against the shoulder against which Touma remained trapped. Pressed hard before, the boy now had the wind driven from him: there would be no negotiating. _Guess I just have to be ready for Mikoto to make her move..._

The girl in question was having nearly as hard a time. She couldn't quite reach any large mass of metal to propel herself effectively, and so dodged paw after paw with pure acrobatics. If she had not been so physically active in the past, it would have been hopeless. Even now the giant Siberian cat was incredibly quick and difficult to evade. Though its fluffy strikes should have been mostly harmless, each crash somehow left rippling cracks in the carbon tiles. A single hit would break bones at least. Worst, she had no real counter attack possible.

"Just run off, little girl. This is pointless. Try shocking me, hmmm? Or how about you shoot one of those fun little railguns you're so proud of? Then what will you do?" Miss Baker's taunting could not drive the esper into a mistake, but it certainly inflamed Mikoto's passion. Yet it not matter: hammer blow after blow rocked the carbon floor, and the girl was forced to sprint around the tree just to get close to Touma. Yet the woman on the cat was always too fast, cutting off openings and launching rapid counter-attacks.

Time was clearly running out: the tree had begun to glow more visibly than either magician ever had. Amazo cast a long, dancing shadow over the battlefield, and the mind controlled shoppers were transfixed. Since he had begun the spell's final steps, they had all stopped their work, no longer approaching the heroes. Strangely, slowly; synchronized, they began to root about in their pockets, pulling out phones.

Yet the level 5 had bigger problems as midnight drew near. No matter what she tried, there was no getting past Miss Baker to her master. Mikoto now stood, breathing hard, just outside the main entrance to the central clearing. Directly between her and the tree, all in alignment, were the two magicians, Baker obviously closer and Amazo about 30 feet further back. The power of the spell grew overwhelming, almost driving the esper to her knees.

 _Lightning… Is no good. No metal around either. Just one coin._ Her situation looked as grim as Miss Baker's cruel smile. Yet even with her head was bowed in exhaustion, weariness finally pressing in through the cracks in her mind's armor, even as all hope seemed lost…

…Mikoto smiled back. _Well… there is one thing left. I'll have to improvise... I hope he's got a good grip._

And she ran directly towards the assistant and her Siberian tiger.

Which did not hesitate to lift its front limb for a massive downward swing, raising it up to the ceiling. It was such a large toy that its paw barely fit between the ceiling's cross beams. And when it reached the apex, just before hurtling down to absolutely squash without fail a certain scientific railgun-

-A stream of lightning caught it. The swipe never came. The paw never swung.

Miss Baker glanced up quickly to see that the paw had expanded dramatically: it was now wedged within the ceiling's support structure. Though the size would redistribute itself over time to the rest of the plush animal, it temporarily prevented the attack. Cursing, the assistant could only watch Mikoto run straight between her steed's legs. Quickly taking direct control over of her massive feline tool, rather than swipe at the girl with another limb she let the creature fall limp. It would simply crush the girl beneath its weight. There was no way for her to escape now, but…

…Somehow Mikoto shot forwards, tugged ahead as if by an invisible rope. All the while emitting electricity from all sides in one final surge of strength.

Wrapped up in his spell, Amazo was only vaguely aware of the battle taking place between his assistant and the level 5. His concentration did waver, though, when the bundle of carpet he still carried over his shoulder juddered, hard. Squeezing down, he resisted the motion, but immediately realized it was not Touma fighting back. Instead it was a rather insistent pull from in front.

Even though his captive coughed violently and squirmed harder, the magician remained focused. Soon though, the pull got stronger: too strong. His eyes flashed open, unable to figure out what was affecting the carpet his arm was wrapped around.

He saw before him his assistant's mount flailing as it grew even further. While passing under, Mikoto had fed as much current as she could into it, and it was now too large to even move. Its back was already touching the ceiling, and it continued to swell like an overripe fruit. Amazo thought he heard an undignified squeal as his assistant dove from the tiger's now colossal head, but he was distracted by the little girl now rocketing up towards him. For a second, his grip on the boy loosened.

"Touma! **GET READY**!" Mikoto reached out her hand and pulled, as if trying to magnetically draw the boy towards her. For a moment Amazo was concerned, before he thought through the bluff.

 _No, she can't! He's not made of metal, and even if he was I understand his powers. Not even these damned espers can affect his right arm: that's what Catherine said! I've got him right where-!?_ His certainty was rocked by the sight of Touma shooting from his prison like a cork. The enlargement spell faltered: Amazo shrunk several feet with the carpet now weighing heavily on his shoulder, pinning him in place. His articulate mannerisms were lost: all that remained was utter disbelief. " **WHA-NO! H-HOW!?"**

The explanation was at first unclear: Touma rocketed forwards like a skydiver, arms flailing as he fought to control the terrifying rush of air against him. _She does this ALL the TIME!?_ He flew so fast that his jacket ripped itself open, just as he passed next to Mikoto in mid-air…

…Revealing the heavy coat of chainmail she had convinced him to don over an hour ago. If they had not tested it back then he would have thought she was crazy. [2] Even now, her words after the trial run echoed in his memory like a dire prophecy finally come true.

!~~~~~~~~~!

"…Hah! Like I thought. As long as it doesn't cover your hand, it works just fine. I can back you up now a lot better if you're wearing this! They'll never see it coming if you unexpectedly move with my magnetism, trust me. As long as you can handle getting into position, we can launch a sneak attack when we suddenly swap places... Oy, don't look so worried, you big baby, you'll be fine!"

"S-sure, but… does it really have to be one that hooks back up inside my pants? It… Ah, the binding catches in some uncomfortable-"

"YES! Otherwise it could just fly off over Idiot head if I tug too fast or at a bad angle! I don't care if it chafes, just deal with it! Girls have it a lot harder, you know…"

!~~~~~~~~~!

The boy firmly believed at least the first part of her speech now, if the horrified face of Miss Baker rushing up to meet him was any judge. As he had passed his teammate she had pushed off against him, granting them both more speed: she had also aimed him like a missile at the assistant. The woman in question was prying herself from the carbon floor, trying to avoid the fattened limbs of the tiger-steed she had abandoned. But now she could only watch blankly on hands and knees as the impossible projectile approached fist first.

Yet she still had just enough time to react. The fear in her eyes immediately turned to determination, and Touma realized he wasn't going to reach her fast enough to stop whatever spell she was planning. However, just when triumph transferred from his face to hers, a lightning storm of unprecedented violence enveloped their world, and all was forgotten in its blazing glory.

!~~~~~~~~!

If there was rule of physics that Mikoto knew well, it was the conservation of energy. [3] She had used that full advantage, first gaining velocity by pulling on the mass of metal Touma wore. Since Amazo had resisted that pull with his own weight and grip, she could use them both as an anchor. When the magician became distracted for a moment, it was enough to free her partner from his wrappings with a quick tug. Some deft manipulation of fields had allowed her to avoid crashing into him at high speed, but now she was directly on target to blast Amazo. She channelled her strength, but had made a fatal flaw.

All this time, Amazo had also been gathering power. Though it was mostly concentrated in the tree, a great deal of magical potential still coursed around him in rippling phosphorescence. His hand had never left his cross: he could cast a spell at any time and had already dropped the now useless carpet, freeing his other hand.

Massive amounts of energy were already pumped into the Stars of Bethlehem. It should have been surprising that a few hundred of the tens of thousand of tiny flakes grew to deadly size all at once. With a swipe of his free hand, they shot forth as one without any real aim, just as Amazo loosed an empowered illusion onto Mikoto's already strained mind. All it needed to do was distract her for a second, force her to hesitate long enough to be sliced to pieces. If she had even a moment she could blow away the metal stars and attack the magician directly. He had little time to prepare a personalized illusion, but Amazo had an image he felt certain would work.

Mikoto saw the stars accelerating her way, and generated the appropriate magnetic fields to deflect them. Yet in an instant, they disappeared. Everything did, from Amazo to the Christmas tree and every in between. The Dianoid was gone, replaced with a white void. And in that void, in the place of each weaponized star, floating in space like obscene angels…

…were hundreds of Touma's.

 _…What._

Each with a vapid smile on his stupid face.

 _What. WHAT._

Just like the one he had in her day-dream earlier that day.

No _. Oh no. Oh, no no NO._

And as one, they opened their mouths to speak.

 _NO NO NO... YOU... YOU DAMNED… I…Id…_

A choir of spiky haired angels, they sang out to her "Misaka Mikoto, I lov-"

!~~~~~~~~!

" **YYYOOOOOOUUUUUU DDDDDDAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMNNNNNNEEEEEDDDDDDDDD IIIIIIIDDDDDDDIIIIIIIOOOOOOTTTTTTT!"**

!~~~~~~~~!

"Aahh! Aiho-Sempai! What-what's happening!?" Tessou found shelter from the shattering glass and arcing currents of the streets lights under their shared Anti-Skill van. She was soon joined by her breathless senior colleague, who sputtered out her only answer.

"Don't ask me, I don't know!" She pulled her legs under just in time to avoid them colliding with an out of control automated droid. It was spinning wildly, struck by numerous bolts, before it slammed into its clone in a shower of sparks.

"The robots! They've gone… And the DIANOID, look!" All the outer lights on the building had been dark for hours, ever since the mall's security lock-down began. Now all the screens were shining a kaleidoscopic rainbow onto the cloudy sky and snow-covered city. As they did, it looked like the entire building was lost in a blur or rapid movement. Yet each effect lasted only seconds before the screens shorted out in blazing chain reaction of blown conductors. The building was dark again aside from a few glowing fires, and the chaos on the street was finally subsiding.

There was no logic to it. There was no sense. Yet Aiho could not ignore the reality around her.

"The whole district must be… What the Hell is going on in there!?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"A-aaahhh!" With a cry, Uiharu tore her head set off, throwing it to the ground. She had been coordinating with her partner right up until Kuroko's sudden silence just a few minutes ago. Trying to re-establish connection, she had been interrupted by a massive burst of static in her ears. Nearly startled off her chair, the judgement officer went immediately back to work, but not before gingerly picking up her tossed ear piece from the floor. Refocusing, the girl recapped her annoying lack of progress far.

It had proven impossible to really help Kuroko coordinate inside the Dianoid with anything more than advice and the map. The mall's internal biological computer networks were such a foreign entity that it was difficult to get using control from the outside. [4] The most Uiharu could do was access their secure storage sites and track what traffic went into and out of the mall's designated land line and wireless routers. Those were easily hackable, but they offered little in the way of concrete help. However, over the last 5 minutes, the Judgement officer had been tracking a strange flow of information coming through the mall from thousands of personal phones and tablets…

Unfortunately, the power surge had apparently affected her desktop: the whole system was crying for a reboot. Irritated, she flicked it off and on again, sliding across the room to boot up her backup. Even as she did, she thought long and hard about the strange flood of financial data she had scene bandied about on the servers. They would make easily visible spikes in the bandwidth at local banks, so Uiharu made a mental note to quickly set up a script to retrieve and compile some stats on what exactly was being accessed.

That was already secondary, thought, to the last digital event before the district wide crash. It must have been triggered by what she could only assume was an electronic deadman's switch. Some system had been programmed to detect possible network failures, electrical disturbances, or something like that. Just before they networks went under due to the power surge, it had beamed off a short batch of data. The package would have been invisible to most, but Uiharu's comprehensive tracking hacks had caught and logged it.

Unfortunately, that meant nothing if the computers on both ends were fried. It was all too likely: if her own computer had crashed with whatever had just happened to the city's power grid, it was hard to imagine what they were going through at the epicentre. Praying they had enough redundancies to refresh their own functionality, the girl logged back into her software and resumed her scanning, all the while trying to get back into contact with Kuroko.

!~~~~~~~~!

"Whoa! WHOA!" It was all Hamazura could do cover his head. Every single light above him had exploded as one, as did those within the stores nearby. Television monitors, computers, ATM's, and electric toys all had their circuits blown after erupting with power, even the ones the weren't plugged in. A little less threatening but just as surprising was the way the entire building had begun shaking like a can of paint in an agitation mixer. Hamazura could only guess that the anti-gravity machine in the basement was having some sort of fit. Luckily he was protected from the worst of it each effect by Accelerator's shielding, but the sudden technological apocalypse had given even the number 1 pause.

He stood there in hall, having dispatched the latest round of zombie-like security guards. They were considerate enough before to not annoy him too much, but now they tried his patience with their grasping hands and odd muttering. He had resorted to just knocking them out, no longer trying to leave them unharmed, but his patience for even that much restraint was wearing thin. Yet the powerful electromagnetic fields pulsing around him demanded attention. Curious, he felt for their source, taking minute control of the vectors at play to see where they lead. When he found it he almost, perhaps just slightly, grinned ironically at the familiar sensations. One incredible source of electromagnetic power, and one human sized zone conspicuously devoid of any effects.

"…Really. They're here too? …Of course they are."

"Uhm…W-who?" Hamazura was anxious to discover who could do this sort of thing, to ensure he stayed very very far away from them in the future, but was predictably ignored. Instead the level 5 renewed his pace. For up ahead, he thought he had caught sight of the store that had been his objectives for so long. His guardian gone, Hamazura felt the Spirit of Christmas hit him like a ton of brick-like fruit cakes. He fell to the floor, drooling in his sleep, and was soon left alone amidst the shattered wreckage of the mall's electronics.

!~~~~~~~~!

Touma blinked awake. _Where… What?_ He eyes could not focus at first. When they did, they saw only spots for a moment, relics from the light show Mikoto had put on. … _AH! Mikoto!_

He sat up like a rocket, but an ache in his forehead slowed him. Gingerly reaching for it, he realized his arm was pressed against something warm. Looking down beneath him, he rolled away with a yelp from the person he had been laying face-down on. He had not punched Miss Baker like he intended, but instead head-butted her. She was lying still except for the slow and steady rise of her chest, a red gash and bruise already appearing on her brow.

Trying to stand, he felt an uncomfortable twinge in a very sensitive place as the effects of his accelerated flight finally became felt. It took a few seconds of careful wiggling to unclasp the chain from the offending region and gently bring some life back to the area. Throwing off his jacket, he saw that the patches her had sewn on earlier still held. Smiling, he set to work taking off the heavy chainmail which had earlier saved him. He pulled it over his head and flung it to the floor with a rattle before regaining his feet.

The boy staggered over to the small form he saw, kneeling a short distance from the prone, normal sized body of Amazo. He sidled up to Mikoto carefully, before plopping down onto his rear next to her. " _Hey_." His voice seemed a little off-pitch: he coughed, clearing his throat and praying it was deeper before trying again. "Hey, you all right?" There was no response. "Misaka? You-" Her sudden intake of breath made him pause, but then she began to laugh, hard and loud. It almost turned manic at one point, but she soon trailed off.

"Whoops! Heheheh…" Embarrassed despite her glee, she stared down as she fiddled with her thumbs, spinning them in circles around each other. "I might have overdid that one." _Bit too much motivation..._

"…I'll say." Touma glanced around at the carnage around him. He suddenly became incredibly grateful there would not likely be a bill to foot for this particular disaster.

The only thing that remained intact on the open floor was the Christmas tree: every other stand, tent, and display was in disarray. Those that had not been twisted unrecognizably by Mikoto's powers were either gently smoking or reduced to ash. The true miracle was that the shoppers and store employees who had gathered round were unharmed: even at the very end of her control Mikoto had directed her attack away from flesh and blood. They were moving now, waking up since that the active effect of the Spirit of Christmas had been broken.

For on the neck of the prone Amazo, the cross he always bore had been ravaged. Black and twisted, they both watched as it finally snapped under its own brittle weight. Yet the magician himself looked surprisingly intact. Mikoto had not even directly zapped him in her attack, Touma realized, since he had no burns or markings. But seeing as how the stars he mentally controlled and were linked to him so directly had borne the brunt of the assault, it was not surprising he looked as stiff as a board. He twitched slightly now and again as Touma stared: the magician's eyes remained open and his lips gasping raggedly for air. He lived, but was juiced up with so much electricity he could probably power a toaster oven if someone brought one nearby. Yet it really wasn't him, or Miss Baker, or even any of the countless civilians who were on the boy's mind.

"So… You seem pretty good, honestly. Are you not tired after all… that?"

"…You know? Not really. I finally feel awake, actually." He was half-expecting such a nonchalant response from the wonder child he was lucky enough to have as an ally. Even so, her energy and determination never ceased to amaze Touma.

"…Huh." _Wow. What a girl. Then again, I guess I'm not in the mood to sleep right now either… That was insane…_ "So... Now what?"

"This." Still sitting, Mikoto aimed her last token, the one she had held onto. It was levelled right at the great Christmas tree that even now glowed with power. "He's out of it: the shield should be down. Sorry, Christmas, but I guess you can just call me the Grinch." Without fanfare or exertion, she fired off her railgun. It blitzed to the target, generating a brief shower of light and heat as it hit. The teens shielded their eyes, and when they could inspect the damage...

...The tree was unharmed. A shield of deep green, a wreath of evergreen and holly, had somehow engulfed the attack. Though it smoldered and charred in a 3 foot crater that nearly pierced it through, the protection was already growing back and the tree was undisturbed.

" **W-what**? How? He's still..." Mikoto quickly glanced around, trying to spring to her feet. Yet she stumbled, and her vision faded for a moment. The Spirit of Christmas was suddenly active again, as was the barrier Amazo had installed around the magical epicentre.

It was clear who had taken over the magic. For Miss Baker was standing just inside the glow of the tree, having limped her way over unseen. From her hand dangled the ornament that had once been encased in coal dust.

A quick lightning bolt slung by Mikoto did nothing: it only dissipated upon reaching the glow of mana, penetrating just a few inches this time into the wall of evergreen wreaths. Smug inside her impervious shield, the assistant began to laugh. It was not merely loud and cruel, but obnoxiously so. Her character had completely changed with the wild laughter, and as it ended a new intensity could be seen in her expression. Gone was the coolness, replaced by a terrifyingly sincere smile. Blood had trickled around her right eye, now dripping slowly from her chin, its trail slowly widening.

"Well... well! You've both made this so very interesting! You forced me to act a little sooner than planned, and even knocked me out for a second. You'll have to pay for **that** later."

"Wait, just stop this!" Touma tried one last appeal to sanity even as he cursed his earlier carelessness. _Damn it, I thought she was out of it! I hit her pretty damn hard, too..._

"Oh, it's too late for that, Imagine Breaker. And you too, Railgun. This spell is starting to get out of hand! Don't you realize!?" The two teens were silent, and so the woman pulled from her mysterious dimensional pocket a watch. She let it hang from its chain, swaying gently back and forth, revealing its face tauntingly. "It's Christmas Eve, by 2 minutes! Now that Christmas is so close, the compelling need to sleep is starting to fight against the anticipation of the day itself! The power of the Spirit of Christmas is growing faster than I can control now, faster than I can bleed off. Instead of just having to supply their belief, the afflicted are becoming central to its casting! They're countering its effects with their own willpower, recycling and using their own shared mana! Tell me, do you know what that means for them!?

"W-what? What does she mean by...?" Mikoto watched, exhaustion working its way back through her mind, as the colour drained from Touma's face. Realization had dawned. He turned to those shoppers nearest him, who before had been standing in the outskirts of the arena. Though they still held their phones, something had changed. Before they swayed gently: now they shook, twitching violently. Some staggered, nearly falling before forcing themselves upright. All the while, their looks of bliss never faded.

"…No!" _That means… they're all casting magic! All the espers here, and those touched by the ability development program… They're all in serious danger! They can't do this, it'll kill them!_ "W-wait, hold on, there's something-"

"Enough talking, boy. I know the consequences. Now you do as well. The sooner you let me do what I need to, the sooner we can be done here. They'll live if you just leave me alone."

"Not a **chance**!" Caution thrown to the wind, Touma ran forward, slamming his hand into the shield which protected the Christmas tree. At first he made headway, but soon he realized he could not push fast enough: the wall of pine needles that made up the writhing wreath grew back as fast as his hand drained them. But even as he resolved to push harder, to eat up all the power in the spell, he was taunted anew.

"You fool! All you're doing is placing more burden on the civilians! And if you do break through and defeat me, what do you think will happen to all this magical energy!? The explosion would easily rip this building apart and more!" Confidence fleeing, Touma jumped back and let the wall regrow fully. "Very good! Now, stay clear. You just being near makes this troublesome. Then again, it really doesn't matter! Nothing short of an angel could disrupt my work, and I don't see wings on either of you!" She laughed again, bleeding off her nervous energy, as the boy stood before the inviolable wall that separated them. He felt powerless to change anything, victory slipping from his grasp. Then he was distracted by a soft voice behind him.

"What's... going to happen to the shoppers...? ...And the employees...? T-Touma..." All around them, the civilians that had been waking up were returned to the Spirit of Christmas. Once again, they were reaching for their phones, muttering their festive thoughts. _No... Kuroko is with them... After she came all this way just to help..._ "We need... to stop her... But... What is going to-" Mikoto's faltering voice ground to halt as she pitched forwards, but before she could hit the floor-

-The boy caught her, and his hand rang out. "It's okay, nothing is going to happen! I promise!" She had finally succumbed to the newly empowered magic, but it was dispelled when the Touma placed Imagine Breaker back down on her head. His fingers meshed warmly within her chestnut locks. Alertness returning, she turned to look up at his honest expression, and all her worries melted away. "I promise you, everyone will be okay! We'll still save them!"

 _How… how can he always be this certain? The world doesn't work like that, you… you…_ Despite her thoughts, his optimism proved infectious. So she merely nodded, demurely letting him help her to her feet. Together they stood, wills renewed, refocused on their enemy. Yet there was only contempt to meet them.

"Ohoh, this again? She's such a burden, isn't she? Or are you going to fight me with one hand tied behind you back?" Mikoto's heart sunk, even as she tried to ignore the woman's jibe for the distraction it was. There was no way for her to prove the biting comment wrong, but Touma had a response only he could come up with.

"…It's on her head. Can't you see? Or did you forget the Japanese for -"

"…It's an idiom, Idiot!" _Well, that's one way to get my mind off it._

"…W-wha…? H-hey, wait, come on! That's unfair! That sort of thing doesn't really translate well from different languages, how was I supposed to know?"

"Pay more attention in English class, maybe!?" They could only bicker for a moment, though: it was clear the assistant had already moved on.

"Good... Good..." Miss Baker was muttering to herself, eyes closed with concentration. "I was worried, but the networks survived... There... Just a few more transactions..."

"...C...Catherine...?"

"..." Hearing her first name made the woman end her external mussing. Without interest, she glanced down at the body just 10 feet from her, outside of the tree's magical shield. Propped up on one arm, eyes half-lidded, the Amazing Amazo reached out for his apprentice.

"...W-what... are you doing? The spell... The S-Spirit of Christ... of Christmas...? This... This is wrong, you've perverted it... How... Wait. The necklaces? Corrupted it?" His voice remained unsteady, but his gaze was focused on the woman who was his assistant. Searching her face, the teens saw her familiar coolness return for a moment, before being replaced by her manic new facade.

"…So, even without your cross to guide you, you can still feel it? You do have some talent, I suppose. Not that it helped you any! It's a good thing I convinced you to put the final piece of this spell somewhere outside of your cross: it was to make the spell easier to steal, but even I never thought you'd let your primary focus get destroyed." The student's idle dismissal of her mentor jolted some life back into the magician's eyes, but where Touma expected confusion and Mikoto rage, they each saw only a deep, deep grief.

"...Oh, Catherine. I didn't try enough to understand you, did I?" The sadness in his voice almost drew something out of Miss Baker, but it was unclear what. Finally she shook her head, and shouted her harsh answer.

"...Fool of a man! You tried too hard. I was always planning to betray you, from the very start. You knew that, and yet you took me in! Trained me! I even warned you! ...Sentimental fool."

"...Yes, I am. But I knew then..." He paused, and show his head. "No, **you** know that... This is wrong! I can feel... what you're making them do! This is wrong, it goes too far! They do not deserve this!" Kneeling now, Amazo was fighting his own weariness, to stand before his one-time partner as equals. Yet he failed, and was forced to fall down to his hands. And as he fell, she taunted him.

"I do know. And I don't care." The magic that had been a glow before was now a radiant sun, blinding waves of incredible brightness. Touma could only imagine the strain being placed on the shoppers right now, but he was helpless to intervene. He could feel it when he attacked the first time: Imagine Breaker wasn't going to be able to disperse this in a way that would protect any one. "Just like you showed me, I'm putting my personal desires First. And what I desire is... Well, you'll all see in a moment. The last transaction just went through. For now, just watch. It'll all be over soon! Nothing, NOTHING CAN STOP ME!"

Nothing seemed truer: the glow was intense, the power so dense even Mikoto was aware.

!~~~~~~~~!

"You can't stop me, you stupid ~~~~ing pieces of trash! Don't make me kill you!" Accelerator was finding it hard to ignore just how annoying the guards were now. They no longer stayed down when a normal blow would have laid them out cold. Though slow, there were infuriatingly stubborn. Apparently not even a broken leg could stop them, as one limped her way towards the boy for another round. All the while they were invoking the holiday's name in a sing-song voice, over and over, a mantra that seemed to be giving them strength.

It was enough to seriously tick off the level 5, who had already had about as much Christmas cheer as he could take. The demented carollers had been wassailing him endlessly for the last few minutes, and it was intricate work to make sure the store didn't get damaged further by their ambling attacks and his automatic deflection. Yet it seemed his search was finally paying off, for Accelerator saw the copy of the picture frame that Hamazura had broken on that sidewalk hours ago.

It had been a surprisingly tasteful thing, even as it lay cracked on the snowy ground: A square with rounded corners, there had been slots for 5 photos. Four smaller openings were spaced in the cardinal direction, and in each slow had been a portrait of a member of Item. In the centre was a group snap shot of all four sitting in a lounge. It wasn't clear who had taken the photo, for it certainly seemed candid: Hamazura hadn't wanted to explain, but apparently he had set up a few cameras for this purpose alone. [5] Yet each member was laughing and smiling, seated on different sides of a sectional couch: even Mugino sported a grin behind her mug of eggnog. Beside her, Kinuhata was tossing chocolates at the two lovebirds diagonal to them, who were blushing slightly but throwing them back with spirit. It had looked like such a cozy, family memory, it had almost made the Level 5 sick. And yet...

And now Accelerator had finally found that frame's replica, to take for his own. It was the display model. The boxes of spares all around it had been wrecked, but somehow the most vulnerable remained intact. He held it now gingerly, relief he had not expected to feel flooding through him. Ignoring the wall of criminals in security uniforms who merely bounced off his reflection, he began to make his way back home. Even their Christmas chanting seemed a distant and unimportant issue.

Yet as he walked, he came across the body of Hamazura. The one who had led him here in the first place. Sneering at the disgusting slobber spreading from his slack jaw, the esper made to move past.

Yet as he left the level 0 behind, something twinged in his mind...

Hamazura was looking for one of these as well, after his own was broken.

Hamazura already had the pictures. Accelerator had nothing like that prepared.

Hamazura had clearly planned this gift out for ages. It meant a lot to the stupid ~~~~.

There were no other frames left intact. This particular frame had seemed to be very unique as well.

If he was honest with himself, it had been mostly Accelerator's fault that Hamazura's first frame had broken.

...Would it really be right to take this one?

"…Tch. Damn it... DAMN IT."

His final attempt to meet Christmas halfway wasn't going to work out. The realization shattered the icy dam of control in the level 5's mind. This entire evening had worn it down to a thin crust: it finally snapped. His eye twitched for a moment; his breathing grew erratic. He began to notice the criminal's again who all the while had been clawing at him, taunting him with their festive refrain. Finally, he could take no more.

"...Christmas? Christmas, huh...? Is that what you ~~~~heads all want...?" He reached out with his powers, and for the first time really investigated the strange field that seemed to be manipulating them. He had sensed it immediately, but it didn't matter enough to him then to do anything about it. That had changed.

"So... This is more of that crap from Russia...?" Accelerator recognized the vague shape, if not the particular flavour, of the strange vectors at work as magic. And as he sensed them, he tried to grip them, mould them to his will. He felt a blood vessel in his leg burst, but carefully minimized the damage. And he could feel something very hard, many floors above him, at the centre of the effect, wrapped in an astonishing amount of obnoxiously positive energy.

Yet he had dealt with worse. He knew he could not work any serious magic without a guide, but if there one thing the boy needed no instruction to do it was destroy. A veritable Grinch, or perhaps more like the mythical Krampus, he hardened his heart. It was already driving him mad to have to do something nice for that level 0, and to fail to do the same to those closest to him on the one day it really seemed to matter. Someone had to suffer for it all. Someone had to pay.

"That's **it**! I've had ENOUGH of this ~~~~ty holiday! All right, you ~~~~ing ~~~~~~~s! I hope you enjoyed it, because CHRISTMAS IS ~~~~ing **CANCELLED**!"

!~~~~~~~~!

The tree was still swirling with light, its power now cracking the Dianoid's floor. The ground shook, and long shadows danced raucously along the walls and ruins of displays. The tree was so bright now it was impossible to make out, leaving Miss Baker just a silhouette.

She could feel it, the magic reaching its apex. Soon, her final disappearing act would be ready. Every shopper and employee, from the youngest child up to the richest manager, had finished their last task. They were ready for the transition, as was her pocket dimension. All the power she needed and more was ready inside the Spirit of Christmas's hub, but as she reached to cast her final spell-

-she felt something dark and cold slither into her mind.

Recoiling only for a moment, it was enough. A competing intelligence had driven its way into the spell.

She could not believe it: it was behaving like no magician could, predicting or calculating every possible permutation in the densely woven magic. Yet it was not taking control of it, like Miss Baker's necklace had permitted. It was a virus, an infection. And it was seeking a core.

The tree's glow changed. It shifted in hue and texture: no longer was it a pure white. Ruddy streaks of reddish grey and even black were added to the illuminating pattern. They mixed together, swirling, and the magician who once was just an assistant found she was unable to pluck them out fast enough. Soon they overtook her ability to counter. Though she remained in control, she could not honestly call this her spell.

Looking on in horror, Touma, Mikoto and Amazo could feel the waves of malice surging out from the spell. The floor which had once shone with a heavenly glow now was a blighted hell-scape of flickering blood red. The civilians all around had trailed off their chanting. Faces went from blissful smiles to rapidly tightening grimaces. They fell as one and shuddered on the ground, as if trapped in a horrible nightmare, clutched phones scattered to the ground.

"No! NO! WHAT… What could be DOING this!?" Miss Baker was clearly flummoxed, yet she still analyzed the intrusion, trying to find a way around this final obstacle. Amazo, struggling anew to stand, shouted to be heard over the whipping winds.

"Catherine! Catherine, if we don't channel that tangled magic appropriately, the backlash will...! You must let me back in, I'll help you!"

"Shut up, you fool! I can fix this, I can!" As she perched on the brink of disaster, a girl's voice called out to her.

"Hey! You damned WITCH!" Mikoko had been dwelling on her own powerlessness long enough, for when the darkness had spread she realized she still had one last shot to fire. "We know why you did all this! Revenge on the management here... is that really worth all this!? Do you think you're the ones in the right now!?" Her surprise pronouncement jogged Touma's memory as well.

"R… reven… Hey, that's right! Amazo, you said this was about a 'vendetta' or something… Why are you so driven to do this!? Just stop, maybe we can help you!" He reached out his left hand, an honest olive branch.

"You… you would help…?" Miss Baker had never sounded so weak, so uncertain, as she stood next to a whirling vortex of distorted magic. Yet in her moment of vulnerability, her eyes drifted towards Amazo, and once again the cold wall of ice slid into place. "…Even if… There's nothing. Nothing you or anyone else can do." She turned now, facing the brutally warped light, and though no one could see, she smiled a wicked smile. She had found a way out. "…But I've still got one last move."

!~~~~~~~~!

Accelerator paused, gasping slightly from the pain. Something unexpected had happened. Yet it didn't matter. The guards around him were as quiet as the dead. The effect was gone, at least from the minds of those around him. He still held the picture frame, and Hamazura still slept on the ground.

With the deepest scowl he could muster, the Level 5 briefly knelt down. After a moment he stood again, and walked to the nearest wall. Blowing through it with ease he jumped down, heedless of how little battery life he had left, and the bruises that were forming on his body from burst blood vessel. He lightly hit the ground and flicked off his device, resting his weight onto the cane he had not needed for the last half-hour. He just wanted to get home and brood.

!~~~~~~~~!

With a sudden gesture, Miss Baker had inverted the prescribed parameters for the Spirit of Christmas. Intricately described rules and circumstances immediately flipped, grinding the effects to a halt just as a new set of influences was described, exactly opposite to the previous rules. As one the minds of the people cleared, yet they all remained unconscious, exhausted from their nightmare ordeal. Yet the most obvious symptom of the transition was the tree itself. Despite the red and black waves which it emanated, nothing about the Christmas tree had yet changed. Until now.

Almost instantly it shrivelled into a hard, black lump. Nothing green or shining remained: it was a like a black hole, a void or tear in the universe.

And from within, for a fraction of a second, Touma thought he saw something move.

But even that disappeared, and all that remained in the central area were the four combatants. It seemed like it could all be over, but somehow; incredibly, the magic had not been dispelled. Instead it had been moved, gathered into a new vessel, twisted again to a different purpose and target. It was now Miss Baker who glowed with the swirling black and red light.

"Revenge…" The woman paused, face warped with pain, as coruscating waves of power crashed from her audience. "That may have been his reason... If you two live, ask this washed up has-been what his original plans for tonight were. I'd like you to know just how fully he failed."

"Live!? What does... What are you-!?" Touma was grasping at straws, but decided it was now or never to strike: the woman had not stopped talking, but was still good 25 feet away. If he could just close the distance…

"…I was never planning to waste this magic on a few doddering old men. I need to change the world." Touma now broke into a sprint, racing towards the woman only to be slowed by the energy sloughing off from her. Still she spoke. "I had hoped to take a few thousand hostages for that purpose, all connected to me by the magic of the spell I stole. I don't know exactly what happened, but I have to improvise now..." She reached down, struggling visibly with the weight of the magic she best to her will. Yet with a gargantuan effort, she completed the motion, palm resting on the Dianoid's carbon floor. "...so I'll be taking everything else instead."

"Wait... You couldn't mean... CATHERINE, ST-" Amazo tried to reach out, but mid-syllable the impossible happened.

The floor beneath them vanished.

So did the one above, and the one below.

Every floor and everything in the building that was not touched before by the Spirit of Christmas vanished. All that remained, floating in space, were the people in the mall and the remnants of magical weapons and artifacts.

They hung silently for the briefest of moments. It was impossible to be sure, but Touma though for a moment that everything else had whisked into a single pocket, crammed into the leotard Miss Baker wore. Everyone left behind was now struck by the wintry wind of Academy City, caught hundreds of feet in the air before dropping, suddenly.

"-OP!" But it was too late.

The Dianoid had just been stolen. [6]

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] In case it's not clear: the candies weren't the only means of enforcing control. It's not explained here, but the necklaces are a much more expensive, intricate, and hard to distribute means of countering the Spirit of Christmas. So don't be surprised about those wearing them becoming like the rest: that was their true purpose all along.

[2] Afterwards, he was certain of it. She was absolutely mad.

[3] The only one she knew better was Ohm's law. It was amazing how often conductive resistance was an issue when you were an Electromaster.

[4] If you don't remember, another plot point of the Dianoid NT novel was that the mall had these super-complex-biologically-integrated computers running it. They're not massively important now, but this is for those who have forgotten that detail. They are supposed to be very quick and efficient, but for this story I'm assuming they are also very secure from tampering. Uiharu is amazing, but hacking a technically living (if non sentient) mind requires a different type of skill and tool-set than she is probably used to.

[5] In truth, he wasn't lying: it was just not in Accelerator's nature to believe anything he was told. Hamazura had even tried to employ some of Item's lower hires to take candid shots, but each had been caught and nearly obliterated by Mugino. That left only a few options that didn't endanger his own skin.

[6] Yes. You read that right. See you next update!


	24. Part 1: Chapter 20

**Sorry for the rushed upload: I barely had time to do all the editing I wanted to. Still, here we are! I hope you're ready for incredible action and long explanations, because you're in for both. See you Friday for the Epilogue!**

 **Chapter 20**

12:04 A.M., December 24th: The skies of Academy City

 _…Well, crap. Mikoto can't fly, can she…?_

As if taken from a cartoon, it took ages for everyone to start falling. Almost as if gravity had been as surprised as Touma was at the sudden development. Yet all too soon the descent began.

Miss Baker said nothing even though she fell along with her victims. She only mouthed something silently, beginning to fade away like before. Yet no one could spare her any attention.

Mikoto gave a little squeak of surprise before letting go of Touma, desperate to escape his hand and regain her power. _Crap! Need metal, g-got to save ever-_ A shouted warning distracted her, and she turned to face her one-time enemy. Their eyes met, and he lunged for her.

!~~~~~~~~!

Touma had no such distraction. He was staring with horror as everything left behind began to fall. Of the floors far below, all that remained were the magical presents and decorations which had spread the Spirit of Christmas. They rained down like snowflakes to the ground below, but it was the civilians who caught the boy's attention.

He could never have counted, but there were over 5000 shoppers in the mall that night and almost 1000 store employees, nearly all gathered between the 30th and 40th floors. Still asleep they fell like everything else. Intermingled with them were the weapons the magicians had used, falling at different paces thanks to air resistance. The enlarged stars fell noticeably faster, slicing through the air like they did everything else, while the stuffed toys almost drifted downward. The civilians were not so lucky.

There was nothing the boy could do to help them. There was nothing he could do to help himself. The only survivor might be Mikoto, and Amazo if had some convenient spell. He wondered idly if the man would keep trying to fight as they all picked up speed. Falling face down the wind whipped at his eyes, trying to force them shut. Yet he could see the hole the Dianoid left in the ground of Academy City below, rapidly expanding as he approached. He knew what he would find at the very bottom having fought there before, but something about that detail seemed important...

He twisted his neck around to find Mikoto, and when he did he saw both her and an incredible sight. She seemed to be falling much slower than him, slowing down even as he watched. But that was not the end of it.

Far off in the distance, some terrifying red monster was swooping in and swallowing up the falling bodies of the unconscious shoppers. It was 100 feet across, but even at that size it couldn't have eaten so many already. Yet a thousand people had instantly disappeared into its maw as he watched with more rapidly following. That was the moment Touma realized it was not a monster. It was not even some strange spell, or a bizarre Anti-Skill rescue vehicle.

It was a Santa hat.

Amazo's Santa hat in particular. Yet it was simply massive, billowing like a ship's sail or a titan's windsock. It was engulfing everyone, and he could hardly believe how. He returned to stare at Mikoto, and the he spiky haired boy watched her drift above and away from him, falling still slower, as he tried to piece together what was happening.

!~~~~~~~~!

Seconds before, Amazo's voice had cut through the cold wind to Mikoto as the plunge began. His arms snaked out and caught hers in an iron grip. Before she could fight it, his earnest plea sunk in. "Railgun! GET MY HAT! We can save them!"

There was no time for hesitation. The girl reached out with her mind for the hat, which she could surprisingly sense. She realized how wired with technology it was, threaded through by metals and alloys. It also remained huge, leftover power from Amazo's enlargement not yet drained, so it had been left behind by Miss Baker's teleportation. Presumably, it and everything else that had been magical was supposed to have been whisked away to claim the hostages and eliminate the evidence: that had all changed when the Spirit of Christmas went haywire. [1]

It was at that moment, as the esper's fall accelerated, that she recognized that hat. It was the same one as from the stage show, which could expand to ten times its normal size or more. While that was thanks to the advanced synthetic fabrics of Academy City it was made from, for now it was only magically enlarged. _… So what would happen if I shocked it!?_

The experiment bore fruit instantly. Though hundreds of feet away Mikoto energized an electric current linked between random conductive objects, and soon the hat was larger than a building, expanded far beyond its design. It fell slowly and the girl used its air resistance to slow her down with it. Yet she could not stop there. She placed her trust in Amazo, and swung the hat like a mighty butterfly net.

It collected up a big clump of people, but she could not feel it get any heavier or harder to move. They were bunched together for the most part, so it was quick work taking in hundreds at a time. In a flash the north side was done and Mikoto moved around to the east. She spun around with the hat, catching sight of the magician as she turned. The man seemed to be casting something, sweat already forming despite the cold. From his anguished expression whatever he was doing was not an easy task, but Mikoto had no time for sympathy. She just swung and swung and swung, catching all the people as fast as she could force the hat to move.

She was managing to hold her relative position in the centre of it all by tugging on the many wires and cables which had once tethered down the Dianoid. But it was only possible to do so for vertical motion: the girl still fell since there was no time to focus on slowing down. Luckily the hat was so large it acted like a bizarre parachute, but that could never be enough. I simply let through too much air. If it had enough wind resistance to save her completely, it would be impossible to scoop through the air without tossing her from the area. And so, even as she fought to save everyone, Mikoto began to think about how she was going to save herself and one very specific other person.

That was when she saw Touma.

He was already far below her, looking up. He had reached the halfway point, and Mikoto had only just saved a similar portion of people. She didn't stop her efforts but called out to him, her shout almost not reaching. Even as she did, she fought for a little more power, reaching out to bring him up to her with magnetism.

"TOUMMAAA!" _I need to save…!?_ Her powers did nothing.

His chainmail was gone.

Whatever Magic Amazo was doing could never save him.

He was going to fall. He must know it.

Yet still the boy smiled.

"Don't worry! I'll catch you! Just save them!"

The level 5 could hardly believe her ears. Despite the impossibility of it all, despite all the realities of the world fighting against him… She believed him. And so she nodded.

Mikoto swung back around and finished catching civilians. Most were quick and easy to get to, all grouped together: there were only a couple up at the very top, almost out of eye-sight. Yet she gathered them all, hundreds of feet above her now.

There was less than a hundred feet left for her to fall, but she had done it. The sky was empty of people now, except for herself, Touma, and the magician clinging to her arm. It had all taken less than ten seconds, but Amazo was ashen and shaking. His power all used up, there would be no easy escape for him. With all her might Mikoto drew the hat down towards them, at the very limits of her range and further. It shrunk as it plummeted, magic finally drained, and when it reached them it had only its scientific expansion left.

Mikoto saw that they were at the end of the line. The Dianoid had left a huge crater three stories deep, with an even deeper but narrower pit lowering down into darkness at the larger pit's centre. That was where she and the magician were falling, presumably just after Touma. However deep it was there was still not enough time to save them: the cables she had used earlier had finally passed out of range, and there was nothing metal of any real size any direction aside from the hat. They were going to land at full speed.

And yet the magician did not seem distraught. On the brink of consciousness, he smiled blearily, and tried to speak to the girl whose arm he finally released. He must have realized that alone, she might be able to use the hat to break her fall enough to survive.

"We… did it… Save… your…!?" Amazo's last words were muffled by a sudden rush of fabric. It wrapped around him completely before Mikoto shoved it back upwards and at an angle, just as she passed the lip of the deeper central hole. The magician's speed was slowed enough to land safely on the floor of the crater, but his rescue drove her down even faster.

 _Equal and opposite… Well, this is it._

For a moment, time slowed. In this brief window of peace, Mikoto had time to think. And reflect. And then do some mental math, with her characteristic speed.

… _Wait a minute._

The walls of the vertical tunnel were still rushing past, but the girl realized something before her impact. She had plummeted from great heights many times before: something seemed different this time. She did the simple gravitational calculations in her head instantly: she should have hit the ground within 10 seconds of falling, even considering that she had used the hat as a parachute of sorts. Yet it had clearly been longer, she was certain. Unless she had seriously underestimated how much she had slowed herself earlier, she should already be a pancake.

Yet that hardly mattered. Even if she was falling too slowly to explain, the ground was coming up too fast. Mikoto fell back first and watched the tops of nearby buildings disappear as the walls of the deepest, inner cavern grew too high. Idly she wondered how deep this hole could be.

That was when she landed.

!~~~~~~~~!

The first thing she noticed was the pain.

Or rather, the lack of it. But she had certainly hit something. And she was actually still falling, just very, very slowly.

Spreading out her arms in wonder, she angled one to poke an elbow onto whatever it was she was riding on.

It was not cold, hard carbon. It was not stone or plastic.

It was something softer.

Something warmer.

Something surprisingly familiar.

It grunted, still winded from a sudden blow.

"Oooff… My g-gut… hey, watch your elbow…"

Mikoto would always recognize that voice. She twisted about, flabbergasted, but somehow Touma had been true to his word. He had caught her.

Together their fall slowed even more, until they balanced in the open air...

Before rising back up several feet.

They went up and down, a lethargic yo-yo, for a few seconds. Eventually they stabilized and merely hovered. Twisting far enough to look past her saviour, the girl caught sight of the answer.

"So..." The boy finally spoke, lifting one arm from where it had been wrapped around her waist to scratch his chin. "While you were saving everyone, I had time to notice we were falling straight in this familiar looking pit. And, I remembered it from the last time I was here. I figured, you know, if it's Anti-Gravity Machine is holding the Dianoid up, it's probably doing it from below and not actually touching the mall itself, right? So the spell... It wouldn't have taken it."

Not 10 feet below Touma's back, in the very lowest part of the Dianoid's foundational floor, was the barely functional anti-gravity machine. What had once elevated thousands of tons was struggling to recalculate the forces it needed to support just two teenage students. It suddenly occurred to Mikoto what had thrown off her earlier calculations: gravity wasn't pulling with the standard strength the whole time. The effect never would have saved everyone, but it had just enough power to save Touma and her.

Yet the machine had finally had enough. Perhaps it was still weakened from the Dianoid's last incident, or maybe it was just temperamental to begin with. Despite being shielded and protected by dozens of redundant circuits and back-up power supplies, the sudden loss of its programmed standard load threw its computers into a disarray that multiple magician's and level 5's could not match. Unable to sustain its internal reactions with such low weight parameters, it was gently powering down in one final tantrum. Mikoto and Touma were slowly lowered until the boy's back bumped lightly onto the top of the great spherical generator. Soon their hair stopped waving from its lingering forces, and then the anti-gravity was gone for good. They lay there in the air, staring up at the clouds which still drifted in the night sky, until the first flakes of snow began settling on their noses.

"…By the way. Good work, Mikoto. That was pretty... " _...Don't say 'amazing', anything but 'amazing'..._ "...Awesome."

"…You too…" _...God damn it, you're really going to make me say it you damned, stupid, amaz... Idiot._ "T-toum…a."

!~~~~~~~~!

It took them several minutes to climb a spare emergency ladder back up to the main crater's floor, but when they arrived Touma could only exhale in passive aggressive exasperation.

"…Sure, NOW you guys show up!"

"You handled things well enough." The tall, red-headed boy idly tossed his expired cigarette away before lighting another. Taking a deep drag, Stiyl Magnus leaned back against a random bit of rubble and turned away. "…Well. No one died, anyway." Seemingly done, he kept his eye on the twitching lump of fabric that was Amazo and his magic hat, leaving the second figure to fill in the space of the conversation.

"Yo, Kami-yan! Good stuff! I've gotta hand it to you, you sure got here fast!" The Necessarius magician's blond companion was more emotive, somehow ignoring the biting cold in just an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. "But how did you know there was something going down? Your apartment was empty when I checked in a few hours ago!"

"I didn't know! And hey, why didn't you!? These were magician's, you normally drag ME into things like this before they get started!"

"Give me a break, he's not exactly high profile. And I knew he was coming to town, I just thought he was ACTUALLY here to put on a show! He hadn't done anything magical for years. I mean, even magicians sometimes retire!" Tsuchimikado Motoharu wasn't angry, despite his volume. [2] If anything, he was enthusiastic, perhaps even energized. Perhaps because for once he didn't have to cast any magic through his esper intolerance. "Anyway, none of that matters now. You got him, case closed! Though did you have to let him destroy the building first? This is going to be hard to explain..."

Mikoto had just been watching this whole time, cautiously evaluating these two acquaintances of Touma. She recognized the redhead as the one Touma had run off with during the sport's festival and the blonde as one of the boy's classmates. Yet their identity's didn't bother her as much as the fact she was being left out of the conversation. As if she didn't matter at all in what had just transpired. When she saw her opening, she took it with alacrity.

"A-ah! It's not destroyed!" She looked around at the chaos of crashed toys and Christmas presents within the 500 foot crater and realized how insane that sounded. "I MEAN, it's gone alright! But, it teleported, I guess. Miss Baker – the other one, she took it. She got away…" Tsuchimikado's eyes narrowed, but it was Stiyl who spoke first.

"…I see. That's why it felt like dispersion, and not destruction… Must have been some sort of pocket dimension. Not impossible. I've heard of houses and even mansions being hidden within folded space in legend, but…" He glanced around at the void that had once held the Dianoid. "…This might break a few records. I wonder what myth a protestant would use to pull this off."

"Well, we can find out right now. Hey, Amazo-dude. Hey there, Earth to Mister Terrance Bennett. I know you're awake. No funny business, now." The secret agent of both Magic and Science had been idly tapping the lumpen hat with his foot, and the sullen magician slowly emerged. He was still frightfully pale as he clutched the hat to him for warmth, but he hardly shivered. He just sort of sat there in a daze. "So, what's the deal? What's this about an assistant I'm hearing? You been training someone on the sly?"

"...I have no reason to tell you anything, Treaty-dog..." Though his words were bold, it was a hollow effort. The fire and energy that had once characterized Amazo was gone. All that was left was Terrance Bennett. First he looked up into the sky in silence, and then at Touma and Mikoto. "But you two, I will explain to. I will be brief, for I imagine these newcomers will want to rush me somewhere for more enhanced interrogation." The man huddled back into his hat and now stared vacantly forward. "But know this: I never intended to place anyone at danger. I took risks, yes, but this... This was never my goal. How... how could it have been..."

"So then what was? Do you have any idea how stupid that all sounds, now?" Momentarily shocked by Mikoto's harsh words, Touma realized that they were somehow what the magician needed to hear, for his eyes refocused. "You still put yourself ahead of them and disregarded the threat! That can't go unacknowledged!"

"Yes. You are right. Unfortunately... Well, I will discuss Miss Baker in a moment. You somehow already know about my relationship with the Dianoid's new owners, yes? My goal was to put them out of business, once and for all. I will not say more, and I do not regret making them my target. The plan itself was simple. If I had enough time inside the mall, where I knew they would be holed up, I could trap those managers within and gain access to their minds. I told you before, Kamijou Touma, that my spell is not mind control. I did not lie, but you have seen for yourself how persuasive a good illusion can be. Regardless, their minds were just the tool: I really wanted access to their and the Dianoid's bank accounts."

"...So you were just robbing them in the end?" Touma scratched his head thoughtfully. "That's kinda lame, to be honest."

"That was just step one, and small part of this whole plan. You see, it wouldn't have really mattered to them in the end: they all have insurance, and the money would not be permanently lost. When you're that rich, there is always a way to get richer. However, I had to recompense the innocents in the mall somehow. That was why I had each shopper and employee wire the Dianoid their direct deposit information."

"...What, you think you're Robin Hood or something? Steal from the rich, give to the poor?" Mikoto's raised brow and mocking allusion did not offer much sympathy, but Amazo still smiled an empty smile.

"Perhaps it was a vain gesture. But that is what a stage magician can do: besides, I have no use for that kind of money. My primary goal was to create political and financial fallout from the Dianoid being rocked by yet another crisis. No investor would touch the place after a second attack, and the owners themselves would be seen as unlucky pariahs on the world stage. They would also be hit by hundreds of lawsuits: do you understand the promises they had to make to the retail chains operating within the mall again after the last event? You may laugh, but after the Spirit of Christmas they would have never gotten another contract with any of those labels or their parent companies. Instant ruination. The Dianoid would be left an empty carbon mausoleum to pay taxes on, which nobody else would want to buy or shop in for its reputation and poor safety record. In short, the owners would still be rich by anyone else's standards, but have nothing to show for it and no way to get rid of their legal burdens. Just paying off the loans they took in remodeling the the mall would have taken years, if not decades, if my plan had worked. The civilians would be fine, the owners ruined essentially forever, and the Mall left untouched." The magician paused here, but was nearly instantly interrupted by Stiyl.

"But that's not what happened. So what did?" The cigarette crackled in the silence, and eventually Amazo sighed with a shake of his head.

"...Yes. What did?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"Wow... I really hope they believe me, because this is going to sound crazy." Uiharu leaned back in her swivel chair before reviewing one last time at the hastily typed report she was about to fire off to Anti-Skill. It was worded to sound as plausible as possible, yet even to her it seemed ridiculously nonsensical. At least it distracted her from Kuroko's angry voice in her ear, which was even now raving about having failed her Onee-sama and having to be restrained by medical personnel for testing and isolation. [3]

 **Emergency Case Log #89: Addendum File**

Officer: Uiharu Kazari, Judgement Branch 177

Location: Dianoid Mall, School District 15

Date: 23rd/24th December

Addendum File Designation: C/1-4, with C/5 and onwards left open.

 **Entry C/1 Name: Summary and Time-Frame of Electronic Bank Transfers**

 **Summary:** Between the 23rd and 24th days of the month of December, an additional development in Case Log #89 was noted. It involves 13 local and 5 international banking institutions and 5736 personal finance accounts, 1 business account, and 2 unregistered accounts, one of which has since gone missing. All are listed in File C/3. Below is a rough-draft schedule of events which pertain to this addendum.

 **December 23** **rd** **, 23:29:** The first event starts at this time. One after another, the owners of the Dianoid requested digital access to their personal assets and the assets of the Dianoid Company Ltd., newly reformed after the original companies dissolution following the previous terrorist event. Due to the complex security methods, this took some time, but complete access was granted by 23:52. At this point, essentially all funds were transferred to the now missing unregistered account. The total amount is unknown as of now, but is conservatively estimated at 13 Billion Yen. Much of this reflects the remains of loans the Dianoid's owners took out for earlier purposes: see original Case Log report. As such, its loss effectively renders the company insolvent. A large portion, roughly a Billion yen, was immediately transferred to the second unregistered account. This secondary account has been traced back to a known Academy City mercenary group: see File C/4 for information on likely connection to criminal Joy Sergeant.

 **December 23** **rd** **, 23:53:** Somewhere within the Dianoid, an ultra secure burst of data transmission was released. It sent a command to a remote server, which immediately posted on over 100 different message boards a small text and image file. Nearly all were contained quickly by an unknown source, but is it likely that at least some of the details it was meant to publicize have gotten out. The file itself was recovered on route to its posting by this officer, and is available in File C/2, while basic information on the Rosslyn Roosevelt the files mention is contained in File C/4, and for theories on why this data burst is likely related to criminal Joy Sergeant as some form of insurance against treachery. More speculation will be posted to File C/5, when ancillary teams access and add to this initial report.

 **December 23** **rd** **, 23:55:** Within the Dianoid, 5736 separate requests were made to the aforementioned banking institutions. Each was made through a portable computing device, over 70% of these cases through phones. Nearly all of these requests were granted by automated computers within the banks's infrastructure, and since no human was monitoring these programs at the time no bank staff noted or questioned the timing of so many transactions at once. The Dianoid was able to handle the broadband strain easily, and the information was routed internally to a centralized location.

 **December 23** **rd** **, 23:58:** The now missing account, containing the assets that the Dianoid's owners had transferred, authorizes the direct deposit of its entire contents into the shoppers accounts. This process was completed within a minute: the sum is currently unknown, but File C/2 lists available data so far. More information can be retrieved from the banks, but for now a tentative estimate places the total amount of money transferred is 6 Billion Yen, split even between every personal account noted: 1.05 Million yen each. The remaining 7 Billion stays in the unregistered account.

 **December 23** **rd** **, 23:59:** A District wide power failure, cause unknown and centred on the Dianoid, erupts. It is assumed related to these banking developments. See File C/4 for possible theories, the most likely being a specialized EMP or a destabilization in the Dianoid's Anti-Gravitational engine. [4]

 **December 24** **th** **, 00:01:** Backup systems and networks within the Dianoid come online. Though most areas remain without power, the banks were all located far enough away they experience no serious run-time loss. After a minute, a new series of requests from the same 5736 portable computing devices are processed. This time, each user withdrew from their account the maximum single amount possible. This value is for most shoppers lower than what was originally deposited from the Dianoid, but a few shoppers had such such that they actually returned more money than they were originally given. The final sum within the unregistered account before it disappears from the servers is estimated at 17 Billion Yen. Tracing it should eventually be possible, due to the massive number of transactions made to it back and forth, despite the interruption of power and other issues.

 **December 24** **th** **, 00:04:** All networks and systems within the Dianoid disappear from the grid completely, and remain offline as of 00:12. As of now it is unclear why or how. Further updates will be listed in Case Log #89: File C/5, when created.

 **Conclusion** : It is unclear exactly why the money was transferred to individual accounts before being withdrawn again. There are no compelling digital reasons why, and it will in fact make future tracking easier. This will also be further explained in Case Log #89: File C/5. For now, it is advised that affected banks and individuals be notified immediately, to lock down possible further transactions and begin insurance payment procedures.

"I guess this'll have to do..." Just as she sent the package out, she glanced at the upcoming bulletins from networks she had been monitoring. Anti-Skill's secure line particular was going crazy with discussion of a strange new development. "...Wait. What does this mean, 'missing", exactly?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"...So you suspect Miss Baker's betrayal has something to do with this "Rosslyn Roosevelt" you were backed by? Another American-based capitalist..." Amazo nodded glumly, and so Stiyl finished summarizing. "...But for right now, you don't know what either of them really want?" Stiyl's disbelief was obvious as he spat to the side, but Amazo could only shrug.

"Essentially, yes. I know that Miss Roosevelt was interested in magic, but her end of the deal was simply to get a portion of the funds. She also implied in our first meeting that she had a personal reason for contacting me in particular, but I assumed it was because she though she could bait me to attack the Dianoid once I knew my old enemies were there. She was right, and her resources helped me to mass produce the candies and spiritual props I needed for this spell. I suspect she got her money, and more besides. She is a manipulator, I'm sure, but I didn't care if I got my revenge."

Here the man paused for a second. The hurt in his eyes had never fully faded, but it always renewed before mentioning a certain topic. "As for my... As for Catherine, I do not know. She never opened up to me during her apprenticeship, not truly. And... We didn't exactly meet in the most standard fashion. All I know is she has a goal which drives her, and that she will clearly go to great lengths to achieve it." Mikoto snorted her disgust, brushing away some snow which was accumulating on her head.

"I'll say, it took everything I had to catch..." Suddenly it hit her. "AH! I nearly forgot! The people, where did you-"

"They are in the streets just outside, around the camps the police had set up. They will be best equipped to handle them, now that they are all waking up. I had nowhere prepared to send them you see, so I adapted on the fly. I commanded the hat to do a simple sorting function: it's complicated to explain, but essentially I told it to group like with like, and spread the civilians who were affected next to other large groups of people." [5]

"...Oh, like Anti-Skill!"

"Yes. They should be waking up very soon, I expect. And unless that last dark twist did more than I suspect, their memories should also be gone, or at least be very hazy. The spell's climax had that built in function, you see. Just like how in the stories, Children never quite remember if they heard Santa or not as he made his rounds."

"You really did have this all as a neatly little packaged spell, didn't you?" The blonde haired spy almost seemed impressed, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. He was looking up into the sky, trying to divine meaning from the omnipresent cloud cover. Yet the snow just kept falling.

"What can I say: the shape had been planned for a long time. Still, I suppose it is time to go. I won't resist." Standing up on shaking legs, Amazo seemed a much smaller man than he had on stage. His once thick hair was drenched in sweat, and he hardly seemed to feel the cold so deep was his exhaustion. Though he nearly fell immediately Styil caught his arm, upon which the once proud magician was forced to lean heavily. "I don't know what it's worth, but I'm sorry, to everyone and especially you two. I... have much to think on."

"And a lot of time to do it. Get moving. Spy, you handle the cover up. My wards will last another 20 minutes once I leave, but then everyone will be able to enter." With that pronouncement the Necessarius magician lead away his captive, whose fate Touma did not want to dwell on. It was then something problematic crossed the spiky haired boy's mind.

'Uhm... What exactly **are** we going to do to explain all this? I mean, the place is gone. Just gone. Almost everything has vanished!" The last of the magical debris had long since settled on the crater of the building, where it intermingled with a number of surprisingly undisturbed boxes. It looked like the teleportation spell hadn't recognized every piece of the basement's floor as part of the Dianoid itself, meaning small patches of carbon tile remained intact, as did the things on it. Organized boxes and pallets contrasted with the debris of twisted metal stars and the remains of the magical stuffed animals.

"Ah, don't worry, Kami-yan! I've got it covered. I'll just whip something up about an unknown gemstone or something, and say they used the Anti-Gravity machine down there to take the building, or use it to try power something carbon related. It's not like they've got anything else to believe: besides, I'm sure the directors are going to be as anxious to hide the truth here as anyone, so they'll either jump right on-board or concoct a similarly ridiculous explanation. You two just head on home, and let this guy handle the clean up!" With that, the double agent walked away, signalling an end to the conversation by flicking open his cellphone and making a quick call.

Soon it was just Mikoto and Touma, standing near the centre of a 20000 square feet of hexagonal crater ringed by sheer walls reaching several floors up. They slowly made their way over to the perimeter, the esper all the while trying to figure out a way to lift Touma out of their predicament without having to carve a staircase out with iron sand. Yet in a moment, she realized she was walking alone. The boy in question had stopped to tie his shoelace, but now sat quietly on a random cardboard box. She almost went to impatiently drag him out, when she realized that they were alone.

"...U-hm..." _...What do I... A-ah... I..._

"Let's take a second, Misaka. I'm still a little winded from that climb out of where the gravity machine thing was." She nodded slowly, and approached the boy. As she did, Touma noticed there was no other seat for the girl. Scooting over a foot, he watched her stare blankly. He patted the open space invitingly, and watched the girl blush hard as she realized. Yet her ordeal in the luxury bathroom hours ago must have steeled her somewhat, for she gingerly took the space next to him. After a second the boy spoke his mind, his real desire for stalling their return home clear.

"...You know, it was different, not doing things like I always do." Mikoto laughed, clearly still tense since her response was immediate and rushed.

"What, you mean recklessly, blindly, and haphazardly, all while obstinately and perversely ignorant of anything resembling a plan or common...?" _...Well crap, that was a little heavy-handed..._ She blushed, embarrassed by how much she apparently cared about his battle strategies, but Touma just chuckled.

"…O-ouch, but yeah. What you said, at least I think anyway... It was definitely different. But… It was good this way. This time, it wouldn't have made sense to just fight them immediately because I had no clue what anyone was even fighting for or what was going to happen. Plus I would have had to punch a lot of innocent people, and that just sucks. Usually, Index or someone tells me what to worry about when it matters, but this time time... Well, I suppose things worked out pretty well this way, and it felt good to be the one with a secret plan for once! So… W-what I'm saying is, thank you for the help."

"I did it for my own reasons, too! I HATE mind-control crap... A-and, you know you don't have to s-say that, I'll always help."

"I know! I doubt I'll forget any time soon, especially after seeing you that time in Russia-"

"I worked HARD to get that plane! And YOU decided to go for an arctic polar-bear dip excursion instead! Seriously, what were-"

"A-ah, uhm, how about we just let bygones be bygones? I mean, we're here now, right!?"

"…Yeah. All right."

By now the magicians were long gone, and the Stiyl's isolation spell remained intact. So they were alone, surrounded by the random debris left over from the magical attack. Deformed stars of every size were scattered around the field, interspersed among oddly untouched boxes of supplies which had been in the basement when the building was stolen.

Touma realized his seat was in fact a spare supply of Christmas themed decorative ribbons when his side of the box caved in, and a few festive strands were expelled as he fell inwards. Stifling a giggle, Misaka moved closer to the box's edge where the cardboard was stronger, all the while measuring the distance between them down the nanometer. Yet if she was incredibly expectant of **something** happening, if vague on precise details, the boy had something else on his mind.

"…You know, I really didn't think you'd forgotten my name that fast." Though he faced forwards, he inclined his head with a cheeky grin towards the now flustered girl next to and now slightly above him. _It's a good thing I'm on her left side: teasing her is just too fun, but it'd turn deadly fast if it wasn't for Imagine Breaker._ Yet when he did look up at his reliable partner, his intentions short-circuited.

Mikoto's eyes were as wide as saucers and her lips were pursed like she had just taken a particularly sour mind-control candy. Though he could not read minds, he was fairly accurate in his assessment of her thoughts.

 _ACCK! AGGH! CRAP CRAP CRAP STUPID IDIOT DON'T BRING THAT UP NOW! EVERYTHING WAS PERFECT JUST PERFECTLY FINE BUT NOW-_

"I-I mean, that was you last time as well, wasn't it?" Now he turned his head away a little, surprised at his own sudden embarrassment. _Wasn't I looking for that resp…Oh, well, I guess… Hmmm._

"…E-eh? W-what do you mean...?"

"Back during the magic show. And at the climax of the fight with the magicians. I'm pretty sure I heard my name, anyway." It was likely for the best he wasn't facing the level 5: if he had he might have been scared away from finishing by the ghastly expression of humiliation and stress Mikoto bore. Yet she held onto her reins long enough for him to finish, even though he paused to thoughtfully scratch his chin. "I guess if I just want to hear you call me by my name, I just have to get captured or something. Or maybe just get stuck in some life-threatening-" He was finally cut off, but her voice was no longer tense.

"You I-idiot… That's the last… That's the last thing I want."

"Heh. Me too. Well, nearly." He really was finding it difficult to turn and face her again, but he continued teasing. "Maybe we can work out a better solution. S-someday, anyway."

"…Yeah."

"Names are a tricky thing, aren't they? Misaka?"

"…Mmhmm…" A sudden funny thought occurred to her. "…Heh. Heheh… Reminds me of when I was first meeting my sisters. Despite how horrible it all was at the time to process, part of my mind was figuring out what to call them. I don't know how many names I went through trying to…" This time she cut herself off. "…Trying to…" A horrible realization slowly blossomed. "…S-sisters…?" Suddenly the empty lot seemed very quiet indeed.

Quiet, until a certain spiky haired boy cleared his throat. "…M-Misaka... Misaka… D-did you also… happen to…" Looking back now, he saw how white and stiff his friend had become. Changing tact, he did his did his best to hide his own rising stress. "H-have you seen any of them around lately, I mean? Like, Imouto and the rest?"

She shook her head jerkily, and the boy came to a possible explanation. Touma went on, his sudden conviction deepening.

"…Do you think maybe they've been lying low for a while?"

There was a long pause, and then maybe the slightest of nods.

"Maybe so that… So that we wouldn't feel like we... we should feel obligated to get them something for Christmas…?" _If no one else, the clones realize the problem their sheer numbers can cause… they must have known how hard it would be. But… how could they not have predicted Misaka would react like this!? I have to give them a serious lecture afterwards, or at least to Imouto..._

Understanding that selfless act of kindness finally burst Mikoto's dam of emotions. She began to shake, head hanging low to disguise the tears streaming down her cheeks. After a few seconds Touma pulled himself back up out of the box to set level with the girl next to him. He gingerly moved closer, anxious to support her, when he heard her speak.

"…Oh no..." _It's official. If I wasn't before, I'm now the worst sister of all time. Ten thousand. Pretty much ten thousand. What the hell am I… I can't afford anything more than the postage it'd take, let alone gifts themselves, and what do I get them it can't all be the same thing because they're all unique and special and need to know that so it can't just be mass produced trinkets-_ She finally swallowed, very very hard, when the depth of her failure finally choked its way to her voice. "…how am I going to get-" And froze at the hand on her shoulder.

"How are **we** going to get them this many presents, you mean. I mean, I forgot too. And I've already covered everyone else I've met recently; there's no reason to exclude your sisters."

 _…And there you go again, you big idiot. Always finding your way into my problems. There aren't supposed to be any big, damn heroes that come in: I knew that when all this started. But then you show up, and give me unreasonable expectations about the world. Like I can maybe expect something good to happen, sometimes, without reason or complications. Like maybe… Like I deserve… something good. You big damn heroic idiot… you really need to learn that you can't just do that a girl. I know what this world is like, as well as you do, but you can almost… make me believe… I guess there's only one way to make this clear to you, huh? That you can't just **do** that. I guess I'll have to give you a piece of my mind, be totally honest with you. Explain all the stupid little ways you make me blinder by the day… God damnit, Kamijou Touma, but…_

"…Misaka? I mean it, you know, we'll-"

"…thank you. K-kamijou-k-..." She trailed off, biting her lip. It was just too hard to finish, like this.

"…Eheh. Really, it's no problem." _...You know, it's super weird to hear her say it like that. Maybe can live with "Idiot" until... Well, I guess I can just live with it._

Eyes drying now, she could finally bear to look at him. As she did, she raised a very mournful eyebrow and his incredible understatement, and Touma was forced to reconsider his first assessment.

"Well… I guess it is a **bit** of a problem. Still, we've solved worse. We just need to…"

"Find ten thousand or so meaningful gifts? And then get them express delivered around the world to each of my sisters in time for Christmas morning? Because that's what we're going to have to do."

"…All right, I've got experience with this sort of thing, I just went through a rush of shopping… T-too bad the Dianoid is gone, eh? That would have made this easier. Still, we'll think of something." He trailed off, now thinking to himself.

As he did, Misaka joined in, flagging heart restored by his confidence. _Well…I want it to be beautiful, like they are. And… something sentimental, to show I care about them. I want them to know that they can all be sisters and together, but each their own person, so each has to be unique but connected as well… Hmmm…_ She tried to focus, but as she rested her chin on her palms the lights from a distant Anti-Skill floodlight were perfectly angled to reflect on something shiny nearby. She squinted and moved her head, realizing it was one of those snowflake-like weapons Amazo had used in their last confrontation.

This one was abnormally large, for it apparently had received a big dose of her lightning. It was also distorted and twisted, as she had not been carefully controlling the fields and energies she produced. Sharp edge lost in the attack, it retained only a vague similarity to its original shape, but it stayed lustrous and gleaming despite the damage. It was just like its dozens of brothers that were still visible all around the pair, but she realized it was also unique. No other had the same silver patterns etched in on it, nor was it quite bent and flowing the same way. It was almost charming. In fact, in the right place, it would look like a particularly avant-garde bit of modern art.

Touma noticed his friend was spaced out, and tried to follow her gaze. Without realizing it, his thoughts neatly paralleled hers, and though she was transfixed in silence he felt the need to speak up. "Hey… Misaka, can you… feel for the rest of those, or something?"

"H-Hmmm? What? Oh… You mean magnetically?" Focusing on his question she expanded her senses, and realized that all around her and still gently falling from the skies were the untouched Stars of Bethlehem that Amazo had used. They rained down in gently sprinkles, nearly invisible to anyone but a strong electromaster. They fell onto the ground, various pieces of rubble, onto their larger brethren, and even into the teens's hair, almost countless. But not quite, and Mikto was able to isolate and latch onto one. She held it aloft between the two teens.

They both had to squint hard to see it, but there it was: a tiny, perfectly shaped, mass produced magical star. There might have been some sort of writing etched on it, but it was illegible. What mattered was that it could be seen and manipulated.

"…Misaka, can you-"

"Yeah, hold on, let me try…" She pointed a single finger, and a little spark danced forth. The star immediately expanded in size, and twisted slightly askew. A few more jolts, and it grew, centimetre by centimetre. Fascinated, Mikoto felt with her electromagnetic senses the forces at play, unable to quite make out why the star was reacting as it did. She was so distracted, she failed to notice Touma bend over and pick up one of the ribbons from the box he sat on. Before her eyes, and just when the star was about 2 inches large, he threaded a red strip of fabric though a convenient hole that had formed. Surprised, Mikoto let her magnetism go, but the boy caught its weight on the new addition. There it swung, a star on a line, hypnotically twisting in the night wind. It caught the light of nearby buildings, curving and curling in mesmerizing ways.

They stared at it.

They stared at each other.

!~~~~~~~~!

Hamazura spent his first few seconds of consciousness trying to figure out why his back was cold and wet. He opened his eyes, and instead of seeing the Dianoid's roof there was only cloudy sky and the sides of skyscrapers. He lay still for a moment, only belatedly noticing the commotion around him. People in uniforms were rushing about, helping others to their feet. For now though, the young man was left alone, and he tried to remember exactly how he had ended up lying down in the streets of Academy City.

"...Shopping?" _Yeah. That's right, I had presents. I...dropped the... AH! Right, Accelerator! I bumped him, but where did... What even happened!?_ Sitting upright now, Hamazura didn't notice the object until it was sliding off his chest. He barely caught it, juggling precariously, but eventually her got a solid grip. Blinking rapidly, he peered in rising wonder at the the treasure he held. He had no idea where it had come from, but his salvation had arrived. "...Ahaha-HAH! YES! Christmas is saved, baby!" He hugged it tightly to his chest, but was soon interrupted by a terse voice.

"If you're well enough to laugh, you can clear the damn road. You're better than most of the rest, anyway." He turned around and saw a familiar Anti-Skill officer strolling up from the shadows, having just assisted a different group of shoppers to a recovery area. He squinted in the dim emergency lighting Anti-Skill had set up, and his heart dropped when he recognize her familiar figure.

"...A-Aiho!?" _Crap, here we go! The third... Fourth? Top 5, at least, on the "Scariest Person in my Life" leader-board._ Sure enough, it seemed his long night was about to get even longer. For it didn't take long for the woman to recognize the young man as a past frequent-flyer of her departments lockup.

"Hmm? Is that... Shiage? What the hell are you doing here? Were you involved in this mess too? ...I think I need to take you in for-"

"No! No ma'am! Not this time, nope! J-just, just getting a Christmas present, honest!"

"In the Dianoid? You." It was hardly a question: more an accusation, really. Hamazura swallowed, thinking of the best possible response. He decided to play it as cool as possible.

"...Some of my friends have refined taste."

"Uhuh. And you just happen to be here both times the Dianoid has some sort of crisis?"

"I was actually working last time! Remember, Miss Gorgeouspalace vouched for me, and I was even holding that machine together while you Anti-Skill folks tried to repair it!"

"Right, and we questioned you then as well." Hamazura could see he wasn't going to get out of suspicion so easily, so he shifted gears from righteous indignation straight back to earnest honesty.

"Oh, come on, please! You've got to believe me-"

"Say, what are you holding on to, there?" Aiho interrupted him mid-plea, having heard something similar a hundred times or more. But the thing he was clutching to his chest seemed somewhat interesting. The young man glanced down, before holding it forth.

"Oh! This? It's a picture frame. See? Just came here to... to pick it up! For my friends, you know. Memories and stuff." The woman's eyes narrowed, searching his face for deception. He was leaving something out all right, but he really did seem to care about the picture frame. He was holding it like his first born son. Finally, she sighed and shook her head.

"...All right, I believe you. You wouldn't break in there to steal something as cheesy as that. Follow me, I'll direct you to the recovery zone." As she turned to leave, she lapsed into brooding thought. _Just one more strange occurrence in this damn terrorist attack. At least we caught all the mercenaries... Only thing that has gone right. I can tell I'm going to hate reading the reports about this one..._

"Oh thank goodness... I just want to get home and rest, this night has been exhausting." Hamzura began to follow her, keeping a respectful few steps behind. As he did, he glanced down at his replacement picture frame, and tried to remember exactly when he had found it. Being so distracted, he walked straight into Aiho's back, stumbling. She had stopped suddenly, and now turned to face him.

"If you just bought that, where's the receipt?"

"...Would you believe that I lost it?"

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] To clarify to those confused, here is the logic behind this spell. There is a less detailed explanation later on, so you can skip this for now if you want to just wait until the end of the chapter.

Slight Spoiler: All Miss Baker did earlier was change at the last minute what the spell was trying to do. After Accelerator had his way with it, the spell had basically been inverted, from good feelings to bad ones. (That bit was implied by his anger, and the suffering of the civilians) That was one half of the spell: the other remained with the original targets, which would have been the people and objects affected by the Spirit of Christmas (plus any other magical objects.) In order to regain control of the spell and make it actually do something with just gone haywire, Miss Baker inverted the target of the spell as well. That is why everything magical that SHOULD have teleported stayed, and everything not affected by magic before suddenly became affected by it (I.E., the entire Mall.) If you want to know why it centred on her, and not on a magical object like with Amazo, well... You'll see.

[2] I'm just assuming this is true, though I imagine most die first. I guess some probably have enough at a certain point, though: it's just human nature.

[3] I apologize in advance for this section, and the walls of text explanation before. But it felt necessary.

[4] Uiharu was actually pretty certain it was Mikoto at fault for the outage, but was far too much of friend to directly finger the esper in her official report. Plus, she had no real evidence to say it WAS her...

[5] If you realized that that makes his hat, technically, a magical sorting hat, 10 points to Griffindor. ...Does that mean this story has to be the crossover section now?

Fun trivia: Tsuchimikado's name auto-corrected on this site to "Sadomasochist". Given who he is, I find that hilarious on many levels. See you next time for the epilogue!


	25. Part 1: Epilogue

**Sorry for the early upload, I'll be in the mountains at my usual time.**

 **Well... Here it is. The epilogue. Now, I'd ask you not read the footnotes until you get to the very end to maintain the flow, but it's up to you if you really want to. Either way, thanks for coming with me on this ridiculous ride. It was a blast.**

 **Epilogue:**

12:43 P.M., December 24th: A Certain Apartment in Academy City: 7th floor, Kamijou Residence

Index was not a happy nun.

At the best of times, she could be somewhat more irritable and outspoken than her cloistered upbringing and devout religious background might suggest. These were not the best of times. Touma had not yet returned from his shopping trip. He had promised to at least call if staying out later than nine, but her phone never rang.

At first she was just annoyed at having been forgotten about for so long. She had even tried to call him herself, but nothing when through to his phone. Assuming it was his fault somehow despite barely understanding her own phone, she quickly gave that route up in frustration. Then of course she became hungry again: supper had not been as filling as normal even though there was an extra portion to enjoy. So she had raided the fridge again before binge watching television. Yet soon it was late enough that the shows became boring, more adult in focus or just basic reruns. Even taking a brief nap that eventually became an extended snooze did not make an appreciable difference. As the night wore on, the young girl's composure wore out with it.

Had she possessed any inclination to check the evening news Index might have heard about the disturbance at the Dianoid. The only reason she had agreed to Touma's demand to stay home and take a quiet night off while he went out shopping was that she assumed he was getting more gifts for her. Yet even the promise of surprise presents and food would not have kept her from running to his side in the event of a crisis. She remembered full well what happened the last time something strange developed n that mall. Yet even as her anxiety grew, she had nothing to base any worries on. The night seemed quiet and sleepy, and there was only the ticking clock to reveal just how long a certain spiky hair boy was taking to return home. [1]

Othinus was quietly hiding from Sphinx in her makeshift cardboard home up high on a shelf, pretending to not care about the situation. It was either that or she really was asleep: Index found it surprisingly hard to tell how the diminutive Magic God felt about her forced roommates. Right now, as the nun pouted, it made little difference. All that mattered was that Touma was not home yet, she was getting scared for him, and her stomach was beginning to growl.

That was why, upon hearing the quiet shuffling of feet outside in the hall, her spirits soared. She actually forgot how upset she had been and flew towards the door in glee. However, the sound of squeaking wheels and hushed voices drew her up short. Though she worried it might not be him after all, the sounds stopped by the door and she heard its lock being opened. Her hopes took flight: had Touma gotten so much food and so many presents that he needed help and some sort of cart just to haul it all up? Was Christmas starting early for Index? The door creaked open with the utmost care and quiet, but the young nun could hardly contain her excitement. As soon as she saw his surprised face she blurted out a loud greeting, forgetting the hour. When she saw what he had brought with him, her joy was brought short.

"TOUMA! Where's my… Short-Hair? …You're not my food. Touma. TOUMA, why is she here? Where are the presents? Where is the food!?"

"Ah! …H-hey, Index. Sorry, I was hoping you'd be asle-" The boy's attempt to explain was cut off by the esper he returned with. Though he was rolling along a cart laden with one large cardboard box and several dozen smaller ones, Mikoto was only carrying a plastic, pinker container. Her eye widened as she tried to determine whether the unexpected comparison to foodstuffs was an insult or not.

"W-what? Food? Of course I'm not…" She paused, remembering Touma's instructions. "Oh! Right! Uhm, here. Can I come in?" She pressed her box into Index's hands, who took it mindlessly even why haranguing her roommate viciously.

"Why did you bring her home with you, Touma!? And why are you so late!? What are you…! IS THAT CAKE!?" She had finally opened the peace offering, and was stupefied into silence. Seeing an opportunity, Mikoto nodded vigorously while making her pitch.

"Yeah! A-and there's more if you agree-"

"Yes! I agree! MMPH… Cohme ahn in! More, MMPH, Mohre cake! MMPH MMPH…" Anxiety forgotten in the sugary bliss of confectionery perfection, Index staggered back into the room, shoveling fistfuls of cake into her mouth.

"I told you that would work." Mikoto jumped at Touma's quiet whisper in her ear: she had forgotten how close he was for a second. However, he quickly moved into his apartment, wheeling in his load behind him. "Oy, Index, don't talk to a guest with your mouth full! A-and at least use a fork, it's getting all over the walls! How do you even…" While he tried to contain his maelstrom of a nun, Mikoto surveyed the scene thoughtfully. Finally she sighed and shook her head: this method was not likely to work as well on her own roommate. She stood in the doorway for a minute as Touma finally got Index settled down with proper utensils at the table. He removed his coat and was in the middle of hanging it up when he finally noticed she had not entered. "So, what's wrong, Misaka?"

"…Eh?"

"…Are you just going to stand there? You can come in, you know. There's plenty of room, I can pull up a chair from the kitchenette…"

"Oh! R-right, sure, sorry, it's just…" Though she seemed to have agreed, Mikoto still tarried in the portal, unable to enter the room. Touma watched quizzically for a moment, leaning on the cart he had pushed next to his dresser, before recognizing the awkward situation they were both in.

"Ah! I get it, sorry, my bad. I know it's weird, being in a guy's room so late, but you know… Y-you said it yourself: there's no way we can go to your apartment if Shirai-san gets back tonight from Anti-Skill's first aid. Besides, we needed the extra help, remember? Who else would we ask at this hour?" _And it's not like I'm going to do anything untoward to you… I'm not that kind of guy, I swear, why does no one ever believe me!?_

"I know, I know already! Sheesh! It's…" Though she emoted broadly, Mikoto was still trying to keep her voice low and calm. She kept glancing down the hallway, terrified someone would see her outside a boy's apartment yet unable to bring herself to hide inside. It was a good thing most people were out of town for the holidays, but that didn't mean they all would be. She didn't notice she was holding her breath until she let it out with a squeak: Touma had just gently taken her by the hand. She glanced up into his eyes and froze, while he smiled openly.

"Misaka, you know you're always welcome in my apartment. Now, would you please come in, so we can get ready for Christmas?" _And b_ _efore we wake my neighbors? I really, really hope Motoharu or his sister doesn't find out I brought a girl over… The teasing I get is bad enough without adding my own fuel on the fire._

Slowly at first, then faster she nodded, letting herself be lead into the unfamiliar home. Mikoto looked about and quickly realized that a boy's dwelling was not as different as she might have expected. Obviously hers was much more opulent, but that made sense given her school. While Touma's apartment was spartan and simple, hardly big enough to support 2 people, it seemed all the cozier for that. It was even cleaner than expected. While Touma searched his apartment for the needed tools, the esper discovered the back of a closed manga lying on the counter. It was actually a series she was familiar with, but she hadn't gotten around to checking out this issue. Already comfortable in the inviting atmosphere of his home despite her initial trepidation, she began leafing through it idly.

"Hey, you know you can just read these in the store without buying them, right? These double-issues can get pretty expensive." Touma turned at her appraisal and gave a pointed look. Thoughtfully he closed his eyes and waved a lecturing finger in Mikoto's direction.

"…Is the ojou-sama really telling me to not pay for my entertainment honestly? You can afford to buy them like the rest of us. And now you're here mooching off of mine-" If he had had his eyes open he could have dodged the manga with time to spare: instead it slapped into his face comically before falling to the floor.

"I-Idiot! That's not what I… It's just that they charge far too much anyway, it's robbery! I'm just balancing out their cheque-books! Besides, I'm your guest, don't tease me! Just, go and get the ribbons out already!"

"Right, right, sorry sorry…" Rubbing his nose, Touma moved towards the box he had carted in. Index had finally slowed her rapid annihilation of the cake enough to notice that Mikoto wasn't leaving, and so decided to determine what was going on.

"Ribbons? Touma, what ribbons? What are you doing?" Though suspicion had seeped into her voice around mouthfuls of cake, she was more curious than anything. Nothing seemed to be terribly wrong, but her roommate was obviously hiding something. The boy in question turned around, face red, to stammer out an explanation.

"W-well, it sort of turns out that we need to prepare some presents in a rush. So, Misaka and I decided to work together to get them all ready." He turned to his partner and nodded, eager to just have her demonstrate.

"Yeah, look…" Mikoto reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a bag. It was richly decorated in lace and sequins, creating Christmas shapes and patterns and clearly hiding a mound of something within. Index had no idea it had originally held a strange variety of candy, but instead of dumping it out to reveal the mystery, the esper closed her eyes in concentration. After a second, a single tiny silvery flake floated out. Fascinated, Index watched the level 5 pour a bit of power into the soon expanding star. When it was done the nun clapped gleefully, impressed at the strange display, while Mikoto flicked the star towards Touma. As he fumbled for it awkwardly, she explained further. "Basically, I'll be making these… things bigger, and he'll be making ornaments for a tree by threading them with the ribbon's he's got. That's where you come in."

"Ooh... That's a clever piece of idolatric representation using yuletide symbology, but the mana expenditure is... Wait, me?" Index blinked, before glancing down at her half eaten cake. "But… what about…?"

"Yes, and that's how you'll earn another cake later." That got the nun's attention. "I need you to help tie them, and put them into boxes so they can get shipped out."

"Oh… well, if it's for cake, then sure. But why can't this wait until tomorrow?"

"We need to express mail them around the world, and to have them arrive on time they'll have to be at the post office right when it opens." With this explanation, Index's eyes grew wide.

"Wow! Around the world? Who are these going to, anyway?"

"Well, my sisters, actually."

"Oh." Index sat for a moment, realizing that not only was she not really tied anymore, this esper couldn't be that bad if she was staying up late for family. With a nod, her opinion crystallized. "Okay then, Short-Hair. Let me finish this cake and I'll help." Between hurried mouthfuls, the nun finally realized that both her roommate and the girl were still tense. That meant she had not noticed something they were worried about. Though she didn't not stop chewing, her eyes narrowed. "…MMPH…What ish it? …How many, MMPH… are we talking about here? MMPH…"

"…Not quite ten thousand."

"Oh… OOOHHHHHH!? WHAT!?" That kind of surprise was the only thing that could halt the girl's appetite. "I didn't agree to that! One cake is NOT enough! That's like…" Icing covered fingers did some very quick math "…one slice of cake for every thousand stars! That's horrible, I'll starve before then!"

"Look, I'll get you cake every day for a year! Just help us, damn it!" Mikoto's promise instantly appealed to Index, but Touma understood the disaster this would portend.

"Whoa whoa, hold on Misaka! You can't promise that! She'll never sleep again; I'm the one who has to live with her! Tonight is going to be bad enough as it is with all that sugar! Please, both you of, reconsider!"

"Allright, not cake, but I'll take you out to eat or bring stuff in, okay? F-for the rest of the year, at least once a week! Now, please, will you help? I did the math, we can probably tie them all in about 4 hours if you help!" Mikoto's earnest plea was being carefully tabulated in Index's mind. After balancing short term laziness with long term hunger, the nun discovered a trap in the offer.

"Wait, the **rest** of the year!? That's only a week! Next year too!" Her loophole closed tightly, the esper sighed in defeat.

"Crap. Fine, all next year! Until Christmas, at least! Now, PLEASE!?"

"…Okay, okay. But I get to pick out what we eat!"

"Fine, let's get to work..." But while the esper settled down to begin electrically charging the bagful of Christmas stars she had gathered, a small voice emerged from up high on one of Touma's shelves.

"Did I hear that right...? Ten thousand? Really?" They all turned to look at Othinus, whose head finally had popped out of her shoe-box home. It was good for the tiny Magic God that Sphinx was sleeping soundly despite the commotion: perhaps that alone had been what convinced her to show herself. Yet it didn't seem like she herself had been resting: if anything, her eyes looked tired and heavy, as if she had lain awake in worry. Yet she continued mockingly, trying to mask what might have otherwise been relief. "Kamijou Touma, you are, as always, a total screw up. What are you doing to constantly get into these impossible situations?"

"Come on, Othi-chan, that's not nice. Oh, and say hello to our guest. Misaka: you two met a little before, right? …Right? …M-Misaka, are you-"

"Y-you!? YOU!? You're living here TOO!?" Mkoto's calm, which had proven durable so far, now cracked a great deal. "W-why are you even HERE!? Shouldn't you… I don't know, be a in a jail or something!? An oubliette!? Maybe a tower somewhere!? … **Why are you in his room?** "

"He's basically my jailer. Who better to keep me under wraps? What cell would hold me, anyway?" The logic actually made sense to the level 5, but it didn't make her feel any better. She pushed past it, though, the presents remaining her top priority.

"…All right. That's fine. This is ALL fine. I don't care if he has two female roommates! I really don't! I don't just at all!" Touma was about to point out how suspiciously specific of a denial that was, but she kept going, now striding up to face the tiny magic god directly. "Besides, you can help too! More the merrier! It's Christmas after all!"

"I can help, can I? Now why would I do that? It's late, and I don't particularly care about your 'present' problem." [2]

"What kind of a scrooge are you!? This is a holiday crisis for the sake of family! Aren't you trying to redeem yourself or something, for your crimes against humanity?"

"Maybe I am, but that's no excuse to stay up late. That's forced labour: even prisoners have their rights. You know, to food, security... _Shelter._ " At this, Othinus stared pointedly at Touma, who was forced to shrug in embarrassment. Just like the last time he had visited the Dianoid, once again he had not brought back with him a better home and safe-haven for the Magic god. Though she was unaware of Othinus's desires, Mikoto picked up on the subtext.

"...So there's something you want. Fine. What can I do to bribe _you_?"

"This." From seemingly nowhere, Othinus had produced an advertisement. It had been ripped from some flyer somewhere, and it now dangled before Mikoto's nose. "This is what I want. His damn cat will eat me soon unless I can be safe inside here." The esper scanned it for a moment, taking it all in.

"...A luxury doll house, huh? Yeah, I guess that makes sense... It even has working power? Heh, neat." She almost thought about laughing at how cute it would be to see a once omnipotent magician living in a model home, but thought better of it. Instead she nodded, taking the paper and folding it into her pocket. "Well, the Dianoid's gone, but I can mail-order deliver you one from a supplier by the end of the week. Deal?"

"…Deal. But I watch you fill out and send in the order form for it tonight."

"Fine. You can handle the postage and mailing addresses for my sisters then: all the data is on my phone. You can write it out and label the boxes… Oh." Mikoto paused, the fact that Othinus really was only a few inches tall finally sinking in. "…Can you even write like that? Or use my phone? O-or, do anything at all?"

"I'm small, not stupid. Just give me the damn list and a piece of graphite from a pencil."

!~~~~~~~~!

After a few thousand snowflake/star decorations, the task had become mechanical. Luckily it wasn't hard work, though the atmosphere was muted given how late it was. It gave each person present a lot of time to think.

Touma sat on the floor, dwelling on his misfortune. _Of course. It's 1:30 in the morning, there are 3... 2 and a half... Well, there are more than 2 girls in my room, and I'm here making Christmas decorations. What is my life? Where did I go so wrong?_ He glanced up at Mikoto, who seemed to have the hardest work. Yet he concentration did not waver as she carefully applied the appropriate amount of current to another batch of stars. _Then again... Well, maybe this isn't so bad. ...You know, I wonder if... I should...?_

At the same time, Index frowned heavily before the 7th box she had just filled up with the decorations being made. _So, this one needed... 14? There are fourteen of her sisters living there, is that right...? Agh, this is so BOOOORING. What... well, maybe I can plan what I can get Short-Hair to buy me! Hmmm..._ A long list of luxury foods began floating through her head, the last forgotten as a new one came up. _But which do I want first!? Hmmm... Well, since it'll be Christmas, maybe I'll be nice and invite her to stay and share it with us. She doesn't seem all that terrible, if she's bringing the food... But what to ask for... Maybe...?_

Othinus was the only one in the room who didn't show her thoughts, but she was carefully watching all the while. At first, she been focused on the newcomer, concerned that at some point an attack would come from her one time enemy. _But... Well, I guess she trusts him. She's only glanced at me twice so far. But... she has been looking at him a whole lot._ Suspicion had dawned a little while ago, and she had observed more since. _...And he's looking almost as often back at her. I wonder... No. Does...?_

Each of the three was coming to their own separate epiphanies at nearly the same time. But as one they were all beaten to the punch.

"Ah! AHAH! YES, I figured it out!"

"M-misaka?"

"Miss Baker was the one who teleported the planes and toys in! She must have prepared the birds and toys in advance to do it all at once, but now that damn trick in his show makes sense! She did the same with the panther, but I still don't understand why that was even in the Dianoid. What a messed up mall..."

"…Oh. That's… good?"

"…J-just keep tying ribbons, Idiot."

"Right, right… eheh."

!~~~~~~~~!

11:51 P.M., December 24h: Yomikawa Aiho's apartment, Academy City

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house- Well, it was not really a house. It was more of an apartment. Let us try this again.

!~~~~~~~~!

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the apartment, Not a creature was stirring... Well, perhaps there was one. One last go...

!~~~~~~~~!

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the apartment, /

A small clone was stirring in impatient deportment.

Though stockings were hung by the T.V. with care /

It was still not enough to just leave them there.

"Misaka Misaka can't sleep! Says Misaka in angst! /

What if Santa Claus comes and no-one's there to say thanks?"

From her bed soft and warm, the little girl rose; /

Made her way to the door but suddenly froze.

A sound from the hall gained her careful attention. /

She pondered and thought, lost in tense apprehension.

Another was up, sneaking pitter-patter, /

The occasional thump making more of a clatter.

The sound made it's way to the Christmas tree /

And the clone peeked on out, her best effort to see.

It was not Old Saint Nick, though if truth be told /

She knew from the data transmission of code

through his collar it was him, with hair purest white, /

Motionless, awestruck, as if filled up with fright.

For he saw that the cane of one Accelerator /

Had met with a strange team of cloned decorators.

Up and down, all across, were spirals and swirls /

of all shades and hues, drawn by that pair of girls.

Some ended in bunnies, all cutesy and charming. /

Others had skulls, contrast frankly alarming.

The cane lay out flat in the tree's wholesome glow. /

He knelt down beside it, head bent down low.

The little girl thought, for a second, not more, /

That perhaps he was praying, there prone on the floor.

And if he was praying, an offering was made. /

Then he stood up abruptly; returned whence he came.

The little girl hid, knowing full well the score. /

It would not please him being caught in his chore.

Yet once he had passed, was no longer in sight /

The clone danced back out in open delight.

For under the tree, present from the one lame /

Was an obviously hand-crafted steel picture frame.

Bent under forces immense and titanic; /

Clearly not fashioned by normal mechanics,

Vectors and angles, all carefully skewed, /

Had from spare scrap metal this work of art hewed.

Sharp edges half-blunted. Corners not quite squared. /

It was not as if a certain clone really cared.

For though it was late, and the sun out of sight /

It was technically Christmas: just past midnight.

Noting the hour she jumped through the hall, /

Waking all and sundry in glorious call.

"Merry Christmas, shouts Misaka Misaka with might /

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!" [3]

!~~~~~~~~!

Flashback: One day to 12:05 A.M. December 24th  (11:05 A.M. December 23rd, Local time): A large studio in Boston, Massachusetts.

The room was dark and empty. At one point, this studio had been cluttered with miscellaneous junk. From props to household appliances Amazo had lived out of his workplace, creating a ramshackle yet comfortable atmosphere. But for several days most of the magical items, real or for the stage, had been missing. As was the most common fixture of all: the man himself. For now, thin streams of morning light poked through well fastened curtains to illuminate what little remained.

Miss Baker had not lived directly in this room, but a small loft that adjoined the magician's studio. Accordingly she had stored many of her magical items with his, and even a few articles of her clothing. One such leotard, the triplet of the two she had brought to the Dianoid, hung even now from one of the last remaining clothes racks. It was gathering a thin lonely layer of dust.

Which was suddenly disturbed. The leotard's fabric stiffened, creating a small cloud of hazy smoke. From a small pocket, a feminine hand emerged.

It was followed by an arm, and then a shoulder. Soon an entire woman, shaking visibly and dressed only in undergarments, fell to the loft's floor. Her breathing was ragged, but she had survived. The magic had drained from her, all the potential of the Spirit of Christmas used to move the Dianoid the pocket dimension she had created. All Miss Baker wanted to do now was rest, but she knew it was not meant to be.

For no sooner had she arrived than did the studio's singular phone begin ringing.

It was 15 feet away, on the wall not far from the woman. But still, Miss Baker took her time. Catching her breath, she slowly put on her leotard before approaching. Hesitating purposely. After no further delay was possible and her thoughts could not be collected anymore, she answered the phone. A voice spoke immediately.

"Oh dear. It looks like you failed. Do you really care for them so little? I had though they were sufficient motivation, along with your little secret."

"I did not fail. You can see the bank transfers went through, the funds are-"

"Yes, I can see. And so can anyone else, with a bit of computer skill and time. If you were going to betray our little arrangement, you should have done so in a way that took me out before I could order them-"

"No! No, don't... you don't have to do anything. You said so yourself, you'd have to go underground sooner or later, and that your part in this would be discovered eventually. You told me you even knew about that mercenary woman's failsafe-"

"Yes, because the ones who installed her implants were secretly under my payroll. But I had to make sure it actually worked when she tested it, or it would have been a pointless lure. And without enough warning, I couldn't be sure when I moved to counteract its automated software. So, when you rather dramatically blew the city's power..."

"That wasn't me. I ran into unexpected trouble, but the plan can-"

"Plan? What plan? You clearly threw it out the window at that point. Your magic required those hostages, does it not? Yet they all remain in Academy City, while you are here, and the Dianoid is who-knows-where."

"I have the Dianoid. I can adapt the spell to use it instead, I'm sure of it. Our plans are un-"

" **Our** plans? Oh dear, dear dear." The voice cut Miss Baker off again, but this time in a softly piercing tone. "That almost sounds like you are trying to take ownership of this project. Make it seem like we are allies. So that perhaps I would regret blackmailing you. Or begin treating you as an equal and letting slip a bit too much information. Was that your intention, Miss Baker... Or should I say, _Katarina Bachar_?"

The former assistant stiffened: it never got easier to hear her birth name, and her 'employer' knew it. Still, the magician exhaled: she could not afford to get distracted or lose her cool. The price was too high.

"...I merely wish to see them unharmed and carry out this spell. It benefits both of us: you have no reason to suspect me of betrayal, you hold all the cards... Ms. Roosevelt." [4] On the other end of the line was silence. It dragged out far too long to be comfortable. The magician stood in the studio, phone gripped too tight to notice the sweat slowly beading on her palm. Yet eventually she realized there was in fact a soft noise coming through the line. It was the clicking of computer keys.

"I don't understand enough of your magic to know how you will repair things. Wire me any supplies you might need. I will want to review them. In the meantime, I will be enacting my exit strategy. You prepare for the second stage. If you can't just magic yourself there or something, I'll arrange for a flight in the same way as last time." With a click, the line went dead.

Miss Baker was left more alone than ever in the great empty studio, just barely lit by the cool light of morning. Shaking in impotent rage.

!~~~~~~~~!

A few hundred miles away, in a very secure location, a certain businesswoman sat in a cheap swivel chair at a plastic desk. There was no point buying luxury goods for this office: not only was it temporary in nature, it was never meant be seen by her employees or guests. That was the only reason for the opulence of her former office, earned as head and C.E.O. of the multinational business conglomerate she had developed over the last 10 years of her career. The dial-up phone had been hung on its receiver, but she continued to type on the computer in from of her. She sent out a few messages, made a few last transactions before the inevitable police inquiries were made, and logged out of her administrator account within that company for the last time.

Yet she did not act upset or nostalgic. In fact, if anything she looked pleased. Perhaps it was that she had never really cared about her previous position. Perhaps it was because she had her sights on something far better in future. Whatever the case was, she stood up and left the room. As she strode she flipped two switches on the wall. One controlled the lights, returning the room to darkness. The other triggered her base's self-immolation protocol. In five minutes, it would be the centre of a raging inferno, taking down the the rest of the warehouse it was housed within. She had owned it once, but wouldn't have felt any guilt torching the place even if she hadn't.

She walked down a number of halls and stairways, before coming out into a back alley. A plain looking sedan was waiting for her. No chauffeur today, but that wasn't a problem: the woman knew how to drive. She hit the ignition and pulled away calmly, dimly aware from the radio's clock that the fire would be starting any second.

Rather than dwell on it, she turned a local station. She was lucky, as she often was. A song was just beginning. It was a familiar Christmas classic, sickeningly sentimental if seasonally appropriate. But after listening to the first few bars, the woman began to sing merrily along.

" _On the first day of Christmas..."_ Rosslyn Roosevelt was not the kind of person to laugh maniacally in triumph. But as she sung in a low, quiet way, the glow of an inferno flashing in her mirrors, those thin lips turned up in a vicious smile.

!~~~~~~~~!

The Adventure Continues, In...

 **A Certain Holiday Season, Part 2: The Twelve Days of Christmas**

 **Afterword:**

 **You read that right. I bet some people saw this coming after all that build-up, or perhaps you noticed how in the very first chapter I mentioned "Part 1: Advent". I'll be seeing you all again fairly soon... Man, I've always wanted to write a surprise ending.**

 **In the meantime, if you have any questions that you feel weren't addressed well enough in the story, or just want to ask me for details something you were curious, I'll respond to any reviews left on this chapter directly in a week or two in an introductory update to Part 2. If there aren't many questions, hey, I did a fairly good job explaining most things, so don't feel obligated to ask. If there are a lot of question, I'll know what to focus on in the future! I'll start off with a fun fact: my entire story was originally based around answering one simple premise: How would someone get presents for 10000 clones? From there... Well, look at what happened!**

 **I hope you enjoyed this whirlwind of a fan fiction, and half as much fun reading it as I did writing and reading reviews. Until next time!**

[1] In my mind, Index can't just sense magic anywhere like that. It has to actually be around her, or have visible effects in some way so that she knows to focus on looking for something. Also, if you're wondering, I'm do want to characterize her purely as a food-monster. It's just scene heavily relies on that as a gag.

[2]. Yes, this was a pun. Yes, she doesn't care it's terrible and that no one noticed. That's just Othinus.

[3] That poem is probably the most adorable thing I have ever written; I fully expect to start drowning in puppies and kittens any second. I did not plan to have this scene play out like this at first, but when I got the idea I just had to. I HAD TO. Oh, and if you're wondering where Worst is in all this, just imagine her secretly recording the whole thing as potential blackmail on Accelerator. Just in case.

[4] If you're wondering why "Ms. Roosevelt" is spelled this way, but "Miss Baker" was written in full, it was an attempt to force readers into treating it like the stage name it was. Bit of foreshadowing, you see.


	26. Part 1: Questions, Review, and Update

Alright! I'm back for a bit, answering some questions and providing some more details. I'll also be giving out some thanks to people not otherwise acknowledged.

 **Questions and Answers**

 **Question 1:** Shuko: "A part two?"

 **Answer 1:** Heck yes. Hold onto your britches, because we're just getting started. I might as well say it: we're set for a trilogy, with the second and third parts at least the same length as the first. Probably longer, though also probably not as cohesive. We'll see.

 **Question 2:** drunkenlullabies90: "but how was touma helping with the starts with out accidentally destroying them with his hand?"

 **Answer 2:** It was sort of hard to describe but the stars are a strange idea to begin with. Basically when they are magically enhanced, the stars were clearly enlarged by magic/strange power, just like Amazo himself, and were clearly magical artifacts. Thus, Touma could destroy them. When Mikoto expands the stars, she still uses an esper/strange power, which should be cancelled by Imagine Breaker. However, while Amazo was constantly pumping power power to make it large through MAGIC, Mikoto just used one shock, warping the material, the metal, itself.

There was no way to explain this in the text, but the stars are really just a very complex alloy covered in runes, and then shrunk down to their tiniest size. Amazo spent a lot of his time making them in terms of crafting the runes, but he's not a metalurgist: so each one has at varying points a different composition, malleability, conductivity, specific heat capacity, etc. Therefore, each star has a different reaction to electricity, magnetism, and all of Mikoto's power. Thus, each becomes unique when shocked. It's just science (I hope and pray)

After she shocks them and as long as there is none of her power flowing through them, the stars have just become lumps of metal, returned to their original, pre-Amazo making them magical, size. Since the stars aren't being used as an attack or controlled by magnetism, it doesn't react with Imagine Breaker in any way. They would need to somehow have their magical properties repaired before Touma could damage them now, unless Mikoto were to latch onto one with her power and chuck it at his head. Hope that explains it!

 **TL;DR:** When mikoto's shocks the stars, they lose their magic. Amazo made them at large, and then shrunk them: Mikoto expands them to normal size, and they become inert. Therefore, no issues with Imagine Breaker.

 **Question 3:** RANDOM and ANONYMOUS: On the lack of romantic development. (not really a question, but I want to address it)

 **Answer 3:** This is a fair point, especially as this story is billed as romantic. Let me put it this way: I believe these things take time, ESPECIALLY given the characters involved. If you're patient enough, I hope you'll be pleased with the end result some hundred thousand more words down the line. Where there is build up, there is payoff (even if it's more sappy and cute than anything, it still counts, right).

 **Question 4:** Guest: "Hey, instead of separating part two from this one as a separate fic, you should continue it after the Epilogue. maybe you could rename chapter 1 to Prologue, or ACHS Part 1? Idk, just a suggestion.".

 **Answer 4:** This is feedback and information I was looking for. I haven't had much chance to look it this, at the time of my writing this response, so knowing that I can do that gives me a new option. I'm thinking of re-naming the story "A Certain Holiday Season: The Festive Triptych" ( I like fun names) and then titling each chapter "Book 1, Chapter 1" or something. (Editor's note: I went with Part 1: Chapter 1 instead) I'll also be going back and editing the original story again, which is part of the reason there will be a delay to all of these changes and new content (though I am already writing an introduction to part 2...).

 **Question 5:** Guest: "Aside with Misaka, will Index, Othinus, and other magicians play bigger roles in part 2? Also, will the real Santa make an apperence? Will Accelerator destroy things in the sequal?"

 **Answer 5:** Here's a teaser: A certain collection of girls will be getting down to some serious girl talk in somewhat cramped circumstance. I have no idea if I can write that sort of thing well, but god damn it I'm going to try.

As for Accel? I'm giving him a break for a while, but rest assured he will have another appearance. Just don't hold your breath: I feel like he needs some time to recover after Christmas anyway.

 **Question 6:** MrQuestionMark: "The holidays season is never really something that goes well for Touma right...?"

 **Answer 6:** In his mind, this is actually one of the better scenarios that could have happened. Still, his troubles ARE only beginning...

 **Question 7:** Sunder8: "Will Aogami be in the second part?"

 **Answer 7:** Interestingly enough, I didn't have any real role for him in this next part. However, as long as I remember, I just thought of a way I can use him further down the line...

 **Question 8** : NoNameAvailable Bis: On the spelling of Uihara.

 **Answer 8:** ...I have no idea, man.

I swore I did that right, and will now be going back to review everything again because that bugs the Hell out of me. I had a real tough time remembering to spell "Kuroko", and not "Kukoro", but Uihara I must have blanked on.

(Editor's note) I just went through it all, and have not found one instance of this spelling. One of the two of us is hallucinating: I pray for my sanity even at the cost of yours, I must say with sorrow.

 **People I'd like to acknowledge for their ideas or random advice:**

 **Random Guest on Chapter 3** : I wasn't planning on having ANYONE being kidnapped this part, but then I got ideas to have both MC's suffer that! So thanks.

 **Darlz:** For the naming conventions regarding Mikoto and friends.

 **Ren:** For the naming conventions regarding Accelerator. I'll admit, I did the geezer thing on my own volition, mostly because (A) Accelerator uses a cane, (B) has white hair, and (D) is grumpy ALL the time. Seriously, in my mind her character would always be cracking old man jokes, the LN's really missed a golden opportunity. Besides, one of her characteristics is being very young, technically, so there is even MORE reason to make old man jokes. You're right in all your points, I'm just too stubborn to care, basically.

 **Handsomistic1:** Among other things, for prompting me to give better depiction of areas and buildings and such. This hopefully made the mall more visual and the fight easier to understand.

Interesting note: The book say the Dianoid is 100000 Tonnes of Carbon, and 70 stories tall. However, with the kind of density that mall would need to be to support its own weight and height on earth, it would be about 100 square feet (10 by 10) per floor. So, I basically threw out the bad weight and decided to let the building be as huge as I wanted it to be. So if there is more specific information about it's size and shape anywhere, for the purposes of this fic ignore it.

 **Darkbetrayer** : Krampus didn't quite come into play, but you inspired me to give Accelerator the understudy role. I already had the vague idea of how he would impact events, but your comment narrowed it right down for me.

 **Assessment of A Certain Holiday Season so far and plans for the future.**

So, I'm pretty pumped. I never thought I'd write a complete, coherent, and above all appreciated work of fiction. Ever. So **that's** great! I am a little sad I'll never get to know how many people actually read the last few chapters: I wanted to know for statistical analysis how many people actually followed through reading immediately, knowing I was following a schedule. Luckily, reviews and such aren't going to make or break my commitment to this project. Only how busy my year gets and other life details will determine that.

 **My Top 3 favourite moments:**

 **3:** Saten and the Mall scene.

What a cute bit of comedy... I can't believe it came from me! My regret was not making the tension and crime part a bit more obvious before this, to create more contrast. Still very fun to write!

 **2:** Mikoto lighting up the Dianoid.

This was the moment where my initial problem of making 10000 gifts for her sister/clones was ultimately solved, even if no character realized it. I had never planned to make it quite so dramatic, but when I saw Mikoto's feats in the latest Light Novel I realized that this sort of action would be almost tame. (Sersiously, 20 storey buildings!? Holy mackerel!)

 **1:** Last Order's Night before Christmas.

I hope people enjoyed this wrap up to their little arc. I was originally going to have that part written out longer with much the same events, but in prose and with dialogue as all three learn what Christmas means to them. Then I realized this way basically shows all that, and does so without being preachy. Plus, rhyming is dope, dawg.

 **Wrap up**

To everyone else who tried to guess things right or wrong, or who just left a bit of friendly analysis or critique, I thank as much as those listed above. Even if I didn't mention you, every comment impacted where I was taking the story and made me reconsider and re-evaluate my plans for accuracy.

So once again, **thank you**! I'll be seeing you again before October, I hope. I'll leave you with a bit of a teaser.

The song Rosslyn was singing along with in the epilogue is going to become very, very important to this story... Can you guess how? (If you do I can't tell you until later, but know that I'll be as surprised as heck and all freaked out, so that's a plus I suppose)

Til then... TTFN!


	27. Part 1 and a half: Abridgement, 1st Half

**Hey folks. Welcome back. I hope you're ready, because this show's about to kick off.**

 **...But before we launch directly into Part 2, I realized I wanted a little set-up chapter. Something of an introduction, or an abridging update, to link each part/book together. Not too long.**

 **Then I realized I had written 10000 words, and decided to split that originally small update into two parts. Here's the first! Expect part two this time next week.**

 **So, with little further ado, I present for your reading pleas... Well, your grudging literary consumption...**

 **A Certain Holiday Season Abridgement: Christmas Eve, Part 1**

8:57 A.M, December 24th: A Certain Apartment in Academy City: 7th floor, Kamijou Residence

For the last 6 hours, the apartment had been quiet. But it was not quite a familiar scene. The usual characters were in their usual places as the sun shone on another day, yet something was amiss.

!~~~~~~~~!

It had been just past three in the morning when the 9968th gift, the last ribboned star from Amazo's failed spell, was packed safely away. One very tired nun had stumbled into bed, suffering only eased by the promise of food on the horizon. A bleary eyed Railgun signed the order slip that a now unconscious Chibi-Magic-God had demanded, but remained in the apartment to get ready to leave for her own lodging. That left a certain spiky haired idiot to ferry every package, wrapped in simple coloured paper, to the postage box in his building's main floor all alone. [1]

The cart he had brought earlier made each trip quick, but even so Touma was surprised to not see Mikoto leaving after he finished his final loop. Though he wondered for a moment if he had just missed her on the stairs, opening the door to his loft banished that illusion.

For with her jacket-half-on and one shoe dangling untied, Mikoto lay next to Index on the boy's own bed, deep asleep.

"This is exactly what would happen to me. Such misfortune..." He almost took off the esper's footwear to save wear and tear on his sheets, but thought better at the last second with a blush. Instead he just reached down for the blankets and covered them both as best he could. With a light switch's flick the apartment was settled in patient darkness, but the boy staggering to the bathroom couldn't resist one last silence-breaking comment.

"...At least she didn't take the tub."

!~~~~~~~~!

That had been hours past, and now the cold thin light of dawn streamed steadily through half closed window drapes. No one stirred within, but as the clock struck nine something else sprang into motion.

It was not within the apartment, but it was nearby. A short distance away, something fluttered within and through the cool breeze. That something soon resolved into three distinct somethings, thin and white but not alive. Three pale letters drifted unnoticed through the air of Academy City, in haphazard but inevitable fashion. They sailed around the front and up the side of a certain building complex, catching updrafts all the way up to the 7th floor. The walkway in front of a particular residence was open to the air, meaning each letter had no problem floating up and sliding under the front door.

But there was a fourth letter darting through Academy City. It had been having a much harder time. Punctuated by teeth holes from a dog and tred marks from a street-clearing drone, it struggled to the same door. Yet at the last moment, before reaching the end of its arduous quest...

...It caught a bad draft and landed directly in a small snowy puddle just feet from the goal.

!~~~~~~~~!

Minutes later another letter arrived, this one in an envelope of much thicker paper. It seemed determined to succeed, cutting straight through the air without any whimsy. Spiralling up the exposed staircase it built momentum, powered through cross-drafts to rocket straight down the walkway towards the target.

Barring its path was a random student walking the same direction down the hall, a boy whose face was covered by a carried stack of books and papers. With hawk-like aim the letter deftly avoided the obstacle, and made straight for the crack of that troublesome door...

...only to be lost in an avalanche of fallen books when the student suddenly tripped. It was picked up along with other scattered papers, and though twitching valiantly it was not able to escape the rapidly fleeing boy.

!~~~~~~~~!

The third letter tried a different tact. It was agile and clever, abandoning the front door as a lost cause. It swooped up and over the roof before dropping into the alley which adjoined that same apartment its brethren had aimed for.

It dipped down inside, carefully, slowly, as if wary of unseen enemies. Yet the coast was clear: there was no one outside on a balcony that morning. In a sudden burst of motion it made for the apartment's sliding door, hoping to ram its way through that slim crack which never could quite be closed. It zipped inwards, through the gap in railing...

...when it caught on a loose nail and ripped itself clean in half. [2]

!~~~~~~~~!

Inside the apartment, the three successfully delivered letters piled together on the floor. Though one could not tell just by looking, a consensus was reached. Hesitating, the letter marked in elegant cursive English "Index Librorum Prohibitorium" separated from its allies.

It drifted up and away, towards the kitchen counter. There it plodded gently on top of a closed rice cooker. Despite its feather-weight it somehow depressed the entry hatch: the lid sprung open. It fell inside, but not before running its edge along a rotating dial with another deft motion, turning the heat up to the maximum setting.

!~~~~~~~~!

Mikoto woke to the smell of smoke.

It was not a pleasant experience, but it was familiar. Years of learning to control her growing powers meant she had sleep-shocked more than one appliance into smouldering ruin. So she jolted upright and tumbled out of bed.

In drowsy panic she stumbled across the room, knocking into an unfamiliar living room table. Once she determined which appliance was on fire, it was flung into the sink and run under spurting water. The process was nearly automatic; Mikoto waved away the dissipating smoke, finally attaining alertness. And, in the process, discovered where she was.

"...Mmm...?" _Where... why... am I...?_

"Short-Hair, what's... what's going on?" The esper spun to see the Index leaning up on her bed, blinking bleary eyed. The little nun was still mostly asleep, but was propped up on her elbows while rubbing her face.

"E-eh?" Mikoto stood by the sink as the water ran, thin trail of smoke still haloing around her. She beamed innocence through her twitching smile, but failed to process the situation fast enough to answer. _Why is... Wait a minute, this isn't my dorm..._ She barely had time to blush before a third voice joined the fray.

"And why are you still here?" The lid of a shoe-box on the shelf popped open, revealing silver-haired Othinus, pint-sized Magic-God. She was clearly irritated by her sleep's interruption, gaze heavy and pointed. "Shouldn't you have gone home already?"

"A-ah... Well... Y-you, you SEE..." Mikoto was caught in the crossfire, both queries impossible to answer. Truthfully the level 5 remembered only putting on her jacket and heading out the door. She glanced down and saw that her jacket was indeed on, but clearly the plan had fallen apart after that. The sound from the sink changed, alerting the girl to the water running over the edge of the now full rice cooker. She pivoted around and finally shut off the stream, but once she had turned a final voice echoed weakly from the bathroom.

"And why do I smell smoke?" Touma entered the living room in baggy pyjamas, rubbing grit from his eyes. He coughed once, waving his free hand to clear the air.

At last, a question Mikoto could answer. "A-ah! It was this!" She reached into the sink and pulled out the offending appliance, thrusting it forcefully towards the boy. Unfortunately, she forgot it was currently full of water and bits of soot. The unholy soup provided an unexpected and unwelcome shower for a certain unfortunate boy.

The room fell into silence. Mikoto was bright red. Index's surprise half hidden behind her hands. Othinus with a raised eyebrow. And Touma, wide awake now and blinking. And finally opening his mouth to speak.

"...Such mi-" Only to be cut off by a letter slapping into his wet face, the triumphant successor to many failed attempts, which had just slid into his apartment unannounced.

!~~~~~~~~!

 _To: Index Librorum Prohibitorium_

 _A warm season's greeting to you in this blessed time of year. The Church of England is grateful to extend an invitation to our week-long Christmas celebration in London, beginning on Christmas Day and ending on New Years Day. Accommodation and travel have been arranged: Inside you will find tickets to Heathrow International Airport. From there, a chartered vehicle will take you to St. George's Cathedral, where you will staying with us should you choose to attend. We look forward to sharing the holiday season with you, and pray for your safe travel._

 _From: Church of England,Communications Branch._

 **P.S. You may bring your guardian.**

!~~~~~~~~!

"...Why didn't I get one..." Touma slumped at the table, towel around his shoulders like a defeated boxer, reading for the last time the damp letter which had entered his apartment in such mysterious fashion. He had been very careful to not touch it with Imagine Breaker after Index had warned him it was in fact a spiritual artifact; something do with divine inspiration and message idol theory. It didn't bother him not understanding, since no one's life seemed to be threatened. What did depress him was the hastily scrawled addition at the letter's end. _Was I an afterthought or something? And after all that work I did getting people presents!_

Glancing around the room, he took a moment to survey the reactions of his colleagues. Index was predictably the most excited: she had just realized that a Christmas party inevitably meant a Christmas dinner.

"Touma Touma TOOUUUMMAAA! We can go, right!? We can go!? It's all paid they said!" She was bouncing up and down on the bed, leaning over to grasp her roommate and shake him with every rise and fall. Though he rocked to and fro, his expression didn't waver.

"I-I don't know... This seems a little strange. Then again, that bunch IS a little strange. Hmm... Well, I'll have to talk to my parents. And probably my school; they'll want to know to if I'm going somewhere since it's not super-secret world-saving stuff."

"I expect they already do. The English Church and Academy City have close connections." Othinus displayed some minor surprise after reading her own personally addressed letter, but was otherwise nonplussed by the development. "I also suppose we have no real choice in going. At least I don't, since I have to accompany you. They've apparently even left at English customs a way to smuggle me onto the plane so the common rabble don't get freaked out. Oh, well." The Chibi-God sat down heavily on the shelf, idly gazing at the muted television.

"I suppose you're right..." Touma gave the letter one last shake to dry it off. As he did, he noticed Mikoto standing by the dresser, a tense frown creasing her brow. She had finished reading her own personalized message a while ago, and was now staring intently at the ground. "Oy, Misaka. What about you? Same letter I guess?"

Mikoto was so focused that she had forgotten her embarrassing accident earlier, answering the boy calmly. "...Mmhmm. I even think Othinus is right, though I hate to admit it."

"Wait, we're all invited? Why her? You two I get, but the esper?" Othinus spoke up again, irked by Mikoto's remark. Sparks barely restrained, Mikoto was about to defend herself when another took up the charge.

"Well, Misaka did help during Hawaii. And during World War Three. And during your little thing. So, I guess they just want to recognize all that?" _Or this all some crazy bluff for some insane plan. Who knows anymore?_

"...I suppose." Othinus actually agreed, in more ways than one. _Saying "thanks, good work and all that" d_ _oesn't really seem like them, does it...?_ The Magic-God lapsed into silence, and Mikoto took a calming breath.

"Pheh. Anyway, I'll need to check my email, but I have a hunch. Can I borrow your phone? Mine is broken."

Touma looked at her blankly, before reaching across the table to tap a pile of scrap plastic and metal. That was all that remained of his cellphone, which though cracked from the magic show had shattered completely during their fight with Amazo.

"Oh! Right. Then, can I use your computer, I really need to check something...?" She looked around before realizing Touma had nothing of the sort visible. She flushed but fidgeted patiently as he dug out from his satchel a tiny work laptop, loaned by his school for a winter project. Powering it up, she quickly accessed her email account. Her frown quickly returned. "Well, that's more or less what I thought. Though that was quick, even for them."

"Eh? What is? What was?"

"Just read this. I'll bet your school sent a similar thing, more or less." Mikoto turned the laptop and as he read, the boys surprise at morning's developments only grew.

The email was simple but sophisticated, with fancy electronic letterhead, matching his expectations of what a prestigious school like Tokiwadai would use. Skimming it, Touma saw that not only had all the bureaucratic paperwork been filled out, but that Mikoto's parents had already been contacted and their signatures collected. Even the requisite blood testing had apparently been done, though he was fairly certain that was just a lie on the City's part. It was all such a neat package of requests and permissions that the boy wondered why it was so much work to get out of the city normally. Aside from the standard warning to not abuse her powers or give the city a bad reputation, it was essentially carte blanche: Mikoto was free to travel.[3]

Touma shook his head, passing the esper back his computer. "How did they organize this? I mean, the flight leaves in a few hours! Did they just figure this all out or has this been planned for ages? And why do we only learn about it right NOW?"

"I don't know. I've had to travel out of country to do presentations for affiliated research institutions, but that was all business. I never got much notice then, either. But this time I'm apparently supposed to just go and relax, and it all looks official. " _And I need to figure out why. I don't trust anything this City says I should do. Is this some sort of favour I'll have to worry about later?_ The girl returned to the computer, trying to use it to hack through her school's database in search for the ulterior motive. It was slow and old, but the laptop could just about do the job. She set it down on the table across from the boy, and took a seat herself. She worked away, ignoring a nun who dove from the bed no longer able to contain her excited energy.

"YYAAYY! So we can go, right Touma!? I'm going to get ready, you go pack!" In flash Index had crossed to the bathroom, tossing out the pillow and blanket that a certain boy had been using. They bounced off his head before falling to the floor in a heap. Standing with a sigh he began to tidy the room and prepare their luggage. As he did he saw again the heavy expression on Mikoto's face, concern flitting through his mind.

"Hey, Misaka. You don't seem too excited. Everything okay?" Her head jerked up with a start, losing its connection with the computer.

"E-eh? Wha- I mean, p-pardon?" She had heard his words well enough, but hadn't realized just how much her suspicion had been showing. _C-crap! What, does he think that..._

"What do you expect, Imagine Breaker? The girl just had to spend an entire evening with you and then some more. I can speak from experience: your presence can really drain a person of energy. And the will to live." Othinus had stood up and walked as close as the shelf would permit the two, and as she finished she crossed her arms to await a response.

"Oh... Well, that _might_ make-" Touma's table nearly flipped with the energy Mikoto put into standing up. He barely caught his laptop-turned-projectile as the esper flared arcs of current. She aimed a dangerous finger just inches from the Magic-God's diminutive face.

" **THAT'S NOT** \- AAH, ahh, Ahem... T-that's not it at ALL!" Without flinching from the shout, Othinus re-instigated her assault by leaning forwards to close the distance.

"Then what is it? You said it yourself: everything looks official. So what are you afraid of? Or is it maybe something else that's bothering you?" Othinus glanced past the esper to Touma, who was sitting in stark confusion holding his laptop awkwardly. Mikoto whipped around, and suddenly realized who she would be attending this party with should she go. A whole host of new emotions was added to her internal pot-luck of feelings.

"Ack! A-ah... uhm... W-well, it's just so sudden! I have to... aah... P-pack? And get a new phone! And figure out what I should bring, and what to tell my friends! It's just a lot of work, is all! But I... I'm really excited! Yes, definitely excited." The esper nodded authoritatively, doing her best to not look at a certain spiky haired idiot.

The idiot in question straightened his table after gingerly moving the laptop to his bed for greater security. "Well, all right then. Everyone likes Christmas parties, I guess." He walked across the room to the sink, clearing it of burnt remnants of paper before pouring himself a glass of water.

As he sipped, Touma began to anticipate what might actually be coming. Would it be some funereal and officious ceremony, with waves of religious sermons boring everyone to a spiritual death? Or would there actually be food, some conversation... maybe even gifts for an unlucky teen? It was hard to say, but it always paid to be hopeful, so he smiled warmly. "Yeah. This could be really nice. We'll even be able to rest on the plane, after all this present making, since it's one of the slower flights over. Though we don't have much time to prepare..." The clock on his laptop had read quarter after nine: They had less than an hour to leave the apartment if they wanted even a hope of making the noon flight. Othinus shrugged her indifference, before leaning back against the wall to share one final jab.

"Well, the esper better get going then. Unless she wants to leave with just what she's wearing. I'm sure that's haute couture in London right now: the messy, 'I-just-fell-into-and-out-of-a-boy's-bed' look." The Magic-God's timing was impeccable. At that moment Mikoto was storing her letter in her coat and Touma had begun taking a long drink: She ripped a whole clean through her pocket while he sputtered noisily into his cup. Choking briefly, the boy wiped his face of moisture as Mikoto stood ramrod still, hand twitching inside her jacket's liner.

"PSSFFHHHWW!... O-Othi-chan, I don't think you worded that right! That has some serious connotations there and I didn't do anything to warrant them I swear! Y-yep, you must have meant something different."

"Oh. Maybe so." Mischief managed, the fairy-sized girl strolled back with a grin towards her shoe-box before hopping inside to plan out her own meagre belongings. Mikoto meanwhile had finally rebooted, falling back on her standard response to embarrassment. Her primary target out of view, she narrowed her sights and zoomed in on Touma.

"H-HEY, idiot! Don't be late! I know how much trouble you have with deadlines, and air-planes don't mess around with 'almosts'! So you better be ready, because I don't want to be waiting there by myself!"

"Hey, that's unfair! I wasn't THAT late last time..."

The boy struggled to defend himself to the rapidly disappearing back of the girl as she blitzed out from his apartment. A tiny nun was singing glorious carols in the bathroom as a Magic-God pondered inscrutable ponderings. Snow fell softly over a certain scientific city as their preparations began in earnest.

!~~~~~~~~!

11:19 A.M, December 24th: District 23: Academy City International Airport: 

"Hello there! Fancy meeting you here, Misaka-sama! How are you, after all that business in the Dianoid? I never saw you in the recovery area."

"Oh! Uhm... Good morning... K-kono-san! Yes, good morning!" Though not showing it, Mikoto was embarrassed by how long it took her to recall the name of the tall young man before her. _But in my defence, that was a busy night._ "Ah! And I'm good! I've been through worse." In fact, her greatest pain right now was not an injury from the battle, but instead the small puncture mark the security agent had made to insert the tracking bug into her. She was used to it, having left town a number of times in the past, and had even stopped complaining that it was pointless inside her since she could destroy it at will. So she had stoically borne the sharp pain, though she still picked at it absently as the boy before her shook his head in disbelief.

"Really? Well, I haven't. Hardly slept a wink! Sure been a crazy 24 hours. Oh, and call me Toyoharu, it's fine."

"Ahah, If you insist..." Mikoto glanced around in minor frustration, before glancing at her boarding pass. The airport was busier than it ought to have been given how quiet the rest of the city was, and so far Touma had failed to turn up. Still, he had a few minutes before seating began, so there was no need panic yet. That meant it was time to turn on the charm. It wasn't that she didn't genuinely like Toyoharu, but he was good practice for the inevitable kiss-assing she was expecting to do in London. Why else would Academy City be sending her out if not to meet some functionaries and play the diplomat? _It's either that or fight something..._ "Well then, if you excuse my asking, what brings you to the international airport this morning?"

"After that whole Dianoid terrorist thing, my parents got a real urge to see me and my brother again, even though they were on business in China. My school was surprisingly good about letting us go, even considering we nearly died and all that. Did all the paperwork for us!"

"Oh. Well, that... makes sense! Your parents seem very... attentive." Mikoto was surprised at how quickly Toyoharu had bounced back from the ordeal, but Academy City did breed some strange types. _And maybe this explains our letters: I guess it's easier to spread their cover story if they give all the students involved a bit of time off, plus it makes the parents quieter. Though I wonder..._ That was a problem for another time. Instead, she made more small talk. "Ah... and where is your brother... Where is... Fumio, yes? Is he with you-?" She had not expected to her comment to make the young man stiffen so: he suddenly looked about the lobby in panic.

"AH! Ah, right! Darn it, I got distracted! Now where..." The level 5 quickly put two and two together as Toyoharu darted back and forth, disturbing other travellers.

"...Oh, did he run off? I guess that's why you're in the European airport."

"Yeah... I lost him again. I've got time: our flight to Tianshui Airport isn't for an hour, but security was real unimpressed that he somehow managed to get through their barriers." [4]

"That is a pretty good trick." Though she was confident she could manage it, airport security was no joke for most folk. "I guess that explains all those uniforms rushing about..." She had been keeping a paranoid eye on the unusually energetic security officers, and was glad to finally have an answer that settled her nerves. "I'd love to help you look, but my flight to London leaves in very soon, and I'm still waiting for... a certain someone to arrive."

"Oh, you mean **that** guy? The one with the spiky hair? I think that's him over there, anyw... Hey! He's with- FUMIO! Where were you!?" Toyoharu rapidly bailed from the conversation to run over to his younger brother. The petulant child was anchored between Touma and Index, the former of whom was struggling under the load of two suitcases.

"O-oy! Hey there, Kono-san! I figured you'd be looking for your brother. Oh! A-and sorry, Misaka, we're a little late." He finally arrived at her side in front of their gate, leaning heavily on his luggage. She huffed, but gave a rueful grin as he loaded it on the conveyors which would take it to the plane's loading dock.

"You're actually just on time. Barely. And at least you were looking for his brother in the meantime." Mikoto gestured idly towards Toyoharu, who had just finished checking his brother over for injuries. Sighing in relief, he stood up and gave a quick but serious bow towards Touma.

"Thanks for that, Kamijou-san, I really appreciate it. Where did you find him, exactly, because I've been looking for twenty minutes!"

"The women's washroom." Index spoke up now, hitherto content to just watch the conversation.

"Ah, so you found him, Miss? Well, thank you!" Mikoto's eyes narrowed: from the way Touma flushed she suspected this was a misconception. Sure enough, Index's face registered only confusion.

"What? Me? It wasn't me. No, Touma just-"

"YES! Yes, it was her! S-she did all the hard work! Good old Index, ahahah!" A certain implicated boy was slapping his hand into her back hard enough to knock the girl off balance, but she tried to speak regardless.

"Ah! A-ah, hey! T-touma, what are-"

"L-look! It's time to board! Let's go, ladies, on to the flight! Good to see you again and take care Kono-san!" Transitioning his pats of encouragement into a guiding shove, Touma forced the nun into lining up for the flight. Sure enough, the light above the gate flickered green a minute before and most of the other passengers had already boarded. Rolling her eyes, Mikoto re-affixed her smile and bobbed her head in an awkward bow to the perpetually surprised Toyoharu.

"Sorry to run off, Kono-san. I'm glad you found your brother: enjoy your Christmas vacation!"

"A-ah... you too, Misaka-sama!" The young esper watched his idol disappear through the final security checkpoint onto the plane, and spent a moment thinking. "Damn. I totally forgot to ask her how she dealt with those terrorists, the clubs would have loved that..." Just as a few anxious security officers approached them, he turned to his brother suddenly. "...Well, I hope you said thank you to her, that... Whatever he said her name was- Wait. Why _were_ you in the Women's washroom, exactly?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"And why were _you_ in the Women's washroom, exactly? And don't think about passing off that same bluff: I know it wasn't the nun."

"...Would you believe it was an accide- Ah! Hey, don't! I know you can't shock me on an air-plane, but that doesn't mean you should punch me instead!" He recoiled in mock terror at her raised fist. Mikoto's only response was to toss her hair and lean back into her seat, huffing indignation through a light blush.

"Someone's got to keep you in check! Even if it your damned luck's fault, that just means I have to encourage you to compensate for it as much as possible. For society's sake."

"Of course you'd paint violence as public service..." _Well, on the bright side we're in business class, so I have at least a few extra inches to react if something does set her off._

 _Thank goodness we're in business class... I-if I was any closer to him, I don't know how anxi... a-angry I might get._ Mikoto swallowed nervously, unsure whether to curse or worship their seating arrangements. Not only did she have her favoured window seat, she was right next to the boy. On his opposite side sat Index, feet kicking in anticipation. The esper was surprised at how energetic the little nun was, but figured it would soon burn out. In the meantime, that left only one person unaccounted for.

"I protest this immensely. This is cruel and unusual punishment. This is as bad as having to live with you." A small but potent voice pipped up from the beneath the chair ahead of Touma, and he leaned down hastily to answer.

"N-now, Othi-chan, you said you'd be quieter..." He did his best to shuffle the girl's container a little further out of the aisle's view, but realized forlornly that there was nothing he could do about the sound that wouldn't look like animal cruelty. His entreaty did nothing, for the Magic-God felt an intense need to vent.

"No one's sitting above me yet. So I can complain all I want to. A-about... THIS catastrophe." Mikoto didn't even try to hide her smirk as she leaned over to the poke the front grate of the plastic.

"Hey, did you say 'cat-astrophe'? That's a pretty good pu-" She was rewarded with the swipe of a furry paw and something altogether too much like a hiss. The dour face of Magic-God Othinus, scourge of reality and one-time leader of Gremlin, pressed up against the bars of her temporary prison. It was one of the few cages which could hold her, for it was not designed to retain human occupants. In fact, to all of Academy City's technology it just looked as if two cats were being held within a standard animal carrier.

However, peaking inside closely enough revealed one very confused cat and one very angry miniature person in a doll-sized cat-costume. Index had mentioned that the magic involved required both articles, the costume and the container, in conjunction: something about expectations or somesuch. But Touma could still hardly believe they had made it through every security checkpoint. Mikoto had been endlessly amused upon discovering Othinus's predicament: the Magic-God was of a different mind.

"I was not joking and that was not a pun. This is horrible. The cat is right there, staring at me. It hungers, I know it."

"Hey, at least Sphynx isn't attacking you anymore, right Othi-chan? That's an improvement." There was no way for the girl to answer Touma, for the seat she was on finally became occupied. Instead she scowled even deeper and slunk back into the shadows of the carrier, glaring at Mikoto's chortling form as she went.

"Toouumaaaaa, how long is this going to be again?" Index had finally stopped her fidgeting and leaned into her companion, tugging at his sleeve.

"Index, we haven't even taken off yet. Are you already bored?"

"N-no! I mean, I just don't remember when we're going to arrive."

"It's on the boarding pass, let me check... Looks like we're landing just after seven."

"Oh... that doesn't seem TOO long..." It was clear that Index was trying to sound mature and responsible. Her failure became only more pronounced at Mikoto's unrequested clarification.

"It's still a 12 hour flight, you realize. Time zones and stuff."

"AAWWW, that's FOREVER..." Index slumped in her seat, a human puddle, as Touma shook his head beside her.

"It's only 5 more hours, don't look like that. At least we get TWO in-flight meals this way!" Though that did cheer her up slightly, Mikoto didn't look quite as impressed.

"I'd rather be there sooner. I really wish we were on one of the new super-jets, those are so fun... Hmm? Hey, what's wrong with you two?"

"N-nothing!" In unison Touma and Index recalled their experiences on those 'fun' hell-craft. Though they hadn't discussed it, had the chartered flight been supersonic they might not have even agreed to go. Index in particular gained renewed appreciation for this stately craft in comparison to its rocketing brethren. She patted her armrest almost fondly before fiddling with the small complementary T.V. screen embedded in the seat in front of her. It would not be fully activated until the flight took off, but it was better that staring at nothing. Touma decided instead to make conversation.

"Sooo, Misaka, how was Kono-san doing? I saw you were chatting with him a bit."

"Ah? Oh. Uhm, he seemed okay. Surprisingly good, actually. He's a real trooper."

"Really? He seemed a little antsy to me. Well, then again, he _was_ talking to you, so he was probably just a little nervous."

"What's THAT supposed to mean!?" Sparks crackled along her brow as Mikoto's fist actually made contact this time. There was no electricity to the blow but Touma still jumped in surprise.

"Uwah!? Hey, whoa, he's in your fan-club or whatever, right!? I mean, bumping into you must be like meeting your favourite idol on the street or something!"

"I-it's not a fan-club! Sheesh, he said so himself." She leaned away towards the window and pouted, so Touma just leaned his chair back as far as it would go and gazed up at the ceiling above him.

"Well, he does seem like a pretty nice guy. Nice and reliable, cares about his brother, brave and stuff. I bet he even has a crush on you." The boy did not plan those last words, but there they hung in the stale plane air. _Now where did that come from?_ Still, Touma did not have long to dwell upon that awkward thought, for a thousand-tonne weight descended forcefully on his chest. With it the cabin temperature dropped to freezing and the air rushed out from the room as if they had suffered a pressure failure, but through the chill he felt a nervous sweat breaking out. Unable to turn his head, he could only twist his twitching eyes to his right to glance over at the esper he had somehow upset.

Mikoto's body language had not changed, but instead solidified. Still twisted to the window, her back was to him. To most she would have appeared a statue, but Touma was more experienced than that. Though she still wore her thick toque and Tokiwadai's winter uniform, there was just enough skin around the back of her neck to reveal the countless tiny arcs of current. They told a different story, and though he did not know what he had done he was certain he had done it, would be blamed for it, and that it was going to end badly.

 _W-whoa! What's with that death premonition I'm having!? W-what d-d-did I-I... What do I say..._ "...Or maybe it's something else entirely!?" There didn't seem to be any better way out of the hole he had dug, especially considering Touma had no idea which way was even up anymore. There was no light at the end of this tunnel: Mikoto's reactions were as opaque as ever. That left just the blanket approach. "Whatever I said I'm sorry!?" _There! That ought to cover it! Now, let's get Imagine Breaker up JUST in case...?_

But there was no shock. No outburst. Not even a sigh. Mikoto just remained hunched up against the wall. Finally she crashed back into her seat, reclining it suddenly as Touma flinched, still turned away. "...Wake me up when we land."

"...Right." _Well, crap. This is going to be a long flight, isn't it...? At least I've got time to figure out what I said..._

!~~~~~~~~!

 **...And that's it for the first half! I hope to see you on the 22nd. It's good to be back!**

 **Footnotes**

[1] Some poor mail-person hoping for a quiet shift was about to be disappointed.

[2] Yes, that same nail from chapter 1 of part 1. Do you really think Touma is the kind of guy to get that sort of thing fixed in a reasonable amount of time? By the way, I think callback humour is the best kind of humour. You have been warned.

[3] French for "blank cheque": it's like someone rich gave you a cheque and just said "fill in whatever dollar amount you want, I don't care, I'm rich". It has been widened over time to include contexts like mine, where the person just has free authorization from their superiors to do what is needed to get a job done. More specifically, to not worry about the consequences of their actions because their boss says results are more important. Think James Bond, sometimes, with his license to kill. Also, side note: Academy City has a whole host of requirements for leaving town which I had nearly forgotten about. Hurrah for absentmindedly reading the wiki when I should be doing other things!

[4] Look at me doing more research! That's an actual Chinese airport and city, that is. I'm just assuming Academy City would make connections there, though.


	28. Part 1 and a half: Abridgement, 2nd Half

**Hello again!**

 **Before I continue I want to mention that from now on, and unless otherwise specified, updates will be weekly at best, coming on Friday when they do. I recently discovered that I had to get a part-time job to make ends meet. On top of writing a thesis and working at least 25 hours a week I'm running out of spare time, so I just can't promise the pace I kept up during the summer. I'm fairly confident I can still get 1 chapter out a week, though, so long as I stop writing bits out of sequence...**

 _ **Anywho**_ **, here's the second half of this Abridgement, leading up to the first real chapter of Book 2.**

 _ **A Certain Holiday Season Abridgement: Christmas Eve, Part 2**_

7:59 P.M., December 24th: London: Heathrow Airport, Arrivals

It hadn't been enough time. By their arrival in Heathrow Airport Touma had only narrowed it down to being something about Toyoharu, but even that much was uncertain. Though Mikoto remained tight-lipped even after the baggage claim, at least she was acknowledging his existence again. Taking that as a sign that things were on the mend, he put on his most cheerful face to meet their appointed guide from the English Church.

The group stepped outside onto the curb of a small side-road after taking the train into London proper, where the customs officer told them to await a pickup driver. Minutes passed, Index whinging about the cold while lightly swinging the animal carrier to and fro. The same drifting snow was falling as if they had never left Academy City. Here it piled higher and heavier than back home, but it created a familiar enough blanket.

Touma did not know exactly what welcome he was expecting, but when a dirty white van slid around the corner in reckless abandon his smile cracked. It wavered further as the vehicle pulled up to a slippery stop, spraying snow everywhere and startling unaware pedestrians. By the time the driver-side door slammed open and a familiar seductress stepped onto the road, his pleasant demeanor was but a shadow of itself. The girl's long black hair flowed around a thick fur scarf, framing her grinning face, rosy red in London's wintry chill. She put on a sultry pout, before winking emphatically.

"Hey there, handsome! Didja miss me?" Touma's smile rallied its scattered forces: though hoping for a more elaborate affair he was still happy to see the New Light magician. Mostly. She did have some awkward tendencies regarding his moral sanctity.

"L-Lessar! Hello. So, I guess you're our ride then?" _I guess it makes sense they'd be invited, too. Don't know why I'm surprised... or worried._

"Yep! Most of the official church staff is on break today, so they asked New Light if we could use our van to ferry you guys over. **I'm** also invited to the party, you know. Andeveryoneelseinthegroup, but ANYWAY! Throw your bags in the back, I'll pop the trunk." Sure enough, the van's back slammed open, rocking the vehicle on its shocks.

Passersby who had been watching since the dramatic entrance turned away bored as Touma began dragging luggage to and fro. Lessar at first watched him work with eager eyes but soon realized she had an audience of her own. Mouth agape, the esper's eyes narrowed in suspicion as the magician waved cheekily from over the van's hood. Suddenly recognition dawned on Mikoto.

"Y-you!? You're that brat from the crisis in Russia, back in July! Don't tell me... I KNEW you were fishy! You and that weird shop! And how do you know To... t-this idiot!?" [1] _Crap. So she's a rival... Wait, r-rival? What do I even mean by that..._

"Yeah, you got me. Well done, esper. I can see how you earned your place here." Lessar danced lightly back into her seat, ignoring the honking of vehicles that she inconvenienced with he slap-dash parking job. Touma latched the trunk shut, just realizing what the girls' conversation implied.

"Wait, you two've met? BEFORE I got involved in magic...?" _What sort of business does Misaka get into!? I thought I was the one who dragged her into magic..._ There was not time to consider the implications, for the van's front section erupted into noise.

"Hey, hold it! When did you get- The front seat's not for you! How am I going to put my moves on if...! Hey, you can't just run that full blast!" Still standing on the sidewalk Mikoto was first to realize Index had disappeared, but leaned over to the front passenger door in suspicion. Sure enough, the nun had claimed shotgun, face pressed up into the dashboard radiator to bathe in the warmth its exuded. She was hunched over the animal carrier on her lap, ignoring the best efforts of Lessar to pry her from the privileged position while shouting back to her guardian.

"Touma, I want to go see everyone! Let's go already, why are we just standing around!? It's cold!"

"R-right, okay, we're loaded. Misaka?" The esper spun just in time to see Touma sliding over the van's side door, gesturing with a free hand. "You want to get in?" Panicking, Mikoto glanced about for her suddenly misplaced luggage but noticed with a start that it was already inside the vehicle. She quickly understood what had transpired, blushing red through the pink already on her cold cheeks.

"I-I could have gotten my own stuff, you know! I'm capable!"

"Well, yeah, you carried it this far. But you were just standing there staring at Lessar, so I moved it. Sorry, I guess?"

"A-ah. Well, then. I suppose I'll get in." She sidled up to the entrance but the boy was just a little too close to the doorway. She hesitated as he stepped a little further back, making room. Deciding with chagrin that she had no real reason to be annoyed he had done her that favour, Mikoto paused and swallowed. _W-well, time to bite the bullet._ "T-thank you."

Touma looked up to this sky, brushing away a bit of snow that had accumulated in his hair. "Ah, no worries. Let's just get going: it's pretty late, even though the city lights things up a lot." The sun had long since set, but still London glowed with an undying aura. As the boy took the remaining space in the middle row, he was startled to see Lessar's face filling the gap between the two front seats. She had reclined her seat with a lever to lean as far back as possible, nose nearly touching her favourite passenger.

"Days in England are really short in winter. But that's good, because it's so much more romantic to walk around in the cool evening air as stars fill the sky, RIGHT Kamijou?" Her half lidded eyes were filled with amorous intent, but the effect was lost when she rocketed forwards and up, knocking the back of her head again the van's roof. Mikoto had reached over and wrenched the handle of the driver seat, causing it to unrecline at max speed.

"Hey, chauffeur-brat! I think you're causing a traffic jam." Sure enough, the honking of taxis behind their ride had reached a fever pitch. "Unless you want a ticket, how about getting us out of here?" Lessar blanched visibly, the indignity of her situation lost.

"C-crap, Floris will kill me if I get any police attention on this vehicle..." She whipped around and slammed down the pedal, burning rubber in a maelstrom of slush. They peeled away with surprising speed, and soon the airport was lost behind them.

The atmosphere calmed considerably; it seemed that even Lessar had to focus most of her attention on driving and Index was just happy to be warm, playing with Sphynx through the carrier. [2] Touma glanced to his left, watching Mikoto staring out the van window silently. He finally decided it wasn't with the same intention as on the plane when she had been mad, and so ventured to make a bit of conversation.

"It's a pretty huge place, isn't it? Makes Academy City even seem small."

"Oh, yeah. Everything is not quite as big as I remember it, but I was really little then."

"Ah, you've also been to London before?" Mikoto nodded absently, watching her breath crystallize on the glass.

"Mmhmm. Went with my family when I was young, did a lot of touristy things... Say. Wait, you've been here too, right? I remember that time you called me during Halloween... You know, you've still got a lot of your damned adventures to catch me up on!" She was fully expecting the boy to follow the pattern and become evasive, but was caught short by a counter-attack.

"How do you know Lessar, anyway?"

"E-eh?" She pivoted so fast her toque nearly fell off, but Touma failed to notice. He was now looking intently at their driver, as if trying to pull some hidden meaning out of her motions. The wipers were dutifully brushing away the drifting snow, revealing the surprisingly quiet street of London.

"You said something about a crisis in Russia, but I don't think you meant World War 3 because you were never near Lessar then. So when did you go to Russia and get involved with magic?" Mikoto blinked violently, struggling to defend herself from the strangely phrased accusation.

"A-ah, that was before I really knew you, and it was all Academy City's doing! And I didn't know she was a magician then, it was-it was all kinds of mysterious!" In flash she recognized the obvious problem with her explanation. Her soft laughter drew Touma's eyes, and she blushed before turning away. "...I guess we've both got things to share, don't we?" A genuine grin split his face and he laughed as well.

"Probably. But I expect mine will take a little longer."

"W-what's that supposed to mean!? I've gotten into plenty of trouble, I'm sure I can match your stories!"

"I hope not." His abrupt seriousness caught the esper short, but they could only stare at each other in silence for so long. They were both slammed forward suddenly, motion arrested by seat-belts. Whipping back into their seats, the vehicle soon darted left and right, swaying violently back and forth: loose lady-like items and random bits of trash bounced back and forth the cabin. A bit of lipstick caught Touma in the side of the head just as he leaned forward in panic to grip the driver's seat.

"W-what's happening!? Are we under attack!? Do I need to get up on the roof or something and deflect magical missiles with Imagine Breaker!?"

"No, but if you want to give that ~~~-hole who stole my lane the finger, you can be my guest! YEAH, I'M TALKING ABOUT **YOU** , YOU- THAT'S right, turn away! Prick." There was no unseen enemy, aside from the average traffic conditions of London, England. Though Index was gripping the carrier case in white-knuckled fear, the situation had rapidly regained normality as Lessar rolled her window back up. Touma had not even seen it go down, but clearly the New Light magician was an aggressive driver. He leaned back, but realized after this exchange that a new worry had formed.

"Hey, Lessar, how are you even allowed to drive? You're younger than me, right? ...Right!?" They van swerved again and he was slammed back into his seat next to an increasingly paranoid Mikoto.

"Oh, it's okay. Floris taught me." The calm tone of the magician fooled the boy only a second.

"...WAIT! Did you just dodge my question!? That means-ACK!" Traffic had picked up again, and the vehicle entered another flurry of motion.

"Oh, stop worrying. This isn't my first time driving, I must be in the double-digits by now. Besides, I'm doing well so f-HEY! YOU ~~~~~~~, DOES IT **LOOK** LIKE I'M YIELDING!? NEW LIGHT NEVER YIELDS!" Screaming her battle cry Lessar performed a triple lane change into a tightly spiraling off ramp, slamming Mikoto into her window. Touma followed shortly after, rocketing towards the esper. He felt his life flash before his eye as he hurtled towards her crimson-tinged face. With miraculous speed honed by untold combat experience he managed to put both hands out before him, trapping her between his arms but safely holding back from a squishing catastrophe.

The danger was not yet over, whether or not the car drove safely. For he was all was too aware how deadly this position could be. He tried to pull away but the car's spiral continued, g-forces pressing him forward soundly. The girl's eyes were screwed up tight, and Touma was vaguely aware of the sound of teeth grating. He knew he had to do something, but there was no where to go.

"Uh... hey?" Perhaps speaking wasn't the best choice, for his words conjured a row of sparks along her brow just inches from his. Yet nothing happened.

 _NO. **Cool** it. I-I've got to make sure I'm on my best behaviour..._ But there was no way in Hell she could open her eyes under these circumstances, to meet his questing gaze. So she waited, feeling the warmth of his altogether too close body while trying to imagine it was a space heater.

The off-ramp suddenly ended and the boy was wrenched from her side. He half-fell into the little gap that separated the door from the seats: he completely fell in when Mikoto was thrown into his side as well, held back partially by her seat belt. The entire vehicle then ground to a juddering halt, tires sliding along went pavement.

"All right! We've arrived! And there's even a welcoming party... More than _WE_ got when we arrived." Lapsing into self-centred muttering, Lessar stomped out of the van.

Touma tried to get up as well, but remained tangled in his buckle. Finally succeeding, his careful efforts to stand were undone when the sliding door he was leaning against was opened from the outside. Spilling out into the snow onto his back, his brief happiness at the soft landing was undone instantly by the sight of Mikoto tumbling out after him. Apparently still off-balance from her ordeal, she had been caught by his released seat-belt and was making an accidental precision dive straight for his abdomen.

There was only so much resistance a girl could offer. The shock wasn't quite as dramatic as during their fight over Othinus's fate, and it only lasted as long as it took the girl to throw herself from his prone, twitching body. Rolling through the snow, she avoided the person who had opened the door in the first place, whose confusion and shock was battling with worry. The latter won out, and the girl about Touma's age knelt down in the snow by the boy.

"A-ah! Sorry, so sorry! Are you two okay?" Touma felt for the demure yet anxious voice nearby, reaching for a hand dimly seen. However, as soon as he grasped hold the person in question tensed up and pulled away, dragging him to his feet as she jumped back. Yet he hung on, and after brushing the snow from his eyes recognized his helper.

"Agh... Such mis-Ah, hey! Itsuwa! It's been a while, how are you doing?" He eager greeting made the Amakuza-Style magician's blush deepen. She couldn't meet his eyes, instead just glancing down at their held hands and shaking.

"I-I'm good. Thank you for your concern. I'm sorry I made you both fall out into the snow." _T-though I don't know about the electricity..._ Touma in typical fashion had fully recovered, well used to both shocks and falls.

"Don't worry, I'm sure something else would have happened instead. At least this was survivable." He let go of her now, watching her relax with strange sigh. _Why does she sound almost... disappointed? No... I'm sure she's just glad she didn't hurt me. Or something._ Stretching, the boy just barely noticed the esper off to the side muttering as she clambered upright. "O-oh! Sorry, Misaka, are you okay? I mean, you were well enough to shock me, but still..."

"- _another_ girl...? M-mm? Oh, yeah, no, don't think about helping me. I'm just great."

"W-what's with that threatening tone for such innocent-sounding words!? Last time I helped you I got snapped at, this time-"

"CONTEXT, IDIOT. Learn it." _God damn it, Mikoto, calm it down, first impressions time, this is another person I've never..._ The esper finished standing, and once again recognized a face she wasn't expecting to. "Wait... Y-you're that girl Tou- I mean, t-that idiot was knocked into way back then! And later in the baths... I never did get to ask you what was going on!" [3] It seemed poor Itsuwa was destined to be flustered this day, for she also had clearly not known the familiarity would be mutual.

"Ah! So y-you're this 'Misaka Mikoto' I'm supposed to be... S-sorry, we can talk more inside. For now, welcome to England, Misaka Mikoto-san. I hope we can get along w- OOOH! Oh, a-and hello to you too! Though you really don't need to hug me like that!" True to her destiny, the girl was thrown off-balance by Index who wrapped her arms around from the side in a flying tackle.

"Itsuwa! Why don't you come by anymore? I've missed you! And the food you brought, but also you, really!" The nun's gripped only harder, her arm bracing a certain part of Itsuwa's anatomy. While Touma shuffled with a blush towards the van's rear mumbling something about suitcases, Mikoto zeroed in on the problem with laser guided anxiety.

 _Damn it, ANOTHER, even bustier girl? That's two now, and she's even tried the food route too- Wait. No, stop it. STOP it, brain! Get on track._ Yet even as she focused, she took note of the imposing structure before her. Not quite on the scale of Academy City's buildings, St. George's Cathedral had a unique atmosphere of grandeur and mystery. Driving up she had seen its great Gothic tower rising in the distance, lightly dusted in snow. She had meant to do some research on the place's history before leaving her dorm, but had run out of time. Still, she at least knew the church was quite old, important, and the site of several renovations throughout history.

Their van pulled through a stone archway to arrive in a large rear parking lot. A surprising number of spots were filled, but there seemed to be room for hundreds of visitors. They van had parked just before a set of gates, high-strength steel, beyond which there was an unattended security booth and barrier protected a small inner courtyard for loading vehicles. A dozen feet to the side was a small personnel entrance, where Lessar had already escaped to. She stood there, impatience obvious, so Mikoto took the initiative among the otherwise stalled newcomers.

"A-ahha, say, Index, how about we go get our bags and stuff and go indoors? I'm sure Sphynx is getting cold, after all."

"...sure, think about the cat, but forget me..." The small voice from within the carrier was just barely audible: if anyone heard, no one reacted.

"Ooh! You're right. So, uhm, where are we going? Is there a hotel nearby?" Index craned her neck around and about the girl she was holding, but failed to see anything obvious.

"Oh, no: your letter should have said." Itsuwa looked down at her notepad, reading off her instructions yet again. "Yes, here it is. Don't worry, we have rooms for you within the church."

"I..." The little nun was struck into silence. Touma had returned with his and her bags, and watched the familiar Index transform before him. Gone was the carefree and innocent smile she habitually shared with the world. She didn't frown, scowl or pout, didn't seem struck by fear or worry. Her face was a blank slate. Her eyes focused on an invisible point lost in the distance, piercing through the wall of the Cathedral as if it was never there. Her voice was calm when she continued. "...wonder how long it has been." Her tight grip on the animal carrier's handle was the only sign of inner turmoil.

"Hey! Hey, what are you all waiting for!?" Lessar was waving from an entrance into the Cathedral proper just within the courtyard, sheltered by a small awning from the snow drifts. "This is our way in. I'm not bringing any of your luggage in, you know!" Oblivious to the shift in mood, the magician disappeared back into the church.

Itsuwa hesitated, but realized she wasn't really needed anymore. "I-I'll be inside, getting things ready. Just bring your things into the inner halls, I'll take you to your rooms shortly. I... I'll go now." The young girl hurried away through the outer gate, leaving the Academy City delegation unattended in the chill London night.

Touma shouldered the lighter of the two suitcases, walking up his long-time companion and roommate. His concern was painted clear, but there was no simple way to express the pains he secretly shared with his ward and roommate. [4] So instead, he fell into his familiar role: the last path out.

"You know, I bet there will be more people from the Amakuza church wanting to see you, and all the nuns and magicians we've met from the Anglican side. You remember that big meal we had before the battle in the British Halloween? It'll be just like that, so it's really only been a few months, right? Since you were last with everyone, I mean." Touma knew it was a false answer, but that was the best he could give. Index's memories stretched hardly back longer than his own, but if it helped him to focus on that which he could remember, perhaps it would help her?

She didn't quite smile, but the thousand-yard stare dissolved. The girl nodded serenely, putting on her best demeanour. "Yes. We shouldn't keep everyone waiting. Let's go in." It was a rare instance of the girl actually looking like the nun she aspired to be. Touma's admiration of her renewed, and once again felt the pang of his deception burn as Index sedately made her way inside.

Yet the sound of her stomach growling cut into the night, and her pace accelerated dramatically. Sighing, the boy found his smile again as he dragged his load after her.

Forgotten, left alone beside the parked van with her things, stood an esper in a peculiar state of mind. She wasn't quite able to determine what she was feeling just then, as she watched the boy she was so focused on share his unique talent. _But it's not like he can run out of it, is it? He's always got more to give. Always giving it to someone... But still... Is it wrong to feel... Well, I don't know what's up, but clearly that nun... clearly Index is upset, so I should focus on that. I've just got to focus on that: I can't just be selfis... self-centred._ Yet even as she made that promise, she found her gaze drawn to a certain boy's back, that she so often resented being behind and fought to stand beside. _But why does that sound so hard?_

There was nothing else for it. The girl directed her eyes to the ground before her and ratcheted the handle on her own luggage, trudging her way through the slush one step at a time. Just when she got into the rhythm, she realized the foot prints she had been shadowing stopped. They ended abruptly in a pair of shoes, which transitioned into a pair of pants, attached to a certain awkwardly waiting boy. Leaping back, she squeaked her surprise.

"Eeep! Wha, what are you doing!?"

"Well, everyone else is inside. Didn't feel right to just leave you out here." Sure enough, Touma was standing a few feet in front of the door leading deeper within the Cathedral. "I don't want it to seem like we forgot you. I mean, even though you've recognized two people so far, I don't think even YOU could know everyone here. I don't want to just leave you... somewhere unfamiliar!" _Crap, please don't let her remember Hawaii, I don't know if she's forgiven me yet for just leaving her there!_ But Mikoto's attention was elsewhere. Surprisingly, she was looking over the boy's shoulder with a reserved expression.

"W-well, ah... What about...?" He was slow to understand her question.

"Oh, Index? Itsuwa is serving cookies her, so I think she'll be fine for a while." Though it took him a while to get there, he eventually realized the significance of that observation. "...So you noticed, huh? I don't know what she would think about that..."

"A-ah? I-I just saw that she seemed upset, and you... being you. Trying to comfort her."

"Eheh... I suppose. I guess you probably already know about feeling like this from your own experiences, but she's got something in her past that's difficult to talk about. I think she'll deal with the problem her own way, but I want to be there however I can, right? I can't really share what little I know, and I don't think it's right to pry. So... please... just..." The words so carefully arranged in his mind fumbled into the night. _How did you ask one friend to look out for another or be careful without actually saying anything? Do I really have the right to share that burden, to pass aside my own obligations and doubts and worries about the girl named Index? To lay yet another problem onto Mikoto, to interfere in both her and Index's life even more? ...What am I even thi-_

"I understand."

"A-auh?" His inarticulate reply must have been joined with a similarly off-balance expression, for Mikoto laughed aloud.

"Well, not really, but I get the idea. Don't worry: I don't know her all that well, but I'll try to keep an eye out for her. I'm used to worrying about thousands of younger sisters I hardly understand: what's one more, right?" Though still smiling, her expression softened as she turned away, a flush of blood warming her face. "Y-you can rely on me, like I said you can." For once, Touma didn't look away. For he had just come to a rather startling conclusion about the esper he had been hanging out with for the last few days. She pushed past him now, swinging her suitcase into the Cathedral: so she was just to far away to hear his parting comment.

"Mikoto-Onee-Chan, huh...?" _Yeah... I guess that does make a strange sort of sense._

Soon a voice called him inside, and he closed the door behind them.

!~~~~~~~~!

They snacked only briefly in a large dining hall. They had passed through a large warehouse like area and down two hallways to reach it, but had not seen another person. At a certain point Index's power switch must have flickered, entering a state of near total exhaustion. It was barely nine, but everyone agreed: it was time for bed.

Itsuwa took an antiquated lantern from a wall sconce and led the party towards their arranged sleeping quarters. They were led down a thin hall into a narrow spiral staircase, luggage awkwardly bumping behind them. Uneven gray bricks the size of cinder blocks structured everything, and the flickering firelight painted their stony path mellow oranges and reds.

"H-how deep does this-ow-go?" His burden knocking against his ankles, Touma was anxious for an end to their descent. He craned his neck around Index to address Itsuwa, who half-turned with a guilty smile.

"Sorry, I know it's a ways down. Where we are going, not too far. There are rooms much further below, but those areas are reserved for specific purposes. They couldn't really expand this base to the side or up inconspicuously, so back before World War 2 Necessarius dug deep and installed many secure bunkers."

"Ah... to protect from aircraft strikes." Just behind the boy Mikoto nodded knowingly, before stumbling a moment. "W-wait, before!? Did you magic people somehow...? Know in advance the war was coming?"

"It wasn't my group, so I can't tell you if they had real foreknowledge. We weren't involved here back then. Maybe they jut saw the writing on the wall...? Either way, this church survived that conflict more or less intact, probably thanks in part to their advanced preparations."

"Ah, right. Sorry, just curious." _How many groups of magicians are their even? How complicated are their politics going to get? I'll have to be careful here..._

"Oh, don't worry, Misaka-san, I understand. Feel free to ask questions: you are our ally after all, there's no sense hiding anything." Itsuwa did her very best to show an earnest warmth, but could not have expected the response the esper hid.

For that off-hand friendly comment provided the last clue Mikoto needed to explain why she was sent to London this Christmas. _Of course. Intel. Academy City has apparently been working or at least dealing with these guys for a while now: I bet I'm here as some sort of exchange or pawn in some larger deal. But I haven't been informed of any duties, and I know I haven't been bugged with a monitoring device... I could tell if they planted something on me. So how are they going to get me to spill the beans... Hmm. I'll worry about that later. Just have to play it cool for now._

The spiral downwards finally leveled out, and the party arrived at yet another long hallway. At least this one was fairly wide, so the party could spread out once again. To one side were a row of solid oaken doors, stretching off into the shadows: at the very first Itsuwa stopped and produced a key. "It was decided to give those from out of town the easiest access, having the most luggage. So, Misaka-san, you, Index, and... Wait. D-did I forget to run through the checklist... W-where is-"

"I'm in here. _Hurray_. I've been remembered. What fortune." The little animal carrier's door shook weakly. Startled, Itsuwa leaned over to inspect the pet carrier. Sphynx was sleeping in the back, and there was only the Magic-God in her neko-disguise, with stare only the utterly defeated could wear.

"Oh." It was impossible for her to believe this diminutive girl had once been almighty. "How... cute?"

"Gee. Thanks. Just what I needed to hear. Can you just let us in? I feel an urgent need to groom mys- I MEAN, c-clean up. I need out of this disguise yesterday." Even as she complained their room's lock was being manhandled. Soon it's latch clicked open, and their quarters were revealed.

"Right. Amenities are inside: there should be enough space for everyone. We only had a week to renovate things: these rooms haven't been used since World War 2, so the quality might not be as great as you're used to. I hope you'll find it comfortable..."

"Wow. What is this, a Hilton?" [5] Mikoto's appraisal was hardly an exaggeration. Though the hallway outside remained roughly-hewn stone, the inner apartment was carefully plastered in tasteful paper and warmly decorated. Four large beds were spaced roughly in a square, with an accompanying nightstand and desk against each wall. At the room's far end, just past the row of beds a small rec-centre had been set up, complete with wrap-around cough and big-screen T.V. A small door in the wall just beside the tv was left ajar, appearing to lead to a spacious on-suite bathroom. The air was pleasantly warm and clean. "How'd you get all this underground- Oh. Never mind." _Right. Magic. This COULD be done with science, but I guess their way works pretty well._

"Aha! Bed!" Index pushed past the esper to leap onto the nearest bunk, but was knocked immediately aside by Lessar to tumble in an uncoordinated lump on floor.

"Nope! I got here first, THAT one is mine! Everyone knows the best bed is by the door!" It seemed the New Light magician wasn't idly boasting; her bags were already by the bed.

"Ow!" Index almost lapsed into a sulk, but quickly changed her mind. "Ah! That's not true! The one by the bathroom is best!" Dashing across the room, the nun left Lessar in a pickle.

"Guh! ...N-no, I've got to stick to my guns. This one is best, I know it! I don't care how smug she looks..."

"Wait, shouldn't you be with your other magical friends? There were more of you back in Russia..." Mikoto's memory didn't play her false: though she had no real knowledge of New Light she was aware enough of Lessar's allies. The magician started upright, appraising her rival through slit-eyes before putting on an easy-going affect.

"Ahah, well, I figured that since everyone else in the room would be more or less new to Great Britain, it would be good to have a native around helping out. I mean, I'm from Scotland, but that's a lot closer than anyone else. So just think of me as nothing but a friendly guide, for all you clueless tourists! Mmhmm..." The magician's satisfied smile did little to put the esper at ease, but Mikoto couldn't be bothered to argue. Instead she knelt down to deal with the gently shaking animal carrier which had otherwise been ignored. Though it seemed Sphynx was sound asleep inside, someone else within had had enough.

"There. Run free." A certain magic god was finally set loose from her bondage. Scurrying towards the bathroom door the cat-like figure disappeared, slamming it shut with surprising strength. The sound of running water and angry muttering could soon be heard. Mikoto paid it no heed, instead rolling her luggage up next to one of the remaining beds. "Ah. And I guess that one is her's." A cot about a foot long had been erected on a separate table between her chosen bunk and Index's. Itsuwa nodded, her look hardening.

"Right. And I'll be taking the final bed, once I show Kamijou-san his room. You also don't have to worry about Othinus here, Kamijou-kun: for the duration of this trip, the church will temporary assume your guardianship duties. A-as way of saying thanks, I mean."

Mikoto arched an eyebrow, noting that yet another person involved with the church didn't seem to have her own room within the Cathedral. But she said nothing, and only waved vaguely back in response to Touma's gesture as he was lead away.

Itsuwa led the boy down another minute down this hall, before turn down another staircase. This one did not spiral but instead when down in a slow slope. They passed torch after torch, and when Touma lost count he began to get nervous.

"So... This place sure goes on, huh? E-exactly how much further now?"

"Sorry about this... You're one of the few men who's staying here, and it was eventually decided that it would be best to... Keep you a little further away from everyone. Y-you know."

"...Y-yeah, I get it." _How bad of a reputation do I even have!? I'm not THAT unlucky, it's been weeks since I actually walked in on a girl changing or something..._ His sullen thoughts were interrupted by a sudden sharp cry of pain in the distance: he stumbled, and would have added his own after banging a toe had he not been petrified. "W-what was that? Is this place haunted? Are ghosts magical? I don't think I've fought ghosts-"

"H-haunted? No, I doubt a consecrated church would... Oh, that must be the interrogation wing. You don't need to worry, it's not directly connected to here. It's just you can sometimes hear things through the ventilation. Or so I assume, anyway, I'm not usually down this far." Itsuwa paused, noticing her guest had stopped followed. "...Hmm? What's wrong?"

"N-nothing! Nope, everything's good! It's not like anyone's going to interrogate ME, right!? Not worried at all! AHAHA!" She didn't quite believe Touma's good humour was real, but was too embarrassed to press the issue. A small hallway soon leveled off from the stairs, ending in an abrupt door.

"...I'm absolutely certain you're right. Ah! Here we are. Your room. It's private, because the other men attending have arranged their own accommodations or already have permanent rooms here." She unlocked the heavy door and passed the boy a key, being very careful to avoid touching his hand for long. "I've got to go up to see to a few last things." Just as she turned to leave, a hand on her shoulder surprised a cry out of her.

"Itsuwa, you sure seem busy. Are you running this whole show by yourself? Do you need any help or something?"

"W-what? M-me? Oh, sorry, please, don't worry about me... I'm j-just helping out: it's just that many of the nuns and such who are doing mot of the work took today off so they could work the actual holiday, you know..." Without turning to reveal her blush the girl pulled away. "I'm sorry, b-but, but I have to go! So, please, let me know if you find you need anything! L-like a hand towel...!" The light she carried disappeared back down the hallway and up the staircase, and Touma had no idea of the struggle being fought to contain a young girl's racing heart.

Instead he shrugged before opening up his quarters.

They were not quite as nice as the girl's room was, but he did end up having a great deal more space. In fact, the room seemed nearly cavernous, and wasn't quite lit up by the single central hanging light fixture. His bed was by the far wall, with a bathroom all his own separated by a small door. It was very different from home, but it was certainly clean and workable. He rolled his luggage over to the room's dresser.

Just as a bone-chilling wail pierced the night. It was high and feminine, but full of utter dread. Touma paled, a cold sweat dripping unnoticed down his neck.

But there came nothing else. Only total silence. With no where to go and only his fists to protect him, the boy prepared himself for bed.

Before turning in for the night, he careful went to his room's door and turned to lock secure.

Then unlocked it, and locked it again.

And then moved his nightstand in front of it, wedging it under the doorknob.

"There. B-better than nothing." _And now maybe I can sleep._ In his pajamas now, he made for the bathroom door and closed it behind him, settling in to sleep. He was surprisingly tired: apparently sitting on a plane didn't quite make for ideal rest. He lay in silence for a few minutes before the question hit him.

 _Wait... Why am I sleeping in the tub exactly?_

11:54 P.M., December 24th: _Location: Unknown_

Her cellphone clicked shut. The woman held it next to her ear, breathing deeply. Controlling herself.

When her balance had returned, she picked up the strange bronze object she had orchestrated so much to get in secret. She turned it about, this way and that, trying to get a sense of its weight and heft.

Soon she lay it on the edge of the circle she had spent the last day preparing in the. Holly and flax was carefully arranged around the perimeter, as was a sampling of bronze scraps. Even more metal, however, had been shaped in the circle's centre, in the conspicuous shape of a man.

She noted the time.

She double-checked her groundwork.

Soon the moment came.

There was no hesitation.

Stepping to her position above the odd bronze object, she thrust her arms out beside her. They were covered in a woolen coat, worn thin after untold years of use but still warm enough to survive. As she stretched, she felt the power flow from her, a familiar power down a new channel. Inside her something stirred, elated, but she ignored it as an unexpected and unneeded emotion. She focused harder, and felt the magic come to life as she spoke the needed words. The metal effigy stirred then spun in the harsh light.

"...Quarum dies Nativitatis Domini, dilectus meus dedit mihi... persequitur perdix in arbore pyri."

!~~~~~~~~!

"Oohhh... Oohhh my. Myyyy Oohhh my... Where-ever am I? What tongue am I speaking? And...! My flesh! It's... This is a wonder! What a fabulous... Are you the one I have to thank for this? Oohhh, speak your wishes, my dear: I am in your debt, as far as I can repay it."

"I did this. And we have more work to do. It is now the First Day, and you are the First Gift and First Key. I know you understand what I mean, and the debt you must pay. "

"The first... Oohhh, you would remind me of my ancient wrong! How cruel, how cruel. Oohhh, but wait. My dear, does that make you... are you... The _true_ First? Come to reclaim the world?"

"No. But I am the Last."

!~~~~~~~~!

 **How's that for an introduction?**

 **With that out of the way, or are you ready for...**

 **...Enemies ancient and modern?**

 **...A setting filled with magic and science, characters new and old?**

 **...A rather liberal interpretation of canon materials and some truly outrageous leaps of logic?**

 **...Comedy, mystery, action, and romance juggled as if by a clown with fine-motor-control issues?**

 **...And one very magical Christmas celebration?**

 **If so, buckle up. Because it's almost time for...**

 **A Certain Holiday Season, Part 2: The Twelve Days of Christmas**

 **I hope you'll join me for the first real chapter, coming on October 9th. I hope to see you then!**

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] Refer to "Toaru Kagaku no Railgun SS2: Shopping Mall Demonstration" for this story.

[2] Othinus of course remained in a fabulous sulk in the carrier's rear, slightly nauseated from the way Index carries her prison.

[3] Acqua of the Black arc. Man, it's going to be interesting referencing these things constantly. Part of the reason this has been slow in coming has been due to the massive amount of research I'm having to do to avoid the most glaring of errors.

[4] Referring to how both Index and Touma have missing memories: hers extend back further in time, but it is mentioned in various places that Index doesn't remember for certain where she grew up. However, as a nun she believed it was St. George's cathedral. I'm guessing that staying a night in the place where she was born, raised, and experimented on might have some sort of impact on her. It's hard to imagine it not.

[5] If you're not familiar, the Hilton brand of hotels are considered pretty swanky in most quarters. Mikoto would know, because I'm assuming she's stayed in a few.

[6] I'm going to warn people in advance: in the last Book I kept within the realms of canon as far as I could as far as magic and science goes. This time I'm going to be ambitious, and try to drop a bombshell I'm not certain anyone has really considered, while technically staying true to the rules. I pray that, even if you disagree with my interpretation of the possibilities, you can still enjoy this story for what it will be! But that will all be revealed in good time, so don't worry about it for now too much. I did as much as I could to make things sensible and be internally consistent. I even drew up a map of the Cathedral based upon the image provided in the anime, so that I have something to refer to when writing description. I did have to make up a lot of the details, but that's fairly inevitable. If there is some resource out there which precisely lays out the place's floor plan, just assume that after World War 3 or the English Civil War they had to renovate or something, or I'll write it in if possible.


	29. Part 2: Chapter 1

**Well hello. What a pleasant surprise, seeing you here. Please, pull up a chair. Have a seat, rest your feet. Take it easy for a bit.**

 **Just like last time, we'll start things out with a nice, mellow pace. It's important to have the context of peace to make the drama of conflict more meaningful, isn't it?**

 **Without further ado, I welcome you to...**

 ** _A Certain Holiday Season: Book 2_**

 _ **The First Day: Christmas**_

 **Chapter 1**

8:24 A.M., December 25th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Dinning Hall [1]

A glittering morning light shone through delicate stained-glass windows into the large dining hall of St. George's Cathedral. It reminded a yawning Touma of a certain series of young-adult movies: several long rows of wooden tables and benches stretched off in an otherwise open chamber. This version had a different layout and was much shorter at only two stories, but it seemed all the larger for his solitude. The boy had stumbled upstairs half-awake when he could no longer stand the eerie basement and found himself alone in the great church. Yet there were muffled music and chorus in the sealed room across the far hall, prompting him to wait for whatever was going on to finish.

Atop his table were several bowls partially filled with cold biscuits. He was just starting his second when he finally heard footsteps echoing from the same hall through which he entered. The half-ajar door soon revealed one of the girls he had traveled with: her head was lowered, and she leaned heavily against the door-frame rather than entering.

"Oh. Hey, Misaka." She raised her head, bangs drifting in front of half-closed eyes. She raised a hand to brush them aside, wiping at her eyes as she did, and the boy took in her morning appearance. _Wow. She's out of uniform. Well, partially, anyway._ Though she still wore the checkered blue skirt of Tokiwadai's winter ensemble, the black cardigan seemed surprisingly mature for the Mikoto he knew. Then he saw the small Gekota emblem just over her chest pocket and smiled. Before immediately panicking and glancing away, acknowledging he was staring at a girl's chest, whatever size, while smiling. _N-nope! Not falling for that one. Too tired to get zapped._

Luckily for him, she didn't seem notice. "...Mrhrmrm..." If it wasn't for her nod, Touma would have assumed he hadn't been heard at all. Both had prominent bags under their eyes, and no more was said for a moment. Finally he reached into the bowl and made an offering.

"Biscuit?"

"...Thank you." The Mikoto wandered over, taking the proffered food. She shuffled past as if planning to sit on the bench next to him. Just as she moved behind his back she froze, pirouetted, and wandered back stiffly to take the seat across from him instead. Testing the stale biscuit she pulled a sour face. _Ech. These are much better warm... eh?_ Her distaste was apparently visible, for Touma was watching her with a raised eyebrow. Coughing in embarrassment, she made sure to enjoy her next bite before clearing her throat. "S-so... How was your night? You seem, ah, t-tired."

"I was going to ask you the same thing. Not... terrible?" It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "All right. It wasn't great."

"Why? YOU didn't have those four for roommates..."

"Really? What happened?" She hid her face behind the biscuit, the memory striking her hard.

"I don't know if I should talk about it." Dreading a repeat of last night's experience, Mikoto genuinely wondered how his could have been worse. _So many things I didn't need to happen... Pheh..._ "W-what about you?"

"I just heard horrible night-piercing screams from some interrogation chamber or something that wasn't a big deal at all really and didn't scare me even a little."

Mikoto started awake at that news. "What!? Are you serious?"

"Yeah." Nodding glumly, Touma again paused to reconsider. "...Well, I actually only ever heard _two_ screams, but then I just lay there all night expecting more..." It seemed that his ordeal, however, was not what interested the esper. She leaned forward onto the table, sleepiness already forgotten.

"Wait, are you saying this place has prisoners? And _torture_ chambers? I thought we flew to ENGLAND, not Spain... These people seem too quaint or modern for that!" [2] Or so Mikoto thought, before recalling the redhead who showed up after the fight at the Dianoid. _Then again, not all of them gave that impression..._ Touma took another biscuit and spoke around a mouthful, missing the point.

"Eh, I don't know. I never really felt most of them blend in all that well with modern society." He swallowed, wagging the hunk of baking that remained at his colleague. "Besides, you do realize this is actually the base for an secret-magical-government-organization, right? They're bound to have stuff like that. Did you forget the kind of people these guys fight? You've been around for a few of their battles. I don't think it's right, but there it is."

It finally struck Touma that for the first time he was inside the headquarters of the English Church. This came with a dim awareness that in the not-so-distant-past he went against this group's express wishes regarding a certain defeated Magic-God. _Would it make sense to pray in their own church they don't bring that up and try to interrogate me or worse? Though I suppose they did already punish me by giving me yet another roommate..._ While he deliberated, Mikoto fought to regain her poise from his unintended slight.

"I-I figured that much out! I mean, all those bunkers and tunnels. Besides, there are no outside church-goers on Christmas Day for mass, so it's obvious this place is highly restricted to the public." At this, Touma twisted about, looking at the closed door behind him. A voice droned on from within, reaching for a greater energy than before. There was also the bright organ music that seemed to emanate through the walls in all directions, vibrating the very stone.

"Ahh... So THAT's what they're doing..."

"What did you THINK was going on in there, a seance? Did YOU forget that this is still a church?"

"H-hey, with these guys, a seance or something is all too likely!" _Crap, now she's got me thinking about ghosts again! Don't worry, Kamijou-san, the voices you're afraid of are just tortured prisoners, that's all... That didn't help. That didn't help at all._ His malaise was so deep that he hardly registered the door behind him slamming open at long last. Though he did recognize the petulant voice that was the culprit.

"All-right! It's time! It's finally time!" Index was almost turning cartwheels as she spun through the portal, plowing past a number of bewildered nuns. She noticed the familiar shock of black spiky hair hunched over a table and leapt for the boy, latching onto his arm fondly. "TOUMA! TOOOUUUMMMAAA! It's time for presents!" She was almost vibrating, overflowing with excitement: both he and Mikoto found it impossible to not be swept up in the moment, smiling along with Index.

"Yeah, that does sound nice. But I didn't see any tree when we came in..." Mikoto closed her eyes for a minute. "Is it somewhere underground maybe...?" The esper abruptly opened them in shock, feeling Index rushing over to slap her hands onto the table in righteous fury.

"Are you crazy!? You can't have Christmas underground! Santa would have had to come in past everybody, and plus there are no chimneys going down there! He must have brought the presents somewhere else!" The intensity on the nun's face was palpable. Realizing she had no actual basis to doubt the existence of Santa after everything else magical she had witnessed, Mikoto decided to drop the more existential question altogether.

"R-right... So, uhm, where then? Would the tree be, I mean?" As soon as she said it, the level 5 observed she had said something wrong and was paralyzed in indecision. For just as suddenly as she had approached Index leaned back and away, expression downcast.

"...I don't know." It was unclear to Mikoto why the little girl in front of her had lost all enthusiasm. A glance at Touma made it clear that though worried, he wasn't particularly surprised. Rallying, Mikoto stood up quickly, patting Index on the shoulder hard before starting to lead her away.

"Well, I guess we should just go look then, huh!? I mean, they've got to have something set up, this is a Christian institution after all!" As Touma stood up to follow, a sudden voice cut them all off as one.

"Hey! You can't just wander around here like you own the place! Why do foreign visitors have no respect?" Freezing, the esper pivoted, dragging her charge towards the steady stream of people that had been filling out from the church. Before they had comprised of St. George's local staff, but a familiar group of four girls had just entered the dinning hall. The one who had spoken was Lessar, somehow energetic despite the bags under her eyes. Touma gave them the once over.

"Oh, it's the rest of you. Merry Christmas!" He cheerily waved his third biscuit at the group of four. "Let me guess: Mikoto, you know the rest of New Light already?" At her hesitant nod he pumped a mental fist into the air. _All right! That's one less awkward introduction between girls that I have to make!_

"Ah, yeah... I think. You're... Lancis? Is that right?" She pointed awkwardly at the one with short brown hair, who after a moment's delay nodded. The addressed turned with lethargic eyes back towards her group, finally deciding it was worth the effort to speak.

"Uhm, Lessar, we're visitors here too. Just because we stay here all the time doesn't mean we live here."

"I know that! But at least we're British! AND Christian! We have some right to it, you know?" Lessar looked to her other comrades for support, but found none forthcoming. Instead a taller girl with blonde hair and a stern expression pushed her way to the forefront. Mikoto tilted her head, about to make a guess to her identity, but was cut off by a wave.

"I'm Floris. Yes, we met in Russia. Merry Christmas, by the way." Though she was addressing Mikoto, the esper was hardly spared a glance. Instead this new magician made a beeline for Touma, who at first was only vaguely confused by the attention. After some thought the boy remembered his relationship with this particular New Light member, abandoning his seat and stumbling back with alacrity as the details sunk home.

"Eheheh, hey, Merry Christmas! Hey, so, y-you're not still mad about that whole thing back with the train and the river and Curtana are y-GGRRRK!?" [3] His collar tightened so hard in her left hand that he was wrenched off-balance, knocking into a table behind him. The magician's face was pressed up against his, the fire in her eyes betraying the steely coolness of her tone.

"Did you think getting us presents would get you off the hook? You've got some nerve." She unclenched her other hand, which had at some point donned the magical steel glove New Light members were known for, pointing it at the boy like a taloned claw. "You're lucky it's a holy day for me, otherwise I'd make it a hole-y day for you."

"A-ah, was that a pun in English!? Because I don't really get-URK!" Cut off again by the tightening of her grip, Touma tried reflecting on how nice everyone was being by speaking Japanese around him. "Ech-ch... A-anyway, you're not going to hurt me today, right!? That must be what you meant! So, how about we all just enjoy Christmas!?" For the boy had suddenly remembered who they had as an audience. Mikoto was very clearly winding up for a fight, electrical potency charging, but hesitated upon Touma's hurried explanation. Finally, Floris took a deep breath and backed down as well, magical tool disappearing as fast as it came.

"Yeah. You get a pass. For now." Rejoining the group, she ran into the iron wall that was the last New Light member. Seemingly the oldest, she shook her head at Floris's unseen expression, silver hair shaking around over-sized vacuum tube hearing aids.

"Floris? What are you forgetting?" Bayloupe was also somewhat familiar to Mikoto, but Touma had actually never met her in person. Still, he was was somewhat aware of the girl's status as the leader of the Scottish Cabal-Reserve-Army. "We discussed this."

"Tch... Damn it, why are you making ME..." Seeing the unyielding face of her older team-mate, Floris finally relented with a heavy sigh. Turning now with an unexpected blush and stiff bow, the magician spoke to Touma. "And... thank you the gifts. We didn't open them yet, obviously, but I saw them under the tree." Her tone indicated the most begrudging of appreciation, but the boy was just happy it wasn't outright vitriol. He didn't have time to dwell on it, for Bayloupe stepped forward to take charge yet again.

"Right. You guys just came in, so I can tell you where to go. The trees are set up in the Community Room, just across the courtyard. You haven't been that way, have you?"

"No. At least, we came in through the side hall by that warehouse place." Mikoto shook her head, trying to get her bearings. "I think I saw a central courtyard through the windows in the hallway. Is that nearby?"

"Yep!" Lessar saw a chance to regain the spotlight, darting across the room. "Let me show you: it's actually just through this door here!" She swung it open, letting a chill wind and the light of morning flood the dining area. "Hurry up, we're wasting time! Most people have already headed there! We'll run out of presents!"

Lancis peered over Floris's shoulder, minor irritation visible as she shivered lightly. "That's not how presents work... and they all took the indoor route. Can't we just go around the outside like everyone-Ah!" The petite girl had to leap back to dodge Lessar's prodding elbow, which she had thrown across the room along with the rest of her.

"BUT the outdoor route is more ROMANTIC, RIGHT!?" Suddenly the magician was gone again, this time latched to Touma's arm and making forcible headway to the great outdoors. "Come on, Kamijou, don't you want to experience all of the U.K.'s charms? ALL of them...? I'm sure you're excited, even though your feet seem to be dragging just a little bit! Come on, step lively!" In seconds they were gone, Index following close after and New Light trailing behind.

"H-hey, don't just leave me! Wait!" Mikoto made to follow, but paused at the rumbling of her stomach. Looking back at the few cold biscuits remaining, she sighed and threw one into her mouth before giving chase.

She stepped out into the chill, immediately glad she had donned her cardigan that morning. Though the underground corridors were all suspiciously warm, she certainly expected the outside London air to be bracing. It was strange to wear anything other than her Tokiwadai uniform, but Mikoto had decided it best to bring at least a few public clothes for this trip. The biting wind didn't bother her much now as she entered the expansive courtyard of St. George's Cathedral, chewing quickly on her last bit of breakfast.

On all four sides, heavy brick walls rose to intimidating heights. The yard was dozens of meters across in a wide rectangle, with a statue of the institution's patron saint standing high in the centre. His famous lance was pointed aloft in defiance of all dragon-kind, lightly dusted by drifting snow, with his free hand resting on the pommel of a blade. The lawn, hedges, and benches were blanketed in white, as were all the roofs visible from her low angle. It really was a picturesque Christmas scene, one hard to recreate in manufactured Academy City.

Of course, not every element of it was agreeable. Those details in precision marked the esper's thoughts as she caught up to the group shuffling along recently cleared pathways of cobblestone.

 _God damn it, she's just hanging off his arm as she drags him around the longest path! And what does she think she's doing, pretending to be cold like that!? He's CLEARLY more cold than she is, and this was her idea in the first place!_ It was taking every ounce of Mikoto's will power to maintain her polite facade as a foreign representative of Academy City. _Well, at least I can rest easy knowing that my gift will... Wait. Wait a minute. What am I forgetting...?_ Her reverie was snatched away by the flurry of motion in front of her.

"Are you SURE you don't want to go on another lap around the grounds, HMMM? It'll be just US this time..." Lessar was attempting to drag Touma away from the sanctuary he so craved as he desperately held onto a nearby hedge for support, snow clouding around them. He twisted his neck to face Mikoto, a silent plea for support on his face.

"..." _I have no problem breaking this little affair up._ Though the magician seemed to have a strange, metal, whip-like thing wrapped around her waist, it didn't seem appropriate to just launch the girl into Low Earth orbit with it. _I guess I'll have to settle for the diplomatic approach._ Sauntering up to the struggling duo, she tapped its magical component on the shoulder.

"Eh?" Surprised only for a moment, upon recognizing the esper Lessar's face froze. "What. Do YOU want?" Mikoto had been more than prepared for this response, aware that she had been pegged by the girl as a rival in some unspoken contest. So rather than getting annoyed, she put on her most insipid expression and stared Lessar down.

"I was just thinking how dead everything around here is. I mean, gardens and courtyards aren't really that impressive in the middle of winter, now are they?"

"W-what? What are you trying to say!?"

"It's just not very warm and inviting for visitors, that's all." Flicking some snow from her locks, Mikoto brushed past the now motionless magician to stand in front of the closed doorway through which the other guests had entered. "Now, what's really nice is a roaring fireplace, good company, some hot cocoa, a thick blanket, candle-light, someone to c-cuddle up w-wi..." Realizing she had slipped into describing a personal fantasy scenario in unexpected depth, Mikoto immediately backtracked. "ANYWAY! Ah, how about we enjoy British winter AFTER the sun has warmed things up a little? Besides, I bet they're all waiting for us inside to get started opening presents." ... _That wasn't exactly what I intended to say, but..._

"Hm-mmm..." Surprisingly enough, Lessar was considering the argument, though Mikoto was concerned that too much attention might be being paid to the romantic bits in the middle. Still, with a dramatic flourish she released her captive and sauntered inside. "AAAALLLL right, then. I guess presents are a pretty good way to get the ball rolling, too... I'll see you inside, Kamijou!" Playfully waving to her potential paramour, she shouldered Mikoto out of the way to head indoors.

Rubbing his arms vigorously, the freed boy shuddered his way after Mikoto, who had halted just inside the Community Room. "Thank you, I was freezing out there! Man, that Lessar is always a handful... Whoa."

"I'll say. This is pretty nice." The room was an expansive gymnasium-like affair, yet it was still stuffed to the rafters with decorations and festive spirit. Three opulent Christmas trees served as centerpieces, spaced in even thirds across the hall, and around each were circled rows upon rows of gaily decorated presents. Beyond that were a number of tables covered in dainties and pastries and such, most of which were being roundly demolished by Index as a number of nuns watched in horrified fascination. Sitting in a chair across the room was Itsuwa, waving hesitantly and pointing to a number of available free spots. Each seat had a piece of paper with names scrawled across, and though it was too far away to read Mikoto guessed hers was on one nearby the friendly girl. "So, I guess we should...?"

Touma was still busy admiring the dangling wreaths, but nodded distractedly before glancing around the room. "Yeah, sure. Lead the way. I didn't think there would be this many people." There were over fifty already in the room with more straggling in. Though he recognized many, he didn't have time to count at the pace the esper was setting.

He followed her back as she threaded through the congregations, smiling and saying hello when he recognized a random English nun or Amakuza-style member. Mikoto quickly observed that the majority of those acquaintances were girls, and almost all of those girls were giving Touma very warm and telling smiles. A certain rail-gun reflected in a moderate huff that it would be enough to make a girl jealous, were she the jealous type.

Her sourness deepened as upon reaching Itsuwa, as their seating arranged was revealed. Touma took the seat with his name, just to the right of their blushing guide. Mikoto took one to the magician's left, idly wondering if this arrangement was intentional. Predictably the boy was oblivious, smiling tiredly.

"Good morning, Itsuwa! Sure is busy in here."

"Good morning, Misaka-san, K-Kamijou-kun... I hope you weren't waiting too long for our Christmas service to be over." She seemed surprisingly alert to Mikoto, especially as she considered her own condition.

"No worries, Itsuwa, we're fine. Right Misaka?"

"Ah, yes, don't worry, we're just grateful to be invited."

"Oh, that's good to hear. I'm sorry how loud everyone was being last night, Misaka-san, but at least we're ready to the start the celebration today!" The young girl's warm smile put Mikoto at ease. She hadn't realized how tense she was becoming, despite the pleasant atmosphere. Still waiting for the shoe to drop, the unseen political machination that would somehow put things askew... Even if the girl couldn't believe yet that there was no ulterior motive, perhaps she could unwind enough to try and enjoy the festivities.

 _At least this Itsuwa's nice enough, even if she's coming betw... No, NO._ _ **No**_ _._ "A-ah, so, Itsuwa-san, are we still waiting for people? It's already pretty crowded, but no one is opening anything yet."

"You're right, Misaka-san: the delegation from the Roman Catholic group is coming in as we speak. They needed a few minutes after mass before coming down, apparently." Sure enough, a group by a secondary entrance to the Community Room was making a stir. Mikoto mulled over this information before abusing her privilege as a guest.

"Roman's Catholic, huh... Itsuwa-san, could I trouble you to explain the various groups here? I only recognize a few people from this side of things."

"Ah, of course! I'm sorry, I completely forgot that was something I should have been doing!" Mikoto hadn't meant to embarrass her, but Itsuwa rallied quickly. "Uhm, how much do you already know?"

"J-just start from the top. So-o-o... Which group are you with? ...Y-you are a magician, right?"

"Yes, I am. Officially, I'm in Necessarius, the 0th parish of the Anglican Church; essentially it's magical division. It was organized in the past to protect the church from heretical worship and witchcraft. Nowadays its a prominent branch of the official church itself. I personally belong to the Amakuza-Style Remix of Church."

"Amakuza? That seems more Asian than anything else, so why are you in London?" _And why is magic even so tied to religion? But one question at time..._

"Oh, we're newer members, at first just strong allies of Necessarius. We joined after our leader did, and the Anglican church lets us operate just like we used to. You can tell us apart from the others by our casual clothing. See?" Sure enough, a handful of those present weren't dressed in religious or otherwise formal attire. "The Anglican contingent usually dress in more obviously religious uniforms, but if you want to see really formal attire, just look at the Roman Catholic group. They were only with Necessarius officially for a short time, but since they're the London branch now they were invited as well. I won't explain the politics, but they are friends of ours."

"I can see from their robes they mean business, but why is that tiny one in front wearing foot high platform shoes?" Touma, who had been investigating random decorations hanging above, perked his ears up at Mikoto's observation.

"Ah? Do you mean Agnese?"

"Did I hear my nam- Hey! Boy!" A petite redhead in many thin braids had stomped her way through the stunned crowd like a mother goose leading her gosling. That, or a general on dress parade, judging by her commanding strut. "So where's my present? Angeline, go check under the tree!" At Agnese's gesture another short girl, this one with long braids in her blonde hair, scurried towards the nearest tree. After a second she lifted one up with a cry.

"Ah, yes! Here!"

"Good! You didn't screw up, Kamijou!"

"Wait! T-There's a few presents here!" Angeline put aside the first, and then a second. "Hold on! There's actually three!"

"R-really? Wow... Do I really mean that much to you? I... I don't know what to-" Lost in dramatic revelry, the leader of her self-named forces failed to notice a second subordinate break away from the pack. Again blonde but taller and with shorter hair, the other girl investigated the first few presents.

"Sorry, fearless leader, but these are labeled 'Agnese Forces', not 'Agnese Sanctis'."

"Lucia, don't tell her that!" But Angeline's plea was too slow in coming.

"What!? I don't warrant an individual gift!?" The battle-nun Godzilla-ed her way to Touma, nearly toppling him from his chair. He waved his arms helplessly as the girl gripped at his shirt.

"Ah, well, about that...!" Salvation came from an unlikely corner as a third member of the forces, face unseen, pipped up by raising a hand.

"But, Agnese, it's not like _you_ got him an individual gift either, remember?"

"You made us all pitch in, at any rate..."

"Yeah, you said you were brok-" The fifth and final comment was cut off by a loud crash. Touma and his chair had fallen like Tokyo's National Diet Building after to Agnese's half-aware shove, her face and ire alike turned back onto her subordinates. [4]

"That was just because none of us are paid that much! How much do you think custom shoes like this cost!?" Finally gaining some perception of her situation, she backtracked suddenly, attempting to put on an innocent persona. "Plus, it means more if it's from all of us! Christmas is all about the spirit of community, after all!" There were some grudging acknowledgments among her acolytes, but a quiet voice from the floor took this chance to make his pitch.

"S-so, don't my gifts to all of you at once mean more, too? I mean, spirit of c-community, right!?"

Agnese froze. She barely masked a frown, but was betrayed by the twitching of her brow. Finally she spun, braids twirling towards the unfortunate Touma who had just picked himself up from the ground. Agnese could only sigh at his cheesy, half-hearted smile.

"...You win this time. Again." Waving her hands she orchestrated a temporary retreat amongst her forces, but before they all meandered away to find seats and relax, she twisted back with a blush. "A-and, Merry Christmas." About half of the Agnese forces gave a similar response, before hurrying away in a blushing titter from the perplexed boy.

Mikoto was about to protest the unfairness of it all when a crinkling static demanded the party's attention. Voices hushed and heads turned towards a small raised platform, set up with a old-fashioned radio microphone and podium. There two women stood together, one gingerly taping the microphone she had just activated on its platform while the other looked about as bored and disdainful as someone could be.

"A-ah, hello, everyone. And welcome, uhm, to St. George's Cathedral. Those who are new here, I mean. Ah..." The first woman leaned forward to reach the microphone, her generous bosom making it difficult to get close enough for her voice to be picked up. Short blonde hair peaked out from within her hood as the podium rocked all little from the pressure. "E-either way, we'd like to extend to you a very... A merry..." She paused here for a second, looking across the room. Suddenly her eyes alighted upon Touma and she gave a cheery wave. "Oh! Hello, Kamijou-kun! Merry-Aahh! S-Sherry!?"

"We all know it's Christmas! Let's just get this over with." The second woman was in stark contrast to the first, hair wild and clothing unkempt. She had elbowed her companion out of the way to wrench the podium over to her side. "You probably know who we are, but I was told we have to say this crap. I'm Sherry Cromwell, and that's Orsola Aquinas. Since for some bloody reason we're managing this shin-dig, listen up." Her broad, heavy voice crackled painfully over the faulty pick-up of the off-balance microphone. "If you haven't guessed, we're opening presents first. Then comes Christmas brunch. More info about later stuff will be after that." Sullenly she stepped aside, allowing Orsola to retake the stand.

"Yes, thank you, Sherry." Seemingly unperturbed by the abrupt transitions of her partner, Orsola smiled brightly as she retook the centre stage. "Christmas is a wonderful time to remember those good people and experiences in our lives, celebrating by giving and receiving. There is a long history of Christmas in England, celebrated in many traditions, songs, and activities, which we plan to enjoy in this and the coming days." She relinquished the stand one last time, and Sherry gave a final terse message.

"Some staff will bring the presents to you, so try not to mill about and confuse things. Stay in the seats where your names are, or this will take even longer. You can complain or say thanks or whatever later at brunch."

"Sherry, aren't we still supposed to-" But Orsola's voice lost its amplification as her body was dragged away from the stand by her partner, leaving Mikoto with a few questions.

"So, ah, Itsuwa-san, who were-" Their guide had no time to answer, for Touma was already muttering aloud in worry.

"It's good to see Orsola and Sherry getting along so well, but I'm worried about the kind of activities they might have come up with..."

"You consider _that_ as getting along _well?_ " Mikoto's surprise at his observation was only one part of her increasing consternation. _More to the point, how many of these girls does the idiot personally KNOW?_ She was afraid she would soon find out, for after the pair's closing remarks Anglican serving staff began the long process of distributing gifts. Between the two Itsuwa pursed her lips thoughtfully, trying to remember the details.

"Miss Stuart thought it would be best for their development within the church if they had experience handling a big event like this. That, and something about it being funny... A-anyway, don't worry, Kamijou-kun, they are just keeping us to a schedule and informing us, the events were organized by committee."

"Oh, okay. But, ah, who is this Miss Stuart? She someone new?" He was suddenly assailed from both sides by shocked cries.

"There's a woman here you DON'T know!?" Mikoto and Itsuwa's unified disbelief demanded some sort of response from the boy, who felt the stab of his honour being impugned.

"W-what's that supposed to imply? I'm sure there are tons of people here I've never met!" He was not encouraged by their dubious looks. Luckily they were all distracted by the abrupt arrival of Index, who had apparently been removed from the snack table with judicious force. At least, that was judging by the speed with which she was hurled into her chair next to Touma. Her pout didn't last longer than the time it took for the first present to arrive, and the celebration began in earnest.

!~~~~~~~~!

Mikoto was well aware that she wouldn't be having much to open during this trip. Yet she was content knowing her friends and family would have gifts waiting for her at Tokiwadai, while looking forward to seeing their reactions to her own gifts to them. So she was able to enjoy the happiness of those around her without envy. There was, however, a growing concern in the back of her mind. A niggling doubt that was worming its way to the fore.

How the order had been determined was not quite explained, but Index received the first gift from the serving staff. When her frenzied unwrapping had revealed a brand new "Walking Church" robe from the church she was ecstatic, lapsing only for a second into a glare at a blushing Touma. But Mikoto was mentally elsewhere.

That little doubt had grown and grown. It had no shape at first; she couldn't quite articulate it.

Until she finally realized what had bothered her out in the courtyard.

Her knuckles whitened, gripping her chair's seat. The problem had come to clarity only upon seeing Index's new habit.

 _I mailed his coat to his apartment. Not to ENGLAND. WHY WOULD I MAIL IT TO **ENGLAND!?**_

Itsuwa got a gift next, revealed to be the hand-towel from Touma. She promptly fainted, and he was forced to use it as an emergency fan a little sooner than anyone had expected. Mikoto's worry deepened.

 _Crap. CRAP. GOD DAMN IT CRAP! How did I forget about that until now!?_

A blissfully unaware boy soon became the beneficiary of a startling number of boxes and bags. First up was something from Stiyl, and though Touma was marginally surprised that Mister too-cool-for-school had bothered, he was even more surprised by the contents.

"C-cookies!?" Upon trying one he realized how they fit the magician's character, eyes watering. "W-wow, these are really spiced!" _I guess fire can be used to bake too... Still, who do I thank, him or Innocentius?_

Many more packages seemed to be food related, making him wonder just how much people thought he could consume. _I guess most of the people who might want to get me gifts don't see me all that often relaxing, so they wouldn't really know what to get... I understand how hard shopping can be._ Still, he enjoyed the idea of pastries so numerous that even Index couldn't eat them all, and genuinely looked forward to the gourmet hot chocolate set that the Amakuza group had sent as a whole.

However, when he got another gift in the same wrapping paper, he realized this one was separately issued. It appeared to be delivered not just from Kanzaki Kaori, but Ituswa as well. She apparently noticed as well, looking down in deep crimson.

Blushing in unconscious sympathy he unwrapped it carefully, feeling the heat of Index watching to his side. When the lid was at last lifted, he gasped at what the box contained.

"A book...? Wait, a scrap book?" He flipped the cover, seeing first a picture of a familiar church. He suddenly recalled it as the place where he had fought to protect Orsola Aquinas during the Book of the Law incident. It was also where he had first met the Agnese forces and the Amakuza-Style Remix of Church, fighting each group at different times. He was unsure of who had taken the pictures, but there were scenes of both fighting and the ensuing happy ending.

On the next pages were scenes the boy hardly remembered: if he wasn't in the picture he might have assumed he had never been there. It came to him in a flash: it was from his abortive vacation in Italy, in Orsola Aquinas's house before she moved to London. Things began to add up.

His suspicions were confirmed on the next page, where he was expecting to see the French city of Avignon. Sure enough, he even recognized bits of scenery from the town from churches to parks, in surprisingly tasteful shots considering how the place had been damaged from their adventure there. Though he hadn't had much time to sight-see, it was familiar enough.

He paused on the next page, which showed scenes from Academy City's underground resort in School District 22 before it was destroyed. Glanced up, he saw the nervous wreck Itsuwa was becoming. "Ah, Itsuwa-" He was cut short.

"I'm s-sorry! There are only a few pages, but it was all I could do-"

"Itsuwa, this is great! I love it! But I have to know, when did you take the pictures? I was there most of the time, and I didn't see anything!"

"Ah, well... I have a lot of practice. I'm technically the Amakuza Church's chronicler, so I have to maintain records of our activities and such. So I've gotten quick at taking photographs..."

"Ah, really? That quick? You'll have to show me some t-" He was blinded by a sudden flash. Blinking rapidly, he saw that nothing had moved: yet Itsuwa was already shaking out a polaroid as if nothing had happened. "W-wha...? Wow! That was so fast! And I didn't mean you had to do it right now!" _H-how ready was she to do that!?_ The answer became apparent.

"B-but you said I could... You d-don't mind, do you?"

"What, no, of course I don't-" Another flash, followed by two more. His eyes didn't have time to recover. "AAGH!?"

"Sorry, sorry! But I don't often get to use the flash, so I really wanted some with good lighting! H-here's one for you!" Touma felt the print being shoved into his hand. "Please, don't forget to shake it well!"

"Aah-hah, o-okay. Right." Mid-shake, he remembered himself. "But really, thank you very much! Your gift means a lot to me, so thank you!"

"Ah... A-aah...Uh..." The girl caught her breath, though was still unable to look at her companion. She seemed somewhere between depressed and anxious when she finally spoke. "It was actually the Priestess's idea... And she helped to plan the layout... S-she's can't make it until this evening, but asked me to say... M-merry Chr... Christmas. For her." Despite her distress at relying upon the saint Kanzaki Kaori for a gift idea instead managing on her own, she could smile at least Touma's obvious pleasure.

"Well, I'll have to thank Kanzaki-san as well then! Merry Christmas, Itsuwa!" He didn't hear her soft response, for yet another gift was added to the pile at feet. Touma was receiving a number of glares from the staff who were doing to work, since despite being a popular destination for presents he had lately been taking his time to progress in unwrapping. Others were apparently already done, so the boy swallowed awkwardly and picked up the pace. _But still_ _, what a problem to have! This is luckiest Christmas ever: the tree hasn't even caught fire yet!_

Luckily even his head had an end, with Index helping to organize the presents that ended up being food. [5] Those were quickly dealt with, leaving him some time to enjoy his new favorite variety of gift: the ones that immortalized events. An example being the small model "Queen of the Adriatic Sea" that the Agnese forces had apparently commissioned in tandem. He didn't know if they had used magic to shape it, but he expected it was delicate from the subtle glass-work.

The Anglican Church itself had given him a small model of St. George's Cathedral, intricately carved and surprisingly sturdy, to commemorate his current trip. He looked forward to placing it on a shelf somewhere to remember this trip, when he also remembered Mikoto who had been surprisingly quiet this whole time. _Oh. I guess she wouldn't have gotten many gifts to open, so she's keeping quiet. At least she'll have mine to..._

 _...M-mine to..._

"...Agh!? AAGH!" His sudden eruption drew everyone's surprise. Though he tried to look casual after regaining a grip on the miniature church, his glance over at Mikoto was filled with panic. _I remembered everyone else, so what must she be thinking!? This whole time I got so wrapped up unwrapping...! While her present must be sitting back home in her dorm!_

The girl in question looked up, startled out of her own concern by his commotion. Yet as she felt his gaze her anxiety rose anew, turning away to hide her eyes. _Crap! He did, he DID notice! I knew he'd notice! D-damn it, what do I say, "Oh, just open it a week or so later when we get back, whatever"!? How heartfelt does THAT look!?_

Though both were aware of how little at fault they personally were for the sudden trip, it didn't do much to ease their minds. Soon the issue loomed large, since the last of the other guests was leaving for brunch. Inevitable Index popped her head around from the far side of the group, already eager to move on as the remaining staff tidied up.

"Can we go now, Touma? I'm hungry. Are all the gifts done yet?" Though Index was oblivious to the tension, she did think of her and Touma's companion. "Oh! Short-hair! How about you, are you done?"

"A-ah, well, you see..." The silence dragged out until the boy cleared his throat.

"Uhm, Mis-"

"Sorry! Sorry! Make way!" A young nun of Anglican leaning burst through from the side entrance, letting in a blast of cold air. She darted over to the group, as the few remaining guests got out of her way. Skidding to halt, she nearly dropped the presents she was carrying. "I'm so sorry! These had been left in the warehouse area because they were specially summoned: somebody forgot to sort them with the rest!"

"Ah? Summoned? What do you mean?" Itsuwa tilted her head in curiosity, but the two on either side of her suddenly felt a warm ray of hope.

"We had to intercept the mail-system to do it, but we had enough warning to make sure these got here on time! ...Though It didn't help that one of them had ACTUALLY been wrapped and posted by some RANDOM Academy City girl..." The nun didn't notice her muttering was audible, immediately transitioning back to perfect politeness after her lapse. "Once again, I'm terribly sorry for the delay! Excuse me, now, I have to go to the Dining Hall! Please, head over when you are done to enjoy our brunch! If you put the name from your onto your gifts, some staff will come around shortly to deliver them to your room for you! " She gave away a present, one to Mikoto and the other to Touma, before sprinting off back the way she had come.

"Oh! Well, isn't that nice... Ah? A-are you two okay?" Itsuwa's concern was well founded. Mikoto had nearly slid out of her seat in relief while Touma was leaning over his own package in devotion to whatever power was looking out for him. Suddenly he sat upright.

"Wait! This isn't what I got you... Hold on, t-this present is FROM you, Misaka!? You got ME something!?"

"Hey! Why do you sound surprised that I got you a g-g... A GIFT!? What's that implying, Idiot!? I'm no Scrooge! Besides, you clearly got me something, a-after all!"

"But you didn't know that! I thought you... Ah..." _Well, wait. What did I think? I already know she doesn't hate me, despite the shock treatment. So... I guess she's... a friend? But... Maybe, then..._ "A-ah, nevermind, sorry! It's just, I don't expect many gifts for Christmas, that's all."

"Come on, even **you** aren't so unlucky that you get nothing but coal."

"Well, okay, I get some things from family and stuff, but not usually... Let's just say this has been an astoundingly lucky Christmas so far. I mean, aside from my rice cooker, nothing has been destroyed, and I've gotten WAY more gifts than ever. Sorry, guess I'm just still surprised. Thank you"

"T-thank you, as well." _Well. That wasn't quite as bad as I thought it would be._

Itsuwa coughed. "You, uhm, haven't opened them yet."

Mikoto and Touma realized just then, for the first time, that they would have to actually open the gifts.

In front of the other.

 _AAAAGHHH! No no no! I-I could just about imagine doing it in my dorm once Kuroko was gone, but like this!? He'll be watching, right!? I, I don't know... W-why is my heart is pounding!?_

 _If I don't react to this present the right way, will she go ballistic on me!? But to know what do now, I'd have to see it first! Which means opening... I just want my heart to keep pounding!_

"Hey! Touma, I'm hungry! Hurry up!" Index's shaking had her desired effect, speeding her guardian along. Swallowing hard he glanced over at Mikoto, who had entered into a battle of wills with the gift before her.

"Ah, s-should we go at the same time?" _Good thinking, me! That way she'll be too distracted by her own gift to see my initial reaction!_ The esper nodded jerkily, but it was hard to see past her bangs whether she was truly ready. "A-all right then."

Despite their agreement, nothing happened. They glanced at each other again before Mikoto spoke.

"S-so, on three?"

"Yeah."

"...One."

"THREE!" Startled, Touma began tearing into his paper, only somewhat aware a number had been skipped. Embarrassed at being left behind, Mikoto quickly followed suit. "THREE THREE THREE! GOOOOOOO!" Index's shouted cheers had accelerated events exactly as she had planned. In seconds the gifts were revealed.

"-Ack! How!? When!?" Mikoto was in total shock. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but the limited edition Gekota brooch from the Dianoid was not it. "I-I thought I'd never see this again, since it was a special production run just for the mall's reopening and now its just gone! When did you... Ah... A-are you... T-Tou...?"

The boy was shaking, staring down at his gift. "This..." She looked closer and realized with horror Touma was holding back tears. "T-this... this is..." Mikoto had no idea what do or say: dumbfounded, she watched as Index leaned in to investigate.

"Touma? Touma? Is that a jacket-" With a roar the boy stood up, holding the coat aloft like his first-born child.

"THIS LOOKS SO **WARM**! So impossibly **WARM**!" He stretched it out, eyes boggling at the many linings and padded layers. "How THICK is it!? Wait, is that FLEECE!? As in, ACTUAL fleece!? Oh, where have you been all my life!?" He donned it with a fumble, marveling at its feel but suddenly paused. "Look at this this hood too, it's... WHOA! H-hold up! Misaka, how much did this cost!? All I got for you was-"

"SALE!" She now joined him standing, knocking her chair back with the fury of her motion. "It, ah, it was on sale!" _T-technically true. 5%, but true!_ "It wasn't all that much! I-I've spent way more on my own coats and stuff..." _Still true._ "Besides, this brooch... I really wanted it, so t-thank you! But how did you even get it?"

"Oh, uhm..." Not wanting to sell out his secret assistant Touma shrugged in the least nonchalant manner imaginable. "Ahaha! I had a little help, but enough of that! You should put it on, maybe." Trying anything to change subject, he paid no heed to her blush.

"W-what, here!? Now?"

"Why not? Here, let me-" She tensed as he quickly reached down and affixed the pin to her cardigan. Halfway through the motion he realized what he had done, meeting her gaze.

There was a blinding flash.

They turned to Itsuwa, but were interrupted by another flash.

"S-sorry! It just seemed like a good opportunity!" The girl was shaking out two photos, her camera stowed away again without having ever been seen. "I still need photograph's for the Amakuza's records of this event, you see!"

Before anyone could protest or recover, Index made her move. It was clear the nun had reached the end of her patience, threatening to rip Touma's newest gift from his body.

"TOOUMMAAA! We're the last ones now! We can't miss brunch, come on! I've never had a brunch before, but it sounds like a meal, so let's GO!" She dragged him through the door into the courtyard, the fastest route back to the Dining Hall. Itsuwa made to carry on after them, but paused for a moment.

"A-ah, Misaka-san... I don't really need two, so here you go. Don't worry, I already shook it!"

"A-gah!? Ah, uh, wait, hold... on." But the magician had already disappeared through the door.

Mikoto stood alone in the community room, trying to process what had just happened. She felt the weight of the brooch on her shirt, just covering Gekota that was already emblazoned there. It was much more prominent, and she warred for a second between being more embarrassed by how visible it was and how it had been placed there. Finally she rebooted, glancing down at the photograph of her and a certain spiky haired idiot which had been pressed into her hand. It was suddenly hid in the deepest pocket she had, and she set about following the group with as much grace as could be marshaled. ... _Alright, that Itsuwa's definitely not that bad._ [6]

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] As a small note, I'm assuming this St. George's Cathedral is substantially different from the one in the real world. I mean, it's hard to imagine given the alternate time-line that the Church wouldn't have expanded and changed the upper area as well as did other magical stuff. I'm also ret-coning to making it not a public place of worship, but a quasi-bureaucratic and special occasion facility on top of housing England main magical base. It just doesn't make much sense otherwise in this universe. I've already mentioned the underground complex which has been mentioned in the canon, but not in massive detail. However, I will be making up my own above ground area, and making it pretty huge. I have actually drawn up a basic map so that I have something to refer to, and to maintain consistency in my depictions later. I don't think there is anyway to attach hi-quality images to the story directly, though, otherwise I'd post it despite the grade-school quality.

[2] Some people might have expected this footnote. Others; not.

[3] Referring to the British Halloween, or the English Civil War, as taking place in the original series of Light Novels. To summarize for the forgetful, Touma rescued Floris before nearly killing them both after diving off a bridge and getting her recaptured by the same people. She was not impressed, and apparently remembers that event.

[4] This reference is a bit of a classic one. But since someone got my Metal Gear joke in the last book, I feel like this is fine.

[5] Index's system involved two piles; the ones she would later claim to be hers, and the ones she thought looked gross. One pile was much larger than the other.

[6] Some people may be wondering about Itsuwa's actions here and elsewhere. Don't worry, it'll be explained in a few chapters. I think I can justify it as in character, but I haven't given quite enough information to really piece it together yet. Although maybe some enterprising reader could figure it out... Also, what might have happened to Mikoto? I wonder. (I don't really, because I already know. But you get the idea.)

[7] This chapter was very hard to write, because really, if you had to buy Kamijou Touma a present, what the hell would you get him that wasn't generic? Seriously, we see so little of his down-time that it's basically non-existent, and if had any hobbies he's forgotten about them with his memory loss. But people would want to, for various reasons, so I had to try. Anyway, I'll see you this time next week for Chapter 2.


	30. Part 2: Chapter 2

**Hello again! Man, these have gotten long. So far, Chapters 1-4 are almost as long as Chapters 1-8 from Part 1! I plan to make them shorter in the next section, but I had so many ideas for Christmas Day that I didn't want to cut. So for now, be spoiled by long updates.**

 **Chapter 2**

11:13 A.M., December 25th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Dinning Hall

"Wait. Where's Othinus?"

Until Touma posed his question brunch had been progressing as smoothly as could be expected. Though not as bountiful as he had hoped for, he couldn't complain regarding quality. The back bacon was savoury, the buttered toast rich, and though it seemed insane to grill tomato slices even those tasted pretty great.

The issue had lain in the initial seating. A huge number of eyes fell on the boy when he finally entered the room. The tardiness of the Academy City entourage meant there was only room left on the far end of one table. Lessar was been already seated there next to the rest of her crew, patting the bench beside her like a hunter priming her trap. Scowling Floris occupied the magician's opposite side, giving Touma even more reason to hesitate.

It was fortunate Index was oblivious to all social tension in the face of promised food. She took the dangerous seat without pause and slammed her guardian down next to her on the bench's very end. It was easy for the nun to ignore the glared daggers from the girl next to her when she was salivating over the smell of food being served.

Mikoto had scampered in soon after Itsuwa, and they each took a spot across from Index and Touma respectively. Arriving just in time to be served, their shared hunger cut conversation short until he asked his question.

"Mmm? ...Mmm!" The esper struggled to swallow fast enough. "A-ah-" But Itsuwa got there first.

"She decided to stay in the room! She, she said something about... E-England not agreeing with her..." Touma nodded understanding over a bite of toast, chewing thoughtfully.

"Not everyone travels well. But isn't she going to get hungry-"

"Don't you think she's trying to escape?" He was idly cut off by the leader of New Light, elbowing into the conversation from beside Mikoto. "First thing I would try. Get myself alone, then start planning."

"You needn't worry, Bayloupe." Lessar's grin which before fixated lovingly on Touma shifted and took on a sinister edge. "She's got _other_ problems to deal with." Her chuckle was unsettling. So much so that the boy felt less reassured, and more worried. He almost had a chance to voice that fear, but not quite.

"L-Lessar-san is right! U-uh, I let some staff know, so she's had some food brought down for her! And I can tell you with certainty, t-that she is NOT trying to escape!" Itsuwa's embarrassment was clear, but that couldn't mask the pointed look she directed at Lessar. "There are, ah, m-many safeguards that the Church has put in place. Some that _I_ did not even expect..."

"...All-right then." Bayloupe turned away, interest fading. "I've been their prisoner before. I guess if they can hold me, they can hold a powerless Magic-god."

Something about it all seemed strange to Touma, but soon the lights dimmed as curtains were drawn over their windows. Somewhat startled by the turn of events, he realized all eyes were facing the head table, hitherto was unoccupied. Behind it was erected a large white screen, suddenly illuminated in a hazy light. Touma glanced to the room's rear to see the same nun who brought his and Mikoto's gift earlier was crouched behind a cart, loaded with an ancient projector. She was shuffling slides, as if checking their order.

Standing at the head table were the two unlikely hosts Orsola and Sherry. The former was blinking at a long sheet of paper while the latter stared at the assembly, threatening it with a simple riding crop. They waited together before the same microphone and stand from the Community Room until silence descended and a picture appeared onscreen.

"All-right, listen up." She struck out with her tool, causing the backdrop to ripple. "We've got a day plan set up, so follow the slides. Orsola, you ready?" Her partner's head perked up, nodding.

"Ah? Y-yes. I'll do the next part, you can go head."

"Right." For all her boldness Sherry hesitated, and though she was far away and in the dark Touma thought he saw shoulders tense. "RIGHT! It's time to start the 'Christmas Day Festive-Team-Building-Games and Exercises'!" This time with gusto she shouted out, startling her audience. "First slide!"

There was a soft click, and an image appeared on the screen. It was clearly hand-drawn and showed a bizarre version of St. George's Cathedral, dilapidated and lopsided. Happy clouds dotted the sky, drifting gargantuan snowflakes down on the scene.

"This is where we are! All activities today will be taking place within the Cathedral grounds! Next slide!"

Another click, this time revealing what looked like several logs with bumps on them, being approached by some sort of bestial apparition.

"First thing we did was have mass, lead by our Archbishop!" There was silence as the crowd absorbed that explanation.

"That makes Mass looks way more intense than I was expecting." Touma scratched his tilted head. "Was it really that dangerous?" Next to him, Index shook hers in kind.

"I don't remember there being a monster... And it's only dangerous when I get caught trying to eat the communion wafers."

"That's not a monster, that's... A-anyway! N-next! NEXT SLIDE!" Sherry sounded more panicked than angry, but bravely pushed ahead.

After a brief rustling from the projectionist, the screen changed. Now it revealed a large triangle surrounded by boxes and circles, with lines emanating in random directions.

"Is that a Christmas tree or Cape Canaveral?" Though she expected the former, Mikoto couldn't resist the quiet comment to her neighbour. "I swear that looks more like a rocket ship." Itsuwa tilted her head, perplexed.

"I don't have any idea what a rocket ship is normally like, but I hope for the sake of the crew it's not that." But Sherry was already continuing.

"Next came present opening! It was, uhm... Remember to say thank you if you want more next year! A-and next slide!"

This time there was complete silence. There were two dozen circles, each centred by a random shape, with no explanation or motion from Sherry. The crowd fidgeted, muttering among themselves.

"Are we supposed to understand that?" Touma looked about, honestly confused. "Is this part of the activity?"

Index propped her chin on her hands, squinting. "Orsola is a code expert, but this isn't like anything in the grimoires I possess... Maybe she wrote it from scratch?" The magician in question finally jumped into action, ending their misconception.

"Ah! It's my turn, right? Sorry, Sherry, uhm..." She crept closer to the microphone, still staring at her paper. "Now we are going to organize everyone present into teams. I have the list here, so please, bear with me..." As Orsola squinted in the poor light Mikoto sank down into her seat.

 _Teams? Ah, they did say "team-building" earlier... I hate team stuff. Argh... If this just like school where I end up doing everything I swear..._

Touma wasn't much more enthused. "What sort of things are we going to be doing? And why is this sounding more like work than anything else? Itsuwa, is something strange actually being planned, and we're all being tricked here?"

 _"-_ those actually numbers or is it some sort of cipher... E-eh? Ah, sorry!" She turned to him from her muttering with a blush before shaking her head and facing back away. "I-I don't think so! I remember people saying it was meant to be fun and relaxing..."

Orsola had already established three groups, calling out names and assigning team numbers. From the way Sherry was pointing at each circle on the screen in sequence, Touma decided they probably represented the different teams. The math he was quickly doing supported that view: there must have been just under 100 people present after all, since group 1 was granted four members, as was group 2.

So far there was an even division by affiliation: At least 1 member of the Amakusa and Roman Catholic groups were present in each group, the remaining space filled by Anglican members. That split, Touma realized, reflected the overall statistics rather well. Half the people present wore clearly non-Anglican uniforms, at least.

He knew from experience there were more members of the Agnese forces and Amakusa-Style Remix of Church than this, and assumed there were more than 50 magicians in the whole Anglican church, if not St. George's itself. _I wonder if this bunch was hand-picked for some reason? Or was it just random?_ "Hmmm." Touma leaned back in his seat. "Well, I guess we just wait until they explain more. Do you know what teams we'll be on?"

Every girl other within a 10 foot radius stiffened. They all turned to Itsuwa in unison, who indicated no with a stiff shake of her head. Suddenly Orsola's procedure took on a whole new significance. A rapid bout of calculations spread through their minds.

 _...So, less than 5% odds we'll be on the same team? ...Eh._ Mikoto got there first, eyes closed and finger tapping as she awaited her name. _N-not that I care all that much, but..._

"This is New Light's chance!" Lessar's fists slammed down onto the oak tabletop, slapping cutlery aside. "Ow! But yes! I know it! My time has come!"

"Chance? Chance for what?" Touma turned toward Lessar but his question went unheeded, for Mikoto quickly shouted over him.

"No way, Missy! It's just a bunch of silly games, they don't actually **mean** anything!" She blushed, recalling their private conversation last night and realizing what stance she appeared to be defending. "NOT t-that I care anyway!" But Lessar immediately saw her words for the challenge they were, stabbing a finger at her enemy.

"Oh yeah!? How about if MY team wins, **you** have to back off!" Mikoto's red deepened.

"B-back off!? I-I-I don't know what you're-"

"Yes you do! And if YOUR team wins, I'll do the same!"

"Wha!?" _She's staking everything on this!? And without even knowing who her teammates will be!?_

The challenge hung in the air. Blushing furiously, Mikoto felt trapped by the confused looks around her. Finally she snapped. "F-FINE! Whatever! I-It's not like I have to worry about losing!" _CRAP CRAP CRAP! W-WHAT IF I LO- NO, Damn it, I-I-I-I don't even care!_

"What's fine? Losing what now?" Touma turned back to Mikoto, but Lessar overpowered him, rising in her seat.

"Excellent! This will decide his fate!"

" _What's_ being decided!? And why am I feeling this wave of dread!? Can someone please tell me-"

" **SHUT IT! -** Idiot!" The addendum came from Mikoto alone, but otherwise the two girls were in perfect unison.

Touma shrank down in his seat, gulping. _Guess not._

Mikoto and Lessar glared daggers at each other for a moment before noticing that group formation had stopped. All eyes were on them as they sat down in varying degrees of embarrassment.

Finally Orsola worked up the nerve to continue, and relatively soon there were only 8 groups left. From their end of the table Floris was the first to be called, but as the last member of her particular team. She glared at Touma for his sigh of relief at avoiding a dangerous fate. The other members of New Light were dealt with in the next two groups, leaving just Lessar.

"And in group 20..." Orsolo peered hard at her script. "Lessar *kzzrtch* of New Light." She peered at the microphone, tapping it, before shrugging.

"Yes! 3 open spaces, 3 chances!" She stuck out her tongue at Mikoto, who refused to acknowledge the provocation. Each leaned away in their seats, but listened closely.

"...Misaka Mikoto of Academy City." Two heads slammed into the same table.

"God _damn-it!_ " This time she reacted, again in concert with Lessar. _S-still, this isn't really that a bad thing, r-right? Though it would have been nice to shut her up..._ "I guess that bet is-"

"Just shut up, esper! We'll deal with this later."

"...*kzrtch* Itsuwa of...?" Orsola tapped her microphone again, creating more static. " *kZZZrtch* Itsuwa of the Amakusa Church! I'm sorry, this machine appears to be acting strangely..." As the hostess investigated the contraption sparking before her, Mikoto spirits rallied even as he head lay beside her plate.

 _Well, at least_ _ **that**_ _one's nice enough. And you know..._ Her thoughts trailed off as she twisted her neck to look subtly at a certain spiky haired idiot.

"L-let's just move on!" Orsola abandoned her futile prodding of the microphone, fumbling for her list on the table. "T-the final member..."

... _Maybe there's still a way to salvage this experience._ Mikoto peered around and caught the eye of her 'teammate'.

"...of Group 20..."

Lessar met the gaze. Both realized there was still one slot left on their team.

"...Is..."

Their eyes narrowed.

!~~~~~~~~!

"...Index Librorum Prohibitorum of the Anglican Church."

"...Mmmph?" The nun in question startled upright, mouth full of cinnamon bun. She was already digging into her Christmas loot, lost to her surroundings. "What? What about me? What did I do?"

"D-don't worry, Index!" Itsuwa patted the confused girl on the hand from across the table back. "You didn't do anything wrong. ...At least, I don't think you did..."

Lessar floundered in her seat, momentarily vanquished. Mikoto was similarly despondent, her last hope gone. _DAMN IT! I should have realized they wouldn't put both non-magicians on the same team! Well..._ The esper surveyed her team again. _This is going to be rough. 2 airheads and a firecracker. Just great._ She sighed for a moment. _Okay, that's unfair to at least one of them. But still!_

Orsola had continued on. "...of Group 21 is Kamijou Touma!"

"So close!?" Three girls exclaimed as one.

 _Wait, three voices? Who else...?_ Mikoto was certain she heard a voice other than her and Lessar, but looking about saw no obvious culprit.

"Group 21, huh? Touma rubbed his head thoughtfully. "Okay then. I wonder who my teammates are..."

"Also in Group 21... Agata of the Agnese Forces!"

"Agata... Wait a minute." Touma half-stood from the bench, looking around. He caught distant sight of a small hand in the air. A girl with brown hair and round spectacles was waving shyly at him from afar. "Ah... Right, I remember her from that Ice Ship thing." He waved back, plopping down again. _Was I fighting with her or against her? I think she was steering something..._

 _"_ Third is... Uragami of the Amakusa Church!"

"That one rings a bell too..." _Is she that girl with the sword? For some reason I thought that was Itsuwa, though._ [1] At a different location a girl perked up. Her black ponytail whipped around as she pivoted, quickly catching Touma's eye. When he waved awkwardly, he felt her gaze harden. And then shift into a malicious grin. _C-crap! Am I on bad terms with her somehow!?_

"And the last member of Group 21... is Othinus of... Ah... Something or other, I suppose!"

Mikoto and Itsuwa each gave a little start, glancing at each other. Lessar only chuckled cruelly, already perking up.

"Of course it'd be Othinus." Touma leaned forward with a sigh. _Just because I'm on vacation doesn't mean I get to stop being her jailer. I wonder how she's even going to be able to compete at her size..._

The last remaining teams were decided with little fanfare. It seemed the assembly was not quite done, for Sherry took the stand yet again.

"All right! Remember those teams! You need all four members to participate; no exceptions! Now!" She jabbed the half-forgotten screen with her crop, this time nearly knocking it over. "We'll go over how this will work!" She paused. "Orsola! Explain how this works! Get back over here, you're not done, remember!?"

"Ah! Sorry, I have the explanation here!" She coughed slightly before leaning over to share the microphone with Sherry. "Right. So, there will be a number of activities, where the various teams will compete for points! The first placing team gets 5 points, second place 4, third just 3 and so on! The team with the most points overall after every event wins! Sherry and I are the judges and rule arbiters! By the way, magic and, I suppose, other strange abilities..." She glanced awkwardly at Mikoto, who hid a blush. "Are completely not allowed! Except Kamijou-kun, obviously, because he can't turn his off, and that's just not his fault."

"Really? I was hoping this was going to be like the Daihaseisai." [2] Mikoto's interest fell from moderate heights, but it was still not as low as Index's.

"This sounds like so much work! Touma, do we have to?"

"Index, we are guests here if you've forgotten! Besides, contests can be..." He glanced over at Mikoto. "Aah... F-fun? I guess?" Index pulled a face at that, but held back harsher criticism.

Orsola had flipped her sheet over, now reading the back. "Oh! I forgot about this part. The members on the winning team get a prize! ...A 1000 pound shopping trip to _Westfield London_!?"

The room erupted in excited chatter: the lacklustre attitude of most participants had been completely reversed.

"Westfield what? Is that good?" Touma looked at those around him for confirmation, finding it in their many intense expressions.

"Hell yeah it is!" Lessar had reacted first. "Now I REALLY want to win!"

"Doesn't it even have that very pricey section?" Itsuwa was even fired up. "I think it was called the Village or something? I never get to shop there..."

"I don't think the place was built last time I visited London, so I've never heard of it. It sounds like its some sort of..." Mikoto pondered their statements, coming to an awful conclusion. "Wait, is it-!"

" **ANOTHER MALL**!?" Touma exploded to his feet, upsetting nearby dishes. "Are you serious!? What is it with my life and malls!? What catastrophe is going to happen there!?" _I really don't want to win now! But that IS a lot of money, I think... G-ggh, no, I must not let greed get the best of my common sense! I can't! Or else I'll suffer horribly, I just know it!_

In his focus he was ignoring the commotion onstage. Orsola was reading over the prize again, disbelief clear.

"If we can afford something like this-! W-why can't I get those copy books I've been-" She was quickly butted aside her partner.

"Let's just get this over with! Look, here are the various activities!" Another series of poorly drawn images glowed upon the screen.

The first picture showed a square being struck with some sort of arrow.

"Right now! Ice-breaking game! Introduce yourself to you team and come up with a team name! No points are awarded for this stage, but you need a team name to compete!"

The second looked something like instructions for an origami bird.

"Noon! Present wrapping competition! Style and form are important!

Third showed more question marks, this time around the another poor rendition of the Church.

"12:30! Scavenger hunt around the Cathedral! First team to solve the clues wins!"

Fourth was a row of concentric circles with random jutting out bits: one was labeled with a check-mark, the rest with slashed x's.

"1:30! Snowman building competition! Creativity and technique are-"

"Come on, now!" Lessar finally had enough with the proceedings, rising up in disbelief. "How are those even snowmen!? At least the other drawings looked a little like their topic! And are we seriously expected to build SNOWMEN!? I'm not a kid, you know!"

Thrown off her stride, Sherry balked for only a second.

"I-It's an aerial perspective, all-right!? You've no appreciation for art! That attitude won't help you win, Lessar! And SIT down unless you want to feel my crop somewhere exposed!" The threat seemed to work. She sat back down in a huff, not at all placated.

"Who even LOOKS at snowmen like that..." The petite magician crossed her arms in a pout. For the first time, Mikoto agreed with her.

 _...But I'm not going to say it out loud._

"Anyway! Next slide, projectionist! We're on a schedule here, a schedule I'm currently explaining!"

Up next was a random assortment of squiggles and dots, only just recognizable as question marks.

"2:00! Guess the content of presents wrapped by other teams by their shape! Closest team wins! I wanted to call it Santa's Secret Stash, but was not allowed to! ...Ah..." Sherry froze. "I didn't mean to say that! MOVING ON!"

The follow-up was just a random series of objects: some round, some square, all mixed up in a big circle. Though many appeared to be on fire, there wasn't a common theme otherwise.

"2:30! From this event on only the top six teams will compete, with the last place team knocked out each time! The event is Christmas baking: create the most festive and tasty food you can! Losing teams get to eat the products after judging, so you won't have to mope around!"

Sherry left no time for further criticisms, launching red-faced into the next activity before the slide could change.

"3:00! Curling! Slide stones and knock out your opponents! 3:30! Obstacle course and maze in underground training area! **4:00-** " Sherry tried to shout over the sound of the projector falling over across the room, yet the audience turned around regardless. The machine's distraught operator was doing her best to pick it up but was rapidly falling into a panic

"M-Miss Cromwell! I can't keep up, please-"

"Screw the slides! Now where was I..." She snapped her fingers, powering forth. "Ah! 4:00! An hour long 4 way snowball fight with capture the flag in the courtyard! The number of points scored in this round is added to your final total! 5:00! Christmas Tree decorating! This is the final event, with only the top three teams competing! Afterwards will be some time to rest: supper is served at 6:00!" It was almost over, the audience still reeling from her verbal assault. "All-right you ungrateful louts, we start now! Get into your teams!"

Amidst the rapid shuffling of the attendees, the two managers stepped down from the stage taking the microphone and screen with them. The former was battery operated, and neither had remembered to turn it off. So their voices carried out one last time as they exited the hall.

"I thought your slides were very good." Orsola was patting her friend on the shoulder who only shrugged.

"I don't need ...Ah, Thank you. I'm good at sculpting, but I suppose my drawing **could** use some extra practice. N-not that I'm listening the criticism of those plebeians, anyway..." [3]

The benches continued to clatter as groups formed. Touma stood up and stretched.

"Well, I guess I've got to go. You girls are all lucky, being in a group where you... know every... one?" They didn't look particularly pleased with their luck, with only Itsuwa managing a smile. "Aha, I guess that prize at least is some motivation, right?"

Mikoto leaned back a ways, doing a bit of basic math. "Yeah, that's over 100000 yen. [4] It's quite a bit: it'll be nice to actually do some shopping in a mall for once." Though she chuckled awkwardly, Touma raised an eyebrow.

"You seem pretty confident."

She blushed, glancing down to fiddle with her nails. "Eheh... Ah, well, I mean, magicians aren't likely to be familiar with my powers, is all. I have a bit of an advantage."

"I think most of them have heard about you by now..." He scratched his head. "And though I haven't seen any really strong magician's here, I'm sure at least some of these people are pretty powerful. This isn't going to be like a school test or something."

Mikoto didn't appreciate the warning. "What's that supposed to mean, exactly!? I'm a level 5, or have you forgotten!? I can handle myself!" She had to fight to keep her powers from demonstrating more than just a spark: even so the boy blanched. However, Mikoto soon found an unlikely ally as Lessar slammed her fists onto the table.

"Ow! Damn fork." She flung the offending cutlery aside. "Anyway, what do you mean, Kamijou, about "really strong"!? I'm one of the most powerful magicians you know! Don't think you can take me lightly!" Touma was not expecting a two pronged attack. He wavered back and forth between the girls, unsure who was the bigger threat to his person.

"Ahah, you see-"

"Are YOU thinking YOU'RE any better off!?" Mikoto was now arched over the table, shaking a fist.

"That's not-"

"I bet you think you've got this in the bag!?" Lessar's tail was lashing out now, whipping against the floor angrily.

"I really don't-"

"How about we have a bet!? If our team beats yours, you have to... A-ah..." Here Mikoto faltered, blushing. Touma saw his window of opportunity.

"Say, looks like-"

"You have to go on a date with me!" Lessar shouted, eyes intense.

" **WHAT!?** " Mikoto turned on her one-time ally, face red. The magician shrugged.

"Fine, with all of us. One at a time, of course. We can all take our turns with lover boy."

"THAT'S..." _I... I can't... But... didn't I basically do this... before...?_ She couldn't find the words to go on. Touma was only a little more composed than the esper, thinking back to that same Punishment Game.

"L-lessar, now hold on, let's not make threats we can't take back!" _These deals always end up dangerous to my health: why is violence becoming a theme today!?_

"Ah! W-wait!" Itsuwa stood up now, knocking the table forward several inches. It butted into Index, who was still trying to eat leftovers. Everyone was now staring at the Amakusa magician, and her energy slacked. However, she rallied as best she was able, head down and shoulders twitching. "S-so, Kamijou-kun, I guess since we'll be c-c-competing against each other..."

 _Finally, someone I can reason with._ "Don't worry, it's just a bunch of games. It's about the fun, right?"

"That's good..." Itsuwa sighed, tension draining. "I would hate for you to be upset... when you lose." Though she still faced down, Touma could still feel the sudden fire in her eyes. She was a woman on a mission now, white-knuckled in her intensity.

"W-whwhaa? Y-you too, Ituswa!? I haven't even AGREED yet-"

"So you're going to, then!? GOOD! Shouldn't you go over to your loser team now?" Lessar seemed to feel that the matter was decided. Touma, less so.

"Wait, but, so, w-what do I get when my team wins?"

"'When'!? You idiot, and you call ME confident!? The nerve!" Mikoto was desperate to push her team's side of the bargain of her mind. "So, ah... W-what would you even want, if you won!? Don't be a pervert, now, I know you!"

"That's so unfair! I was most definitely not thinking about anything untoward!" _Okay, costume-themed cafe service is out the window. I knew it would be._ "Ahm... how about..." He snapped his fingers. "I got it! You girls have to... U-uhm... H-how about you each just have owe me a favour or something?" _Wait, that means I agree, right? Well_... He thought about his opponents, and could hardly imagine a more ineffective team as far as personalities went. "Yeah... okay. It's a bet. I'm confident I'll win."

"We'll see about that. You remember you lost the last bet we made!" The esper was surprised at how fired up she was. _At least I feel more excited about these games now, and the t-terms aren't ALL bad. Though I want Lessar as far from his as I can put her... She's just a bad influence, is all!_

"Right. Then I'll see you all later." _Now, off to see why that Oragami or Urahara or whatever hates me._ [5] "Such misfortune..."

Touma shuffled away to an uncertain fate, leaving Group 20 already assembled at their end of the table. Lessar slid over, bored now that her intended paramour was gone. Mikoto finally saw a chance to ask Itsuwa the question weighing on her mind.

"So why is everything all... you know, normal? Natural?"

"Pardon me?"

"I mean, without Magic, or whatever? Most of this setup seems pretty technological so far; this contest, too." Itsuwa shrugged, a little uncertain of the question.

"Despite not being allowed to use much technology by treating in our magic, we have to occasionally just to get by in the world. So, it's better to be familiar with it. Besides, sometimes even magicians want downtime."

"What, you get tired of magic? Seriously!? If could use magic, I'd be doing it all the time! It just sounds so convenient." Mikoto realized she was still a little hungry, looking around for a few extra calories.

"M-magic's not really like that. Uhm..." The magician struggled for a parallel while Mikoto reached for the bowl of buns that Index was busy demolishing. It was just too far away, and the nun shuffled it away further upon noticing the threat. "A-aha! Ah, it's just because it's new to you. I mean, it's not like you use your powers for simple things, right?"

The esper meanwhile had manipulated a pair of forks. One bopped Index on the head, forcing her to turn in surprise: the other jabbed one of the few remaining buns and ferried it over to the girl, allowing her to daintily take a bite. It was only then she noticed Itsuwa staring at her. "Mmm?" She swallowed. "Mwhat? No, I use them all the time. Really handy."

"I-I see. Academy City is very... Ah... Efficiency minded."

"Hey! Short-hair, that's mean!" Index was clearly put out, but just as quickly forgot the slight, returning to her snacking.

"Anyway, all the games and activities today seem so... **Normal.** I figured they would be more magical. Like, with enchanted things and arenas and stuff, to make them more inter... Aaha, to make them more exciting!" Mikoto thought she handled that near gaff somewhat diplomatically, but Itsuwa's downcast expression changed that perception.

"We thought about that. But then... It would be hard for Kamijou-kun to play..." The two glanced over at the boy, who even now was cowering as one of his partners berated him.

"Oh. Yeah, his hand." Mikoto paused for a second, before leaning over in a low whisper. "Say, speaking of... Isn't his fourth member... Othinus is absolutely not going to join in, is she?"

"I d-don't think she'll make it up, no. I almost feel sorry for her." Itsuwa thought for a moment. "Well, not quite almost. But more than I thought I would."

"Will he be disqualified right away? That'll make this contest a little pointless." _And easy. I still don't know if I really even want to win, if that means Lessar gets him to herself._

"I-I don't know. Miss Cromwell did say that all four members need to compete, without exceptions."

The two dwelt on the problem a moment. Finally, Mikoto spoke again, wanting to dispel the silence.

"Well, what do we do now?"

"Maybe think of a team name. You know, like we have to?" Lessar plopped down heavily into Touma's vacated space. "Do you lot even want to win?"

"Win what?" Index finally finished off the bowl of buns, and was now raring for action. "Are we playing a game?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"P-p-please, Uragami-san, I'm really sorry about-"

"You ruined it! Completely ruined it! This sword has been in my family for 6 generations, and you just threw industrial oil on it like it was a frying pan!" [6] She waved the offending article under his nose in a fighting stance, ponytail bobbing for her energy. "It's never had the same edge since, no matter where I go to get it repaired!"

"I-it looks plenty sharp to me! And you don't need to test that out **on** me, I promise!"

"Please, Uragami-san, you can't kill him yet!" Agata was doing her level best to act as intermediary, but couldn't bring herself to jump between them. "W-we're already down a member, and I'd really like to win that shopping trip!"

"T-THAT'S your reason!? What about our shared humanity!?" Even if he was unimpressed, Touma latched onto a slim hope. "Don't you want a shopping trip too, Urag-Grk!?" The blade was now pressed up to his neck, making further noises unwise.

"No! I want my blade fixed! Unless there's a metallurgist or weapons-repair shop in there, I'm not interested!"

"Why do you need a swordsmith? And why are you threatening Kamijou? "

The woman's cool voice cut through the bickering, and all three turned to face the newcomer. Despite her statuesque and saintlike demeanour, there was something embarrassed in the way Kanzaki Kaori stared down Uragami. Perhaps it was because a certain spiky haired idiot was present. Either way, she cut an imposing figure.

"A-ah, Priestess! I-I'm sorry, I let my anger get the better of me." Uragami lowered her weapon, her anger only just held in check.

"Oh! Hello, Kanzaki!" Now reasonably sure he would remain unsliced, Touma took a second to smile cheerily at his friend. "Merry Christmas! Thank yo-!"

He felt a different sword at his throat, this one more familiar. "...Because threatening him is my job." Touma forced a smile.

"...and here I thought maybe you had forgiven and forgotten about that fall from the sky-fortress..." [7]

Her expression made clear the opposite. But she sighed, and withdrew her blade faster than could be seen.

"I've done neither. I'm still angry. But..." She sighed, bearing the faintest of blushes. "You were right. And that's behind us now. So." She coughed, awkwardly. The boy shrugged.

"Well, thank you for the gift, anyway! Itsuwa said you helped, so... Thank you!"

"Ah... We're... I'm glad you enjoyed it. I wish I had found the time to open my gift from you, but I'm still busy. I just dropped by the Cathedral for some supplies, and thought I would visit you." Kanzaki's eyes widened, realizing she hadn't mentioned seeing anyone else. Though Uragami rolled her eyes, well aware of her leader's true feeling for her target, Touma smiled all the wider.

"Well, I'm glad you did! I haven't seen you since..." _On second thought, I won't bring that up again. "_ Y-You'll be around later, then?"

"Yes. For supper, when my wards show up." She glanced aside, brushing a few stray strands of hair away. Suddenly she turned back. "Ah! So, what did I interrupt? Uragami, why do you have a grudge? I don't remember you saying anything before."

"I'm sorry, Priestess, but I... Ah, it was hard to mention it to you. For. You know. Reasons." The two girls shared a brief look, before the elder nodded.

"O-oh. Well, what is it then? Now is as good a time as any."

"Back during our conflict with the Roman Catholic church, Kamijou here permanently damaged my sword."

Touma suddenly found his collar wrenched away, neck and head whip-lashing along after it. His face was brought within inches to the saint's fiery gaze.

"Kamijou Touma. Never damage a woman's sword. That is without honour. Do you understand?"

"WWH-Wha-Is that some sort of metaphor as well or just the literal thing you mean!? Because I get the latter-AGWWAGAHGAGH-" _It's VERY hard to answer when I'm being shaken all back and forth like a piston Kanzaki!_

"IDIOT!" She finally stopped his torment, but didn't release him. "You have to take responsibility. You're just lucky I know someone who can fix this problem."

"...T-the one you just gave my spine...?" He was fortunate Kanzaki chose to ignore that, instead addressing her subordinate within the Amakusa Church.

"I happen to know a very good sword-smith who works on my Shichiten Shichitou, and who can almost certainly repair your blade. But it won't be cheap."

"How much? Money is no object, mainly because he's paying." Touma groaned limply at Uragami's boast.

"Hard to say, but I'd guess around 800 pounds, maybe more." Now he stiffened like a board, struggling to regain his feet.

"Though I don't know the exchange rate, I feel like that's probably more in yen than I've ever owned! I'm a high school student living with a bottomless garbage disposal unit, where am I-" A sharp gesture cut him off. Kanzaki continued.

"I understand this contest going on has a 1000 pound prize shopping trip? Kamijou-kun, if you... t-take me on this trip and help me do some shopping with that, I'll pay for this procedure."

"All right! Sure! As long as I don't get stabbed or shaken any more!" His relief was palpable until he thought things through. _Wait a minute. Whether I win or lose, I have to accompany at least one terrifying girl on ANOTHER shopping trip and/or date, and get nothing to show for it._ "...Such misfortune..."

"W-well! That's settled then!" Agata clapped her hands awkwardly. "I'd really like to get things going, now! So, ah, Kamijou-san, do you know where Othinus is? And is she going to try to end the world or something, because I'll admit I'm just a little worried."

"No, she's powerless and wouldn't do that now anyway, it's fine." He shrugged his shoulder, loosening the tension. "I think I heard she was in her room still. We should go down and talk to her."

"A-are you sure that's wise? I mean, she might have a good reason-"

"Eh, she probably does." He nodded absently, but headed to the door anyways. "Still, so do we. At least, I do: I don't want to die." He didn't check behind him, but Agata first and soon Urgami followed closely behind.

He led them down the flights of stairs to her quarters, stone walls cool to the touch despite the torch-glow. Soon they arrived, Touma patiently knocking on the door he remembered being shown.

There was no response. He knocked again, louder this time.

"Are you sure this is the place? Or did you get us lost down here?" Uragami was peering down the hall, back and forth. "I mean, my room's not down here, so I have no idea. I'm not anxious or anything."

"I'm sure!" _Mostly._ "Othi-chan? Are you okay?" There was no response. "I'm coming in-"

"No you're not." There was no mistaking her voice, but Touma could immediately tell there was a substantial problem. "Not if you want to live."

"Ah, Othi-chan, why do I get the feeling something is bothering you?"

"Because not even you can be as stupid as you look." Her tone wasn't exactly angry, but there was a despondency the boy felt all to familiar with. "And stop calling me that."

"That's really not nice." He scratched his head. _And I can't understand what could make her sound like that again after everything else we've been through..._ "Anyway, you don't sound sick, and I doubt there are many viruses that'd know how to deal with your fairy body anyway."

"F-fairy?" Agata finally piped up. "I thought she's a magic-god."

"Was, Agata." Uragami cracked her neck, looking thoroughly bored. "Part of her punishment after losing was being shrunk down or something. Didn't you read the report? [8] Whatever, I'm coming in-"

"Did you not hear me, whoever the Hell you are!?" Othinus' ire had finally been raised, but Uragami could care less.

"Oh, quit boasting, I bet this door isn't even locked: you're too short to reach the handle. Did you just get stuck inside?" The magician laughed haughtily. "Seriously, you must be as powerless as-" She swung the door open, heedless of how close Othinus might be behind it. The girl in question jumped back to evade it, and all three laid eyes upon the Magic God. "A pussy... c-cat?"

At the foot of the nearest bed, with dead-pan expression and empty eyes, stood Othinus in her neko-costume.

A second passed.

Then another.

Touma finally broke the silence.

"Othinus, why are you still..." He met her gaze fully and understanding somehow clicked. "Oh. I think I get it now."

"...Just shut up, Kamijou."

"Kamijou-san, why is the Magic-God cosplaying as a cat?" Agata's wide-eyed question demanded some sort of response. Othinus sighed a bottomless sigh, and with the reluctant magnanimity only a tortured God could muster began to explain.

!~~~~~~~~!

Flashback to previous night: 9:14 P.M., December 24th: London: St. George's Cathedral

Mikoto arched an eyebrow, noting that yet another person involved with the church didn't seem to have her own room within the Cathedral. But she said nothing, and only waved vaguely back in response to Touma's gesture as he was lead away.

Though curious, there was nothing more for her to do about it for now. So she set to unpacking her clothes, picking out pajamas and a suitable outfit for the next day. Index had given up dragging her suitcase from where Touma left it, balking at its weight. So it merely sat beside the door while she lay in bed, fluffing her pillow with unexpected vigor. Lessar was sunk into a sullen depression, muttering as she combed her hair with a pocket mirror.

The room was surprisingly quiet, a fact made more poignant when the silence was broken.

A bone-chilling wail pierced the night. It was high and feminine, but full of utter dread. [9]

And it came from the adjoining bathroom.

It trailed off, and the room returned to silence.

"A-ah...?" Mikoto pivoted shakily to look at Index, whose face blanched white in surprise. "Is s-she... this isn't normal for her, is it?" The nun shook her head, no words able to be spoken.

"Nothing... 'Normal'... Makes a noise like **that**." Lessar was just as shaken, and with her two roommates turned to face the bathroom door in horror. Rushing water from the sink still flowed, but after that horrifying scream nothing else had sounded.

"D-does someone want to trade beds with me?" Index's voice was masked by bundled sheets, face hidden in their folds. "I don't like this spot any more..."

"That's not going to fix anything!" Mikoto's harsh whisper was hardly any louder. "I mean, we all still need to use that washroom, right!?"

"If you're so worried, go, I-I don't know, knock or something!" Lessar returned to combing her hair, back to the door, but her hands were unsteady.

"I'm not going to! I barely know her! Index, you do it!"

"M-me!? N-No! This is the sort of thing Touma deals with!" At that admission the level 5 almost chuckled, imagining the likeliest outcome of his intervention.

 _He'd try to be careful or something and then just fall through the door anyway, and she'd probably be undressing or something and then I'd have to shock him for being a pervert._ Though amusing, that line of thought left Mikoto very few options. Finally she gulped, fleeting comfort vanished. "S-still. I guess some... **Someone** has to do... S-something."

"She's not that scary, esper." Mikoto finally had enough of Lessar's barbs, roundly quickly on her antagonist.

"Says the girl using her hand mirror to keep an eye on that door! You're just waiting to see if you need to run away!"

"It's called reconnaissance!" Lessar snapped the tool shut, annoyed at being discovered. "I don't see **you** doing anything!"

"Fine! Just watch." Mikoto narrowed her eyes, relying briefly on her electromagnetic senses. The latch to the bathroom was iron, just as she suspected. It was the work of a moment to unlatch the door. It took just that moment for Mikoto to realize what she had done and stop short.

But it was too late. The weight of the door carried it open, and it swung solemnly outwards. All three, despite their fears, leaned in to get a better view.

Standing on the edge of the sink, staring into the mirror, was disguised Othinus. Her eyes were empty, her stance rigid. She made no sign she noticed the open door. Mikoto cleared her throat.

"...Is she-"

"Shh!" Index raised a finger to her lips, eyes wide. "She's saying something!" At that the nun leaned in as close as she dared; in seconds, Lessar and Mikoto crept up to the door-frame to join her.

Sure enough, the Magic-God's lips were moving, just barely visible to Mikoto in the mirror.

"...could I not have checked? I just put it on. I didn't even consider..." She seemed to be staring at her costume, pulling at it listlessly.

Suddenly Index gasped, throwing her small hands to her lips. "A-ah! That costume! When did... There was more magic to it than that!?"

"I-Index? What is it? I don't get it...!"

All three jumped as Othinus kicked the sink's faucet. It spun near a full circle, water spraying in a wet arc. The tiny girl tightening her hands into fists before raising them to the heavens.

"Those ~~~~~~~ Anglican ~~~~~~~s... They tricked me. THEY TRICKED ME!" She spun like a dreidel, whipping an accusing finger at Index. "YOU! DID YOU KNOW!? IF YOU KNEW-"

"E-eee!" The girl dove under the covers completely, a misshapen lump. "I didn't, I DIDN'T! I didn't even look that closely-AAH! AAAAAHH!"

Othinus somehow cleared the distance to Index's bed and was now attempting to wring Index's neck with her own sheets. "Those ~~~~~~~s! I'll take it out on YOU!"

Mikoto and Lessar were at complete loss. They simply staggered back from the violence, watching Index trying to hide in an entirely improbable game of cat and mouse. The Magic-God finally got her hands around her prey as Itsuwa returned, aghast at the room's transformation.

"T-there **ARE** ghosts here!? And why is a cat trying to strangle it!? ...Is that Othinus!? W-what is even going on?"

Her curiosity was rewarded with flying tackle as Othinus rammed at full speed into her chest. This not only knocked Itsuwa to the floor, but also launched the Magic-God back across the room. She slapped limply into the Rec centre's television, sliding to the floor. None of this seemed to slow her down, for in an instant she was on her feet and riding the back of the couch she had soared over, screeching a challenge to the heavens. She pulled at her false skin, trying and failing to rip clumps out of the artificial fur.

"The Anglicans hid a second spell in this costume! NOW I CAN'T TAKE THE DAMN THING OFF!"

!~~~~~~~~!

Back to the Present: 11:47 A.M., December 25th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Dinning Hall

"So? Any of you have a problem?" If Othinus was not particularly pleased at having to share her story, she was positively seething at the looks she was getting afterwards. Agata was slowest to avert her eyes, becoming the scapegoat for the group.

"N-no! **No.** " She backed up to the door, looking for something to hide behind. "Not at all!" Yet she could not break eye contact.

"If you don't want one... stop staring."

Agata dove for the nearest cover. "I'M SORRY!" Touma felt himself nearly toppled by the girl clinging to his jacket. Suddenly finding himself in the thick of things, he raised his hands in supplication to the diminutive figure of rage before him.

"Now, look, Othineko- **I MEAN,** O-Othi-chan, I'm sure they have a good reason-" The Magic-God's leapt up to his collar, dangling from his front as Agata hung from the back.

"Their REASON is to keep tabs on me!" Her tiny fist threatened seriously cute violence on Touma's body. "Not only am I still a potential threat in their eyes, but I've got a lot of information they don't want getting out. When I'm in Academy City, I guess they're willing to leave it with the science side, but here they have taken... extra precautions."

"I see..." The boy thought for a minute, when inspiration struck. "Ah! Imagine Breaker! If I just touch it-"

"Don't bother. They'll just make me wear something more humiliating or find some other way to torture me. The Anglican's are ~~~~~~~s. Anyway, in the end, I don't need to succumb to their petty insults." Mustering what dignity she could, Othinus climbed down from her perch. "Index backed up my analysis: It will come off again when I leave England's magical purview and cross the channel. Until our flight to Japan I'll just stay in my room, thanks."

"A-Ah... Othi-chan-"

"Why the Hell are you still here!?"

"Well..."

!~~~~~~~~!

"Kamijou Touma."

"...Y-yes?"

"I put you through a million billion Hells."

"...I remember..." _Kind of._

"I tried everything I could to mentally break you."

"You sure-"

"I tortured you, tormented you, and finally relied on you to make things right." Her tirade paused.

"...So... You'll-"

"If it WASN'T for all that, you would be dead just for asking such a favour."

"E... Eh..."

"As it is..." She looked up into his puppy dog eyes. "...You REALLY need to win?"

He nodded as innocently as he could. She felt her resolve teeter and finally crumble to dust.

"...Me-damn it. Fine. Let's go. Guh-H-HEY!?" She hadn't expected to be pulled up into a tight embrace.

"YYYYEEESS! **THANK** YOU, Othi-chan! Now I won't get stabbed **and** I have a chance to avoid several awkward experiences!"

"P-PUT ME DOWN OR THE DEAL'S OFF! KAMMMIIIJJJOOUUUU-"

He could not hear as he skipped out the room and down the hall, air whipping his already messy hair.

Uragami quickly gave chase, her scabbard scraping along the wall. "You better hurry! It's almost noon!"

"Wait! WAIT!" Agata stumbled along in the rear. "We still need a team name! And I don't know the way back up from here, wait for meeeeeeee...!" [10]

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] Not familiar? Apparently, this is the same girl that people thought Itsuwa was meant to be, but ended up being a different character. I forget the whole story, but the wiki has more.

[2] The Daihaseisai, if you remember, is that sporting event where espers from different school competed to prove the success of individual programs.

[3] Sherry Cromwell, believe it not, is known for her love of sculpting! I'm expanding that to a desire for art, and pretending that she's a one trick pony, and not that great at anything else. She needs more character.

[4] I know the real exchange rate is significantly different. I'm assuming that in A Certain Universe, the yen is worth more due to the influence of Academy City, nearly double it's current value. I might have referenced this in the previous book: I forget.

[5] Gotta reference that odd mistake somewhere! And this time, I DID mean to put that name, and spell it that way.

[6] Remember that this was the bizarre and likely impossible way Touma stopped and defeated Uragami way back in time. I figure, since it was basically impossible then anyway, I might as well make the effects long-lasting too. Sure!

[7] New Testament Book Volume 10, Chapter 4: Touma versus the four overpowered sword people. He forced her into helping him by abusing her innate desire to save people. She was not impressed.

[8] She's wrong here, by the way. I'm just using that plot point to make up a likely story the world powers would have used: it makes them look better if they were the ones to proactively do it, rather than the transformation just being a random consequence of an earlier spell.

[9] A scream which, across the Cathedral, inspired fear in a certain spiky haired boy...

[10] Any guesses on team names for the two major teams? I'm totally not asking because I don't like any of my ideas and am fishing for something to throw in to fill temporary placeholders, _really_. Bonus points if your ideas are (a) funny, (b) reference the characters in some way, and (c) exist in the public domain so I can borrow them shamelessly, giving credit where it's due. Anyway, see you next Friday!


	31. Part 2: Chapter 3

**Hey again. We're back again with another Friday update (Or so I hope: this part is being written on Monday). Thank you to those few who gave suggestions (whether in review or PM). It was a bit of a decision, but in the end I opted to go with one of my ideas and one of those suggested. (with a moderate modification based on a story detail I had already worked in. Amazing how that happens!) So again, thanks for the ideas. I actually was a little annoyed with the issue, as I wrote myself into a corner over a planned joke many chapters ahead. Despite it being awkward, I really wanted to incorporate team names. Let that be a lesson: over planning can sometimes be a problem, not a solution. I'm still not sure I'm happy with the idea, as the humour seems forced at times. But whatever!**

 **Thanks will be provided in detail in the footnotes, but really, know that I do appreciate the ideas for two reasons. First, I like the involvement of those following readership. It makes this feel like less of a novel and more like story-telling around a fire, which I really appreciate. Second, every bit of feedback so far has given me a new idea, brought a new perspective to mind. _A Holiday Season_ would not be the way it is without that kind of dialogue.**

 **Without further ado... Here is...**

 **Chapter 3**

11.59 P.M., December 25th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Dinning Hall

"..."Cool Cats in the 'Hood"?" [1] Sherry glanced up in mild irritation from the paper which suddenly appeared in her hands. "At least you're on time, if barely, but... really? That name is pretty... different." She surveyed the ragtag group before her, all three exhausted by their hasty climb from St. George's depths.

"We didn't have much time, but, ah, it counts right?" Touma shifted the balance of his coat, the weight in his jacket's hood awkward. "Besides, it's memorable! S-so, are we good then? We can compete?"

"Nope. Where's your forth? I only see 3 people." Sherry did a recount before nodding forcefully. "I don't personally care, but the rules are clear. You need-"

"Here."

"A-ah?" Their host paused, glancing around. "Where? Who?"

"Here."

This time the voice was louder and accompanied by a small paw, lightly raised within the folds of Touma's hood. Sherry peered in, eyes widening.

"...Why are-"

"Got a problem?" Othinus' tiny voice had lost none of its menace, but Sherry was not one to be intimidated. She was, however, easily annoyed.

"...You know what? I do. I do have a problem, maybe several. But I don't care. So sure, whatever. You can compete like that, I guess." Though her casual acceptance elicited a ragged cheer she turned away, the problem already forgotten. "I don't even care." She tossed the paper to Orsola, who was busy shuffling around various other examples in a desperate bid to look competent. "Have a sit down or something: you're the last group I think."

Summarily dismissed, Team "Cool Cats in the 'Hood" wandered over to one of the few remaining stations for the first contest. Set up along each of the four major tables of the Dinning Hall were clusters various supplies: bows, ribbons, and festive wrapping paper abounded. Most teams had already taken a seat and were appraising their challenge. Already there were problems, none more vocal than the one expressed from the distant end of Touma's table.

"We have to wrap THIS!?" Mikoto gesticulated furiously at the bicycle atop her table, it's pedals gently twisting in an impossible breeze. "That's ludicrous! Don't we get a box or something!?" She was addressing Orsola, who moments before sensed the issue brewing and scurried over.

"But, ah, T-team... _What was it again..._ Team "No L. I. M. Its." [2], that's why it's a challenge! Just remember to have fun and do your best! That's the idea, right? ...R-Right? A-ah..." The host's kindness met with fiery competitive spirit: she retreated, smile fixated by invisible nails.

The esper turned back to her assigned present, lips twisted into a sour purse. "Maybe I could just crush it into a little cube with magnetism..."

"S-Short Hair! That's terrible! I couldn't ride it if it's become like that!"

"The bike's not for you, nun. This is a contest, remember?" Lessar flicked an errant bow at her team-mate, it lodging in Index's hair.

"I-I know! I mean, I know **now**!" After a brief flurry it was plucked free and tossed back at the magician who flicked it aside with her tail. "That's still a mean thing to do!"

"Bite me."

"Maybe I WILL-"

"P-please, let's not fight!" Itsuwa's plea fell on deaf ears as Sherry took her spot up at the head table one last time, microphone crackling as angrily as its host.

"All-right, you bunch of whiners! GET STARTED! 20 minutes until judging!" A rush of motion enveloped the hall.

At his team's station, Touma eyed their wooden rocking chair thoughtfully. "I've never wrapped anything like this before." It was rather large, tall-backed and with a number of levers jutting out at odd angles. Agata leaned in closer to join him, finished examining their suite of materials.

"Me either. My grandma has one like it, though. Uragami-san, what do you think?" There was no response from her end of the table. "A-ah, Uragami-san?"

"Mmm? What?" The girl was toying with her scabbard, searching it for scratches.

"A-ah, I asked what you think?"

"About what? Oh, this?" She glanced at the rocking chair for a second. "It's a rocking chair."

"W-we know that! We mean, how do we wrap it?"

"Oh." She returned to her sheath, disinterested. "Not my problem. He can sort it out."

"Oh come on! We're a team! It'll be hard enough to win as it is!" Touma's exasperation was apparently not enough cause for their third teammate to join in. Sighing, he turned to his hood. "Othi-chan, any ideas? Maybe you can help with the smaller folds-"

"I said I'd come along, not that I'd do anything. Be more specific in your once-in-a-lifetime favours."

"AARGGH!" Face down on the table he pulled at his hair, tearing up a little. "Why must everyone be so CRUEL!?"

"D-don't worry, I'm here to help! I really want to win too, Kamijou-san!"

"Thank you, Agata-san: SOMEONE cares-"

"I can lord it over Agnese and the rest for weeks if I win! THEN see if they exclude me any more!" Though her intense expression was somehow still cute, Touma felt his heart sink.

 _I hope wrapping presents well doesn't require the Spirit of Christmas, or we're sunk._

!~~~~~~~~!

 _We're sunk_. "A-Agata-san, that's my- AGGH! OOWWARGH...!" He jammed the wounded digit in his mouth, not enjoying the familiar taste of salty blood.

"S-sorry!" The battle-nun recoiled in terror from the paper she had been cutting. "But the label said they were safety scissors! I thought they couldn't hurt you!"

"That doesn't mwean they don't swice phingwers!" He pulled it out to assess the damages. _Minor. Ow._ "Just, ah, keep an eye on where I'm holding down the paper."

"I'll be more aware, I promise! D-do you need first-aid? I don't know any healing spells, but maybe..." She paused, thoughtful. "Oh! Yes, your Imagine Breaker. Uhm... Maybe we could wrap the wound up like a present?"

"O-one present at a time, Agata-san!" He couldn't help glancing at the clock in despair. "We've not... ah, done too much..."

The rocking chair's back was more or less covered, but the legs and levers were proving a challenge. Three times they had tried, and three attempts had been aborted. He spared a second to think, glancing over at the now taciturn Uragami. She had finished with her sword, observing the other tables in boredom. An idea struck Touma.

"A-aha! That's it! Good idea, Uragami-san!"

"E-eh? What? Idea... What?"

"If we watch other tables, maybe we can get some ideas!" He stood up excitedly, hope renewed.

"It's too late for that." A voice from behind him pipped up: he twisted about a few times to find its source before remembering who was inside his hood. The Magic-God leaned forward, but her face remained shrouded in shadows.

"Wha- Othi-chan, what do you..." Almost all the other tables were done already done, waiting patiently for the clock to tick down. "...Mean. Oh..." His head fell, dangling limply. Agata stood up hesitantly beside him.

"Kamijou-san, it's okay! We still have time! About... Thirty seconds!? O-Oh." There was no response: he was despondent. Othinus waited, before sighing heavily.

"Look, Imagine Breaker, how about-" She was suddenly launched high into the air, catapulted from her conveyance. "...?" She rocketed up, just barely aware enough to latch onto a rafter with scrambling paws.

Touma flung into motion, ascending the table in single bound. "ALL RIGHT, THIS IS IT! I'M NOT GOING TO STAND BY AND LET MYSELF GET STABBED!" Confusion spread around their station, but he wasn't done, now clutching a full tube of wrapping paper. "AGATA! GRAB THE TAPE DISPENSOR!"

"AH! A-ah, right!" She took hold, her face determined if worried. The boy wasted no time, leaping across the table towards Uragami. She was leaning away from the commotion, sword unsheathed and held upright defensively. To her shock Touma slammed the roll down over the sword's tip. It fell loosely, ready to spin.

"U-wah!?" The magician stared at the attack, stunned. Though she tried to shake it loose, the blade's ruined edge was not enough to break free despite how she pulled and twisted. She watched the roll spin as Touma pulled the paper's end towards the rocking-chair and Agata.

"When I say so, TAPE! TAPE LIKE MY LIFE DEPENDS ON IT!"

"G-got it!"

He slapped his loose end onto the chair's back.

"TAPE! LOTS OF TAPE!"

He gave it quarter spin, faster.

"More! MORE TAPE!"

Another twist and then another, faster and faster.

"KEEP IT UP! TAPE TAPE TAPE!"

The chair was in constant motion now, a drill that threatened to bore a whole straight into the underground complex. Agata was wailing frantically, trying to hold onto the tape dispenser as it discharged its whole stock in moments. Uragami was trying to reel in the rest of her team like a fisherman, desperate to not lose her grip and let her sword fly across the hall. Touma was caught up in a cloud of ribbon and dust blown from the rafters in the updraft his tortured spinning was generating.

"...!" Othinus' felt her grip on the rafter weaken: the Anglican church had not seem fit to outfit her with claws. [3] It also occurred to the Magic-God that though dressed like a cat she did not share their renowned agility. "Wait, K-Kami-" She fell directly over the madly spinning rocking-chair, lost in the blur of wooden and wrapping paper. "AAAGGHH-mmph...!" Soon her voice disappeared as well.

The crowd lapsed into astonishment, so much so that no one could hear Sherry trying to regain control. "Ten sec- I SAID TEN SECONDS LEFT!" Frustration rising, she flung her microphone at the final competitors. "GOD DAMN IT, THAT'S ENOUGH!"

Touma never saw the attack coming. It slammed into his head, knocking him from the table. That crash and a final burst of static signaled the end of round one.

!~~~~~~~~!

He woke up on the floor, blinking. Agata was leaning over him.

"We finished! They're judging now, wake up!"

She pulled him to his feet, where he watched with rattled brain as the Team before his was judged. It was not a pretty sight.

"But why would you unwrap it at the last second!?" Mikoto was staring at the unfinished present, head held in shaking hands. Sherry had walked away saying 'incomplete' without a second word. The esper shifted her glare to Lessar, whose tail flicked irritably.

"Because you folded that last bit terribly! And the other edge was dangling! It's not my fault I ran out of time to fix your problems!"

"W-wha, MY problems... T-there would have been enough time if you hadn't have vetoed all the colour combinations Itsuwa came up with!" Lessar rolled her eyes at that, and Mikoto sunk to the table, defeated.

"I-It's okay, Lessar-san, Misaka-san, we'll do better next round, I'm certain! ...A-ah, Index-san? The contest... It's over."

"Uhm?" The little nun paused, looking at the bicycle again. "But I really think it needs another bow..."

Mikoto sucked in a deep breath, preparing to see how much better her opponents were fairing.

Sherry was again taking the lead on the evaluation of style , peering at the confusing mass of paper from Team "Cool Cats in the 'Hood".

"That's... a present, I guess. But it's just one solid colour. And there's no ribbons or bows or tags or anything: is it meant to be post-modern or something?" She shot a look at Touma, who tensed up spectacularly.

"A-Ah! It's, ah... A-art!" Sherry raised an eyebrow before appraising the present one last time.

"...But what is art?" Her question caught Touma completely aback. Agata had nothing to offer when he turned to her, her head shaking.

"...I have no idea." Though Sherry was not impressed by his answer, Orsola approached with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"But the present _is_ wrapped. I don't know if it is art, but maybe I can award something for technique. That was a very interesting method you had, Kamij-" She halted mid-thought. "Oh? What was that?"

There was a moment of silence, after which a second quiet groan was heard.

Orsola leaned in, her suspicions confirmed. "Oh my! How did you get the present to talk? That must be worth something extra-"

The chair began to rock now, shaking at first intermittently and then with increased fervour.

"A-and now it's self-propelling!? H-how extraordinary!" Enthused, she watched with a pleasant expression as the present violence grew. [4] Soon a tearing, scratching sound leaked out through frantically ripping paper. "Kamijou-san, how is it doing that? Is your technique really that strong?"

"I don't know! Othi-chan, did you do some-" He pulled his hood forward, but felt it rather light. "Othi..." The rocking chair was now shedding layers faster than a Canadian over -winter vacationing in Hawaii. "...Oh. Ah. Ah-ha... Whoops."

"...kkkaaaaAAAAMMMMMII **IIIIIJJJOOOUUUU!"** Othinus's cat-eared head pierced the final layer of her festive prison, screaming unholy fury. "YOU ~~~~~~~!" She remained stuck for the moment to his relief, but the judges spent a moment exchanging confused looks.

"Uhm, is that cheating, Sherry? Do the rules say anything about adding cats?"

"No..." Though she frowned, Touma felt a glimmer of hope. "But..." That hope shattered. "It's not exactly wrapped any more, is it? Team "Cool Cats in the 'Hood": Incomplete." They marched down the line as Touma collapsed.

"Aaggh..." Composing himself, he cautiously approached the now hissing rocking chair. "Well, at least Misaka and them didn't do any better..." _At least I've still got a chance to just avoid this whole bet if they all lose too. Though that still leaves the stabbing problem..._

"You better work harder than that, Kamijou."

"Wha-!? U-Uragami-san! NOW you show support!?"

"It's not like I want you to lose. Just STOP messing with my sword!" She leveled it at him, point waving dangerously. "It may be blunt, but I bet it'll still hurt!"

"A-agh! I'm sorry! Agata-san, please! I just need you to distract one, I can escape the other!" It was too late, for in a flurry of swears and shreds Othinus was free. Touma's getaway was prompt and timely; all three disappeared out the door and down the hall.

"O-oh... Oh dear." Agata sat down at her table, looking at her feet. "This is very stressful. Why can't everyone just get along? I'm so tired of comrades fighting each other."

"You better go after them." She looked up to see Sherry peering down at her. Tears began to well up in the young battle-nun's eyes.

"A-wah!? Oh, M-Miss Cromwell, you care about our team? You're so kind, a-and sweet, an-"

"You'll be disqualified if they're out in the hall when the next event starts. I don't feel like explaining that bureaucratic crap to my superiors, but I will if I have to."

"A-uwah?"

"Well? Get going. Or I'll just do it now and get it over with."

The Roman Catholic nun tore off out of the room, crying in desperation.

"So... Who actually won, then?" Mikoto was glancing around, waiting for some kind of announcement.

Though the runner's up were mostly just competent, first prize went to a surprisingly elaborate package. It was shaped like a cross, and taller than the battle-nun who supported it despite her shoes. Agnese laughed triumphantly, letting it wave back and forth precariously despite her team's concern.

"Now THAT is how you wrap up a pair of skies and a snowboard!"

"All right! Leave your gifts where they are! They'll be collected later!" Sherry stomped past, microphone sparking. "Orsola's handing out sheets with the clues for Event 2! You have until 1:30 to solve 10 riddles, each leading to places around the Cathedral. There are 10 words which spell out a hidden phase, leading you to victory! It's time for the Scavenger Hunt, you lazy ~~~~~~~s!" She paused. "Oh, and for this round, you can use powers. Whatever."

!~~~~~~~~!

 **CURRENT SCORE** :

TEAM "Cool Cats in the 'Hood": 0

TEAM "No L. I. M. Its.": 0

!~~~~~~~~!

1:04 P.M., December 25th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Third Floor: Library Wing

"I wonder if K-Kamijou-kun made it in time..."

"Don't forget we're in a competition here! Come on, focus!" Itsuwa's distraction was wearing thin on Lessar. "Winning is what matters, remember the prize!" There was a loud crash down another aisle, and a certain spiky haired idiot rolled into view just barely catching several falling books. "...And I suspect they managed."

"U-Uragami-san, I feel there HAS be a rule on blades in the libra-"

"That's CANDLE'S, dumb-ass!" But she sheathed her sword all the same, noticing they had an audience. "Ah. The competition."

"H-hey! Idiot, are you following us!?" Mikoto pushed her way forward. "The clues aren't in any specific order, so why do you keep ending up in the same place as us!? I don't like the idea of you trying to cheat!" It had been first the Community Room, then the courtyard, now finally the library. Though she had passed other teams many times on their way to try and solve this or that hint, a pattern was emerging.

Touma shook his head, dropping a book in the process. "It's not like that! We're just going from the bottom of the list to top! It was Agata-san's idea, right Agata!?" The girl poked her head around a shelf to nod. "Solve maybe the harder ones first, you know?"

"O-oh." _That was my idea, too. Drat._ "Well, w-whatever! Just... Ah..." She froze, blushing. "J-just keep out of our way!"

"Yep! Okay! Good-bye then!" He watched the girls disappear at Mikoto's insistence, despite Lessar's protestation.

"Hey! Wait! But what about-!" Soon team "No L. I. M. Its." was gone.

"...Phew." Touma stood up, brushing off his pants. "Okay, Othi-chan, we got them out of this aisle like you asked. You said you solved this riddle?"

"Yeah, yeah. Look." He felt a paper being pressed up against his nape, and could tell Uragami and Agata were both peering along with his prisoner. "When it mentions the 'hidden depths of religious history', it's clearly referring to the secret passage way in this wing."

"Wow, Othi-chan!" Agata's eyes widened in admiration. "You're really good at this!"

"Don't call me that."

"And how do you know there's a secret passage here? That so smart!"

"Not really. I just watched interrogation of some talkative Anglican's, back in my Gremlin days. I've got a good memory, and they mentioned..." She trailed off, noticing the blood draining from her admirer's face. "...What?"

"...S-so cruel... but so cute..."

"Aagh... Can we just get on with this? Find the book called 'A Bureaucratic History of Anglican Institutions'. But DON'T touch it."

"Ah, right, because of my hand." _Wait, I can't read English that well, how am I going to-_

"No, it's-"

"Oy, you mean this one?" Uragami was holding a book aloft. Its spine read 'A Bureaucratic History of Anglican Institutions', but it trailed a thin wire leading back into the bookshelf.

"...DAAAMNNN-iiiittttt...!" Othinus disappeared along with her steed down a surprise trapdoor, sliding along a smooth stone ramp into darkness. Agata remained but teetered along the edge, arms flailing.

"Oh? Neat. Come on, let's go." Uragami gave her a push and jumped behind the now squealing girl.

Touma fought to keep his face from grinding along the ground as he rushed belly-down along the tunnel. Suddenly it opened up halfway up a wall, dumping him two feet onto a roughly hewn floor. He tried to push himself up but was immediately crushed by his remaining teammates, knocked senseless.

"O-oohh... U-Uragami-san... W-why..." Agata could hardly move, lying winded on top of the boy.

"Oh, it wasn't that bad." Her teammate made to get off the boys back, but felt some twitch under her. She flushed bright red, punching her makeshift cushion. "P-pervert! I can feel that!" She kept punching as Othinus squirmed her way out from under her and the inside from Touma's hood, gasping.

"Gah! Hah... Couldn't... Breathe!"

Uragami's blows trailed off, the boy beneath her groaning, both hands clearly not groping for her. "...Oh. Nevermind."

"...S-such... A-agh..."

!~~~~~~~~!

"So why wasn't that magic?"

"What?" Othinus had returned to Touma's hood after he regained his poise, but was preparing to read on to the next clue.

"I mean, the trap door. That was just mechanical stuff."

"Some of the secrets here are magical, some not. The Anglican's are tricky ~~~~~~~~s; they like to play with expectations. Now leave me be, someone's got to solve the next clue."

"Right. Thanks, Othi-chan."

"Yeah, yeah..."

"Oh! Kamijou-san! I found it!" Agata's head appeared around a corner, and the group reassembled.

The scrap of parchment was just as Orsola had described back in the Dinning Hall, and was the twin of the other three answers Team "Cool Cats in the 'Hood" had already found. It was stuck to the wall of the secondary room with tape and labeled with a number 7. They had already found 8 through 10, and like the rules had demanded had not tampered with them. So despite Othinus' immediate suggestion, they could not destroy or take it with them.

"Ah! Of course. There it is!" Touma nodded understanding. "What does it say?"

"You said you've doing your homework, dumbass!" A tiny hand smacked him upside the head, and he winced in pain. "It says 'bible', and you'd know that if you could read English! And you'd think that would be one of the English words you might actually know..."

"Aagh... S-so, 'bible', huh? What does the sentence say now?" He turned to Agata, who on a separately provided sheet of paper and pen had been keeping track.

"Not including the first 6 words which we don't have yet... 'Bible makes you win'?" She read it out, but lacked confidence. "Did we miss a clue? I feel like there should be another word there."

"Either way, it's pretty clear, right? We just need a bible! We can go back up to the library and-"

"I don't think it's that easy." He glanced over at Uragami, who pushed up from the wall she had been leaning against, a thin layer of dust scrapped heedlessly onto her back. "I mean, have you noticed that neither Orsola nor Sherry have been around since this round started?"

"Oh. Ah. So?"

"I _mean_ that we need to figure out where to go first with the bible to find them."

"Well, that's easy! We just have to figure out the rest of the sentence! Once we get all the ten clues, it'll just spell it out right? What's the problem?"

"I have no idea." Othinus piped up from his hood, sounding troubled.

"There, see? Othi-chan is-"

"No. I mean the clue. It's about a wedding bouquet and where it was dropped in a mystery story. [5] I don't read literature."

"Oh. Uhm, Agata-san? Uragami-san?" Both shook their heads at his implied question. The group as a whole remained lost in thought. "We're running short on time, aren't we?"

"I think I can answer maybe two of the earlier ones. But I doubt we have time for the rest."

"So... What do we do?" Silence again spread in the dark underground passageway, broken only by the crackling of distant torches.

"Hey. Amakusa-magician." Uragami's head perked up, turning towards Touma's back.

"Yeah?"

"Do you know any of your church's scrying spells?"

"...Not really, but I can whip something up that might work just as well. I like what you're thinking."

"What? What are-"

"Oh! Wait, Kamijou-san!"

"Ah!? You have an idea now too, Agata-san?"

"Not really, but... H-how do we get out of this place?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"Damn it, we're running out of time!" Mikoto's foot taps echoed impatiently in the dim underground chamber. They had just found paper number 7 and the associated word bible, but the dust drifting in the air proved they had been beaten to this answer. "We've got 15 minutes left, and only 6 clues solved!" _And I bet they're still ahead of us..._

"This is your fault, you know." Lessar was clearly thinking along similar lines. "We would be beating those chumps if you hadn't dragged us away from the library! Instead we wasted five minutes over your damned awkwardness. If that's your technique for our little competition, you'll be making this too easy for me."

"I couldn't-! I just-!" It was too difficult to excuse or explain; ignoring the problem was the easiest solution. "A-aagh, just shut up! We can still do it! Itsuwa-san, how is the sentence so far?"

"Ah... It says 'with a bible makes you win', but I don't know..." The Amakusa magician had so far been the most helpful: though Index occasionally had revealed a piece of trivia she couldn't explain knowing, Itsuwa was the only one keeping the ragtag alliance moving. The nun was currently staring at a chalk marking on the wall, checked out of current events. "We ought to get out of here, though, if we want a chance to-" She paused, suddenly alert.

Mikoto heard it too, glancing back the way they had come. Someone had just exited the slide after them. At first she was unconcerned, but her magical friends tensed as one.

The ground beneath them erupted in a cloud of smoke. Long thin shimmering lengths of chain quickly wrapped up and around them: Index's mouth opened in some incantation, but was quickly gagged by a suddenly appearing hand. Mikoto blinked in surprise at the sudden assault, watching three more members of a different team enter. She only recognized Bayloupe, and though she was flanked by two other girls she addressed their fourth member first.

"All right! We got them! Good work on stopping her Spell Interception, Ushibuka, that was quick." Itsuwa turned, recognizing her fellow Amakusa ally, now a temporary enemy. He saw grinned and gave her a thumbs up with his free hand, though he twitched in pain every few seconds.

"T-thanks! But this one keeps trying to bite me, so can we make this quick? It's starting to hurt."

"BAYLOUPE, you ~~~~~! Was playing dirty and stealing our answers your idea!?" Lessar gave up struggling agiainst the bonds almost immediately, though she eyed intently the girl to her leader's right, whose hands were clasped together and eyes were lost in focus.

"Of course. I'm surprised you didn't think of it first, though." She sauntered up to the captives. "So which one of you girls has your clues? We overhead something about this group working from the bottom of the list, so I bet you have all the answers we don't! We only came in third last round; I'd like to win this one."

While Index chomped valorously at a suffering Ushibuka, Itsuwa and Lessar individually prepared their counter-attacks.

 _If I can knock Ushibuka away, just for a second, maybe Index can disrupt this spell that girl is casting..._

 _I can still move my tail, but I'm not quite in range yet: need to move a few feet closer to magician..._

Their plans were disrupted together by a sudden explosion of laughter from Mikoto. The esper did her best to calm down, understanding the confusion.

"What the hell is wrong with that one?" The girl to Bayloupe's left lowered a cross, preparing a spell of her own.

"Heh heh... Wow, I really wasn't paying attention!" Though she managed to keep her chuckling under wraps, Mikoto's smile was still wild. "I actually forgot powers can be used in this round. I'm just so surprised to see someone else messing around with metal, I thought those chains were just part of another mechanism in this crazy church."

"S-someone else...?" It dawned on the confused girl that something was amiss. "But this spell of my is based on reversing the holy blessing Saint Peter was given when he was freed from chains in Herod's court! I developed it myself just a month ago, no one could copy it so fast! [6] Wait... You're that esper? Does that mea-!"

The metal bindings, snaking under ground to catch Team "No L. I. M. Its." by surprise, writhed like snakes constricting their prey. But suddenly their motion halted. The girl casting the spell gasped, beads of sweat forming on her brow as she fought to regain control, baffled by Mikoto's serene expression.

"That's a neat little trick. I've controlled chains before, but they're a pain to keep together. Too much magnetic charge one way or another on the individual links-" The magical weapons vibrated for an instant before exploding apart. "-and they tend to stop being chains."

The shrapnel bounced around the room, forcing the invading team to take cover. Ushibuka launched through the air, sliding down the wall a few feet behind him. Though she dove to the ground and recovered quickly, Bayloupe rose to find Itsuwa's rapidly assembled spear aiming down. Her other team-mates were already dispatched, ankles bounds by a pair of _Dromi_ Lessar produced. [7]

She frowned as Mikoto strolled forwards, the tables turned abruptly on her ambush. "Impressive. You couldn't wrench them off you directly, but you just made each link oppose the next, destroying the symbolism... I should have done my research. I thought you just controlled lightning."

"Yeah, well, a lot of people don't realize just how much electricity does. So, which one of _you_ has your answers?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"See? I... Told you... It'd work out!" Though panting, Mikoto was smiling broadly again. Her team was similarly pleased, with the exception of an exhausted Index.

"Why... Does it have to... be so high!? I'm so HUNGRY!" The nun plopped down on the staircase in a petulant flop. "No further! Too tired!"

 _Crap, we all need to be there to win... We have plenty of time left, but there's more than one staircase up, and I want to be first!_ "...Ah... Index, I bet that mall has a really nice food court, but if you want to win the prize money we have to hurry!"

The girl pondered the blatant bribery. "How many sweets does 1000 pounds get me?"  
"More than you could eat at once! Heck, more than you weigh!"

"No way!" Her eyes lit up. "That's, like, 150 parfaits! Come on!" New-found motivation drove Index on in a blur, leaving the rest to hurry along in her wake.

They were already high up in the Cathedral, nearly at their goal. Soon they came to a leveled floor, half open to the elements. Hanging in the tall peaked ceiling was a Bell, beneath which were Orsola and Sherry. The former smiled and waved, visibly delighted.

"Ah! Hello! And I was worried I made the clues too hard... Oh, wait! Have you fully answered the riddle?" Itsuwa produced from her pocket her notes, reading aloud her team's triumph.

"It's 'Reaching the Bell-tower's peak with a bible makes you win', right? H-here, we have a bible." Seeing the text held aloft, Sherry nodded before glancing at an old pocket watch.

"All right. Team "No L. I. M. Its." has made it, with 10 minutes to spare."

"Yes! Alright! We-"

"Second place."

"S-s-second!? Who-!?" Mikoto's glee was short lived: for she just now noticed the group which was resting in the corner. "YOU!? HOW!?"

"Oh. Hey, Misaka. That was a rough climb." Touma leaned back, hiding his pleasure at having won. "Guess we got here a bit sooner."

"Do I not get the food now? After I ran all the way... Oh." Index's disappointment faded, distracted by something she saw in Uragami's eye. "So you are the one that cast that spell."

"Spell? What spell?" Lessar leaned in, prodding the nun with a pointed finger. "What are you talking about?"

"In that underground room: there was a ward spell set up, drawn in chalk. It depicted the cross, a common warding symbol, but with imagery of the angelic watchers Enoch interacted with added. I noticed it just before the that chain-manipulating spell was used."

"A w-ward? Was it..." Itsuwa pieced it together. "U-Uragami-san, did you plant something?"

"Yeah: Othinus there suggested that we spy on another team, but I didn't know any long distance scrying spells." Her magical colleague leaned back, beaming confidence. "But I did know how to ward a place for security, and we knew people would have to come to that room in order to win. So I planted a simple observation ward, and read the answer over your shoulders through a corresponding link I created. We were already upstairs with a bible, so we just climbed up here first."

"Right! Enough chatting!" Sherry made to shove the first placing team back down the stairs. "You've rested enough! Head back down and wait in the Dinning hall for round 3! You girls too! Get! And don't tell anyone we're up here!"

As they left, Mikoto forced a pout from her lips. _Well, at least we came second. We can easily make this up. Now, what was it that was.._ "Wait. Index, you noticed both spells down there but didn't say anything? Index? Index!?"

"What? What did I do!? Why do you look so scary!?"

!~~~~~~~~~!

 **CURRENT SCORE** :

TEAM "Cool Cats in the 'Hood": 5

TEAM "No L. I. M. Its.": 4

!~~~~~~~~~!

3:24 P.M., December 25th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Staff Kitchen

"Phew..." Mikoto wiped her brow with a shaking hand, sitting back on the stool. "I'm tired just watching her work. And my arm is killing me; why couldn't we get metal spoons to stir with!?" _At first I was annoyed that stirring was the best thing I could do to help, but now I'm just glad that part's done..._

"You're telling me. I hate baking." Lessar was seated not far off, equally drained. "We lucked out getting her on our team."

The day was passing by fast: the Christmas baking competition was already nearly done, and Itsuwa was still happily dressing pastries. She was humming some happy song to herself, and stealing glances across the room. Mikoto sighed, massaging some life into her bicep.

"Yeah, but it's almost offset by the other one. Hey! For the last time, you can't eat those!" Mikoto dove to reach the nun, grabbing her collar before she ruined a batch destined for the judges.

"But this is taking FOREVER! Itsuwa!?" Her pleas fell on attentive ears, for the magician turned from her work and smiled.

"Here, you can lick the bowl." No sooner was it said than was the little girl's head lost in a noisily slurping mask. Temporarily contented, Index left Itsuwa to her work, happily humming.

"This contest is surprisingly tiring, but she's still impossibly perky." _And why does it look like she's left aside an extra batch for someone?_ Mikoto put that from her mind, instead watching Team "Cool Cats in the 'Hood" struggle along. _At least I have something to feel good about: none of them seem like bakers, so maybe they'll get eliminated this round. He always says he's unlucky, but so far he's seemed pretty lucky to me!_

As the day had worn on, Touma's team had completed events in the most ludicrous of fashions. After the scavenger hunt had been the snowman building contest, and Mikoto's team had done well enough despite some minor bickering to place fifth, thanks to Index's inspired idea to dress it up in her old Walking Church robes. Team "Cool Cats in the 'Hood"'s production in contrast had been first decapitated and then gutted by Uragami's sword. Touma had somehow pissed her off, discovering to his terror that snow could not stop even a blunt sword. Sherry had found the wreckage so avante garde they had placed first.

!~~~~~~~~~!

 **CURRENT SCORE** :

TEAM "Cool Cats in the 'Hood": 10

TEAM "No L. I. M. Its.": 5

!~~~~~~~~~!

The luck had not stopped there. Immediately after was the gift-guessing test, where teams had to determine a present's contents without unraveling it. Though powers weren't technically allowed in this round, one particular skill came to her so innately that it was basically normal, or so she justified. Anything metal was obvious to her, and anything that wasn't usually had least some iron screws or fillings. Mikoto had thought her team had an unbeatable advantage:

She was half right: her team placed first with only one mistake. Unfortunately, Uragami on Touma's team was the only one to realize that the presents were all just the ones they had wrapped hours ago. She had also been the only person bored enough to notice what everyone else was doing, securing their team third without any major tricks.

!~~~~~~~~~!

 **CURRENT SCORE** :

TEAM "Cool Cats in the 'Hood": 13

TEAM "No L. I. M. Its.": 10

!~~~~~~~~~!

Just before their current baking battle had been a rousing game of curling. Despite being utterly unfamiliar with the sport, Mikoto and company learned quickly. Index was very much into sliding the rocks fast, and everyone else was coordinated enough to sweep and broom the ice to second place in a short tournament of three round sets. Mikoto had figures Touma was sunk with his handicap of Othinus, but the Magic-God had proved remarkably good at steering the stone whilst riding it. Apparently there were no rules explicitly forbidding that, since the official rules only mentioned that no one could be "on the ice" after a certain point: Team "Cool Cats in the Hood" placed third despite some serious head-scratching.

!~~~~~~~~~!

 **CURRENT SCORE** :

TEAM "Cool Cats in the 'Hood": 16

TEAM "No L. I. M. Its.": 14

!~~~~~~~~~!

Mikoto's team had been slowly catching up, but now things were looking decisive. _They may have made the top six teams, but if they place last here they're out! Then that bet is as good as... W-wait! No, that means Lessar will... No, I don't really care if she t-t-tr-tries to d-d-d... Aaggh!_ It was too frustrating to sort out her conflicting desires. _I'll just win and deal with everything later!_

At last the round was over: sure enough, under Itsuwa's direction, team "No L. I. M. Its." had produced an easy first place victory. The judges we already glancing askance at the lightly smoldering ruin of Agata's cinnamon buns, hesitant to try one. She was tearing up a little in embarrassment, but still managing to glare intently at an innocent-pretending Touma.

"H-how did you manage to spin the thermostat all the way up!? If I hadn't noticed when I did, there might have been a fire!"

"I don't know! I'm sorry! Look, I know it's not great, but all we have to do is beat the last team, right? These are better than..." Lancis was carrying her teams offering from their station, carefully maneuvering down the hall. However, just as she was rounded the corner she stumbled, tumbling her tray forward. Straight to an open window, where the entire contents of their worked spilled into onto the Cathedral's lawn. Lancis peered over the sill with a dismal face as he team recoiled.

"...And with the muffins, so too my shopping spree. Damn. Oh well." Sherry joined her, peering out down to the grounds below.

"I can't see them from here, so... Incomplete. You're disqualified. All other teams, let's go! Follow us downstairs! Team that want to observe, follow Orsola, she'll take you to the viewing area.

"Damn! We're were so close to eliminating them, they get fifth by default! What blasted luck." Lessar was inconsolable to Itsuwa's cheerful shoulder patting.

"There there... We've moved into first overall at least, and we get to participate more with Kamijou-kun now..."

"The point is to DEFEAT HIM! For the glory and survival of Great Britain! Itsuwa, your priorities are so backwards I don't even...!" Team "No L. I. M. Its." departed, leaving a certain spiky haired boy behind to ponder. His hood abruptly gained some mass, and he turned to face it.

"That window was closed earlier... Othinus, where have you been?"

"Nowhere. And tripping no one." He blank expression was met with indignation. "What? Didn't you want to win?"

"But that's dishonest!"

"I used my own abilities not special powers, so it's fine."

"What abilities!? You-"

"My abilities of tripping and window opening. Now move it, they've gone to the next event."

"Y-you really got into this contest!? What happ-"

"I did some research. Did you know there is a designer toy store in that mall? With all sorts of high-end equipment and accoutrements for dolls? With those I can finally live like a human again! A small human, but a human nonetheless."

"O-oh. Well, glad to see you're motivat-GRK! M-my drawstrings, stop, I'm c-choking-!"

"Onward, steed! To accessorization! Go, Imagine Breaker! GIT!"

!~~~~~~~~~!

 **CURRENT SCORE** :

TEAM "Cool Cats in the 'Hood": 17

TEAM "No L. I. M. Its.": 19

!~~~~~~~~~!

3:47 P.M., December 25th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Underground Training Course

"You know what? I don't care any more. I just want to go home." Othinus curled up tighter in Touma's hood, the smoke curling from her fur eliciting a coughing fit from Touma. He recovered slowly, waving the air to clear it away as he sat cross-legged on the floor of the Obstacle's course's end.

"W-what the Hell was that obstacle course even about!?" The boy was in little better shape, dripping wet where he wasn't covered in black soot. "Magical fireballs, normal flamethrowers, flooding trap rooms, half of it magic and half not!? That place was madness! And no one could use any powers, so how is that fair!?"

"The Anglican's take their their training very seriously, Imagine Breaker." Uragami was panting off to the side, but grinning despite. "I mean, this was nearly as bad as the Amakusa's initiation back when we joined up! Invigorating."

"D-did you ENJOY that!?" Agata finally, eyes wide from shell-shock. "I thought I was going to die. Only the thought of rubbing victory in Agnese's, Angeline's and Lucia's faces got me through it..."

"Well, we came third, so at least we went through it for a reason. We're not disqualified yet!" Touma glanced around, taking stock. "And we beat Misaka and them too! Even better." Her team had yet to arrive, and time was rapidly counting down. Sherry was tapping a foot, eyes glued to her watch.

They had been led down to the underground, which apparently connected to much of London's subway and tunnel systems. Almost all the church's training and practice courses were housed here, this one taking up the ground floor of a large square. Grid-like zones had funneled one after another to new and accelerating challenges. Each area had no ceiling, so that during real testing adjudicators could watch from above, safely ensconced in glass-covered alcoves. Now they housed the losing teams, in varying degrees relieved or disappointed about not surviving to this round.

It was nearly over, though, and Touma was thoughtful as the last minute counted down. Finally, a ragged group staggered through the exit, lead by a skipping Index. She glanced over at Touma and waved, smiling, not a mark or blemish on her.

"A-Ah, Index, how..." He paused, unsure of how to phrase it. "...You seem fine! Did you guys find a secret passage or something and skip it all?"

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"She just walked through it all, not a care in the world..." Lessar pushed up from her knees, upon which she had been leaning her full weight. "That 'Walking Church' is really something else. If only it showed more leg..."

"Huh. It's really that strong? I've never saw it in action, not after I..." He cleared his thoughts with a shake. "A-anyway, Itsuwa, how'd you manage?"

"Oh! Aa-ah, I-I'm fine!" The girl was hiding her face, seated on the stone floor.

"But you're holding your face; did something get in yo-" As Touma made to stand up and approach she scooted along the ground and away.

"N-no! Please, don't lo-... Really, I-I'm fine, j-just a little flushed!" She was desperately rubbing at her face, fumbling with a hand towel. Then she froze. "...B-but if I use it clean myself, how can I... But h-he gave it... But I'm c-covered in soot... But-" She sat facing the corner, locked in a endless round of circular logic. Touma didn't have time to question it, for a small weight suddenly wrapped itself around his arm,

"Hey! What about me, I'm here too!" Lessar's face was uncomfortably close. "Show me some concern too!" The boy leaned away, scratching his chin.

"O-okay! Okay, ah... L-Lessar! How did you man-"

"WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR, AN AMATEUR!? Of COURSE I'm fine!" She dropped down with a harrumph before sashaying away, swinging her hips in hopes of an audience. Unfortunately for her, the target was instead massaging his temples.

"...A-agh...?" His ears still ringing, Touma turned to look for the final member of Team "No L. I. M. Its.", who appeared to be having it out with Sherry.

"-I mean, even Academy City has SOME foresight when it comes to power testing!"

"What, too much for you, esper?"

"That's not the point, I'm just saying-!" Mikoto had seen from the corner of her Touma watching and froze. "N-NO, that's no-! A-ah, I-I mean, of course, **I** was never in any real danger, but it was harder with these teammates! I mean, I don't know what anyone else can do so we had no team-work, and-"

"Well then, girl, maybe _that's_ the point of this exerc- I mean, this event." Her cough covered up nothing, and a light lit inside Touma's skull.

"I knew it! This IS a training exercise!" He kicked down the door of the conversation, somehow surprising even Mikoto despite her embarrassed observation of him. He skidded up to the event organizer, arms waving. "This isn't just about holiday fun after all, is it!? We've been had!" Despite his frustration there was a note of triumph in his tone, but it quickly faded. "...What? No one seems impressed I figured this out."

Mikoto smiled and sighed, shaking her head. "I hate to break it to you, but that's how these things always work. I'm just annoyed at the set-up: I knew this whole trip had to have some sort of justification. Academy City must want to promote closer ties, and I bet you magic folks had this integrated training of allies planned for a while, right?" _Of course, I'm sure there's another layer of deceit, but no need to bring him into that. That's my problem._ "I just would rather we had been told before hand, in a briefing, or anything!" _Plus, why on Christmas!? Could this not wait or something!?_

"We had limited time, what with you lot flying in last minute." Sherry turned to Touma, frowning. "And so what if it is? It's multi-purpose, fun and practice. Besides, it's how we justified the budget for the prizes... ANYWAY, time's up, so let's get going on the second last round." The other teams were leaving, but Mikoto hung back another second.

"...What about the fifth team? I didn't see them behind us." Sherry looked down the corridor, expression blank.

Then she shrugged. "They'll show up. Someday. Now, get moving."

!~~~~~~~~!

 **CURRENT SCORE** :

TEAM "Cool Cats in the 'Hood": 20

TEAM "No L. I. M. Its.": 21

!~~~~~~~~!

"You realize this is the most important event, right?"

"Hmm? Othi-chan? What do you mean?" Touma was putting the finishing touches on a roughly improvised wall of snow. It finished the V-shape his team had created in their allotted corner of the inner courtyard. Behind it lay the stockpile of snowballs Urgami was forming, despite muttering bitterly at the cold in her digits. Sticking out of ground in front was their team's flag, sitting lightly inside a hollow pole. The rules had been to leave the flag visible: all that could be built were walls for personal defense or hiding, or obstacles to slow down movement. His team had erected the most basic of barriers, crouching behind their flag down clear sight-lines, but he couldn't see over the hedges what their opponent were up to.

"Remember what she said before? Every flag we capture this event is an extra point in our overall score, on top of placing in the standings. So if we just capture enough flags, and don't let our enemies score too many..."

"...We can guarantee we win the whole thing right now? Wow... I hadn't thought of that, Othi-coach."

"You never do. Now, listen to that woman, I think she's... Wait, what did you call-" Sherry's voice was already too loud, standing astride the central podium that raise aloft St. George.

"ALL-RIGHT! Preparation time is over when I finish talking! Listen up, here's how this'll work!" She gestured widely across the courtyard. "This is the Four-Way-Capture-The-Flag Snowball-Battle. You've all been given a quarter section of this field, centred by a coloured flag!" Where she pointed the eyes of spectators followed, allowed to watch from second and third storey windows and balconies. "Your goal is to to go up and physically take the flag of an enemy! When the flag of any opposing team is taken to your own holder, you score a point! The flag is charmed to return to its holder, vulnerable for capture again! You can score points only when you have your own flag-"

"Wait,did she say it returns? On it's own? That means it's magic! I can't touch it! What am I supposed to do now to help!? I really need to win this..." Touma's desperation finally evoked something out of Uragami: she sighed, tossing a snowball into his fumbling grasp.

"I guess you're stuck on throwing duty then, Kamijou." He blinked before grinning cheekily.

"Ah, yeah! You're right, Uragami-san. Thanks, I was worried I would be useless!"

"Sheesh, it's not like I did you a favour, so don't look at me like that. You'll probably still be useless anyway." She smiled lightly back at him: at least, she did before noticing she was smiling lightly. Her eyes widened, and the snowball she was making crumbled as he turned away, oblivious. _...What was that? What was THAT!? I HATE him! ...I do!_ [8]

"...And Team "No L. I. M. Its." in the North-West! Okay, that's the last one..." Sherry's brow furrowed as she rubbed it vigorously with her free hand. "You can only target people with snow or snowballs, no other physical weapons allowed. If you've been struck, you have to retreat back to your corner and touch both walls of the courtyard: Orsola and I will be watching for fair play. All-right, finally, I'm done... Oh. Wait." Many competitors had raised snowballs, dropping them jerkily at the interruption. "Except for the whole thing about using them only on snow directly or to move snow... You can use powers." She darted from the field, and the contest was on.

 _ **Footnotes:**_

[1] Believe it or not this is NOT a Fresh Prince reference for once! In fact, the idea for this one goes out to Okaidi, combining the concepts of "A Cat in my Hat" with "Lords of Cat-Town" but referencing Touma's hood instead through ghetto humour. I forget if I mentioned it in Chapter 1, but his coat has a hood. Anyway, I had already had the idea of Othinus riding/hiding in his hood to avoid being unduly humiliated by her predicament, but this name never would have occurred to me without your prompting. So, thanks very muchly!

[2] Team "No L. I. M. Its." name creation flashback:

Mikoto: "I like acronyms, so why not combine the first letters of all of our names?"

Lessar: "That fines, I guess, but why does the Amakusa get three letters?"

Itsuwa: "A-at least you get top billing this way! That's good, right, Index-san?"

Index: "What's an acronym? Does it have to with sacrament? It sounds similar..."

And thus it was so. This one was my idea, if you can't tell. Funny story: I entered this names without having spaces between each letter? FanFiction won't save beyond "No L.I.". What a bizarre bug.

[3] Not giving the Magic-God claws was probably a good idea on their part.

[4] Puns are fun, even the dumb ones.

[5] 10 points to anyone who gets THAT reference. It's so obscure, I've already have forgotten how I remembered it. (note: it might be slightly inaccurate, so just assume temporal anomalies possible in "A Certain Universe" compared to ours.

[6] Acts 12:6-7. Someone once mentioned that Index magic is hard to create effectively. Really, I find it quite simple, in that it's utter bullshit. Pick a random concept, find a bible or religious story that relates to it, determine what variables are going on (capture, destruction, etc), and then throw in Idol theory. Bam: instant spell. I'll admit, the biggest mistake I made in Part 1 was not alluding more clearly to Amazo's giant sized justification (as in the David and Goliath story) but even there I could somehow make a religious connection.

[7] Book 20, old testament. She tried to use it then to help him, but I think Touma somehow borked it up. Oh, Touma.

[8] Oh, _Touma._

[9] The clever reader might have noticed Lessar saying something a little peculiar this chapter. Something that doesn't seem to make much sense in context: you can't know yet, but next chapter I'll be revealing a tiny bit of drama that explains it that happened on the first night. I actually did plan to have it be in flashback in Chapter 4, but the volume of content I ended up having making that take longer than I expected to explain. Oh well!


	32. Part 2: Chapter 4

**I did it: 5 digit word count in a single chapter. If you wanted a clear indication of how much I over-planned this Book, there it is. Holy moly.**

 **I'm glad some people have been wondering what the snow-ball event would look like, how the rules would play out (note: I want to preface this by pointing out the rules again: powers can be used, provided the are used ON the snow, or used to MANIPULATE the snow in some way). Trust me, this one was both difficult and interesting to write. Part of the problem lay in showing the chaos of events, while keeping things clear to the reader. Another lay in respecting both the boundaries of the universe, and the boundaries I created for myself. In a way, this a trial run for something even MORE chaotic I have planned later. I hope that, if not within the text, then at least within the footnotes, that I've provided enough explanation for my decisions here so that I can justify my later ideas.**

 **As a last minute note: the picture didn't work!**

 **Chapter 4**

4.10 P.M., December 25th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Central Courtyard

"What? Did she say powers?" Like the other competitors, Mikoto spent a moment devouring the implications of Sherry's announcement. Her grin widened into a laughing smile. "Oh, finally! It's time to let loose! Now, how can I-"

"Hey, esper." Lessar's tail twitched, drawing restless circles in the snow. "Think you three can handle defense for now? I know the plan was to wait and see what the other teams did, but now I want to do some more... mobile reconnaissance."

"Ah, yeah, actually. I just got an idea of my own." _I never did find out about that tail... But, she seems confident enough._ "Okay, go see what our competition is up to." The magician grinned and took off, running low across the snowy field before darting behind a nearby hedge.

"Ah, Misaka-san, Index and I've got a big stockpile built up!" Itsuwa patted the top of a large pile of snowballs, breathing lightly. "It was hard work, but this many should last us the whole round."

"Well, about that..."

!~~~~~~~~!

"It's awfully quiet out there." Agata clutched her armament in trembling hands, but her focus was sharp as she peered over their battlement. Team 'Cool Cats in the 'Hood's zone was completely empty. "What do you think everyone is doing?"

"Re-evaluating, I'll bet." Uragami was crouched down low, rummaging through her pockets. "That announcement makes things interesting. I only have a few spells that can even involve snow. How about you?"

Agata pursed her lips. "Hmm... Snow? There isn't much where I grew up in Italy, so I don't have any spells that relate to it."

"Hopefully everyone else is in the same boat. Ah! Hey. See that?"

"W-what? An enemy?"

"I think so... That bush moved." Uragami wound her arm back but in flurry of snow the intruder was gone. "Damn. Well, at least no one is..." Her eyes widened. "W-wh... When!? Look, our flag!"

Their flag holder was empty. The Amakusa magician jumped over the barricade to investigate but was pulled short by Agata's grasp. As the two girls tumbled back to safety two snowballs pounded their cover.

"Where did those come from!?"

"I don't know! They just, sort of, _appeared_ in mid-air, I barely saw them!"

Uragami peered over, anxiously studying the field. With small flash of light, their flag returned: an enemy team had scored. But then the flag vanished again.

"W-what?" Right before her eyes, it was gone, yet the field remained clear of enemies. Except for the snowball which materialized in the air, narrowly missing as it drilled towards her head. "What the Hell is happening!? And where the Hell are our teammates!?"

!~~~~~~~~~!

"...I don't see anyone defending. What do you think, Othi-chan?" Though it was hard to see from beneath the prickly hedge, it remained the best hiding place, despite the terror Touma felt about damage to his coat. Before him and Othinus was an enemy stronghold: if anything it was more basic than their own, just a straight flat wall protecting their corner behind the flag pole.

"I'm going in: you stay here."

"You know, I DO have another hand."

"I know you, Imagine Breaker. You'll manage to touch it somehow and ruin everything. Just keep watch." The Magic-God clambered down from her perch, disappearing into the deep snow. "Oh, and if someone shows up, do something distracting and draw their attention."

"While I normally hate being a target, since it's just snow I think can handle it." Othinus vanished into the field. Before she had gone half the distance Touma lost track of her. Together they had struck out when the game began, hoping to move before other teams. From what Touma could tell their base occupied the South-East portion: Mikoto and them were diagonally opposite, leaving the remaining teams adjacent to both. So he and his make-believe cat had ventured north, ignorant about their target.

For now it remained that way. No one was visibly patrolling, no other team had approached, and the spectators were silent in anticipation. _Maybe they're invisible? Or have they hidden within the snow somehow?_ Now he could just barely make out Othinus shimmying her way up the pole. As she reached the top, carefully removing the flag, his mind wandered. _I wonder what sort of spells would even be related to snow?_ _Is there a snow-Innocentius thing running around mythology? A yeti, may-_ Othinus dropped to the ground with the flag, only to be immediately swallowed in a massive wave of snow. "G-GAH!?" He slapped a hand over his mouth, but his noise was by far the quietest around.

It rose up in a solid roaring mass twenty feet tall, like a bubble inflating in broiling soapy water, before coalescing into a vaguely man-shaped figure. Sitting on each shoulder were two girls: one was Floris, her small wings fluttering ineffectually as she shouted across her team's field. [1] The other was an Anglican nun, clutching the snow in terror, eyes wide and mouth babbling.

"T-that was like being b-b-buried alive! It was so dark and cold: why did we have to hide in that thing again!?"

"It wasn't that bad, get a grip, Chloe. Well!? Oy, Kouyagi, you blind ~~~~~~~, you said you saw something!"

"I did, I swear!" A short brown-haired boy dressed like an Amakusa magician popped his head up from a hiding place, startling Touma: instead of being behind his fort he was deceptively camped under a different nearby hedge. "All of a sudden I saw the flag moving, so I gave the signal!"

"Never mind. Bethany or whoever you are in there, did you see anything...? Hey! Hey, you inside the snow-golem!" Floris began rapping on the head of the abomination, which eventually retracted, revealing a tall British girl. She began coughing, and the conjuration wobbled.

"Aah, stop that!" Just her head was visible, but that was enough to make her annoyance plain. "It's hard enough just moving this thing. I never tried to use this type of spell with snow as the medium before instead of clay or dirt! It's not quite as simple as substituting earth with water glyphs, you know, and the thing keeps trying to melt!" [2] As if in response the whole thing sagged, water dripping down.

Though their antics revealed their ignorance, Touma was still aghast. Somewhere inside that thing was Othinus, and their was only one obvious way to get her out. If they hadn't been so distracted, they might have seen him sprinting forward: it was only at the last second that Kouyagi noticed. His shouted warning was too late; Imagine Breaker rang out and three voices as one cried surprise as they fell in a cloud of snow.

Othinus exploded out from the spell, eyes wide but flag clutched tightly. As she cartwheeled Touma caught her and made a sprint back the way he had come, all stealth forgotten as she dangled. A few snowballs flew his way but the assault was half-hearted: they made a clean getaway. Reaching a side path he stopped to check on his partner.

"...At least the fur is warm." She shook off the patina of snow, but raised the flag.

"I'm glad you're okay, but what was that thing? I mean, what is it with magicians and making huge monstrosities!? How many things like that ARE there in religion!?"

"Like that? Not too many, considering it was improvised from a standard construct spell." They continued on, sneaking back to their base in case they ran into a different team.

"Well, at least I stopped it."

"Just for the moment. Though it'll take a minute, I'm sure she can reform that thing. In lore, golems are known for their regenerative properties."

"O-oh yeah... I fought one before. I guess I forgot that part." [3]

They arrived at their home field but were stopped by a bizarre scene. In the centre of the arena was Uragami, drawn sword waving angrily at nothing, as Agata cried out warnings.

"Behind you!" Uragami twisted away, and the surprise snowball was avoided. There was moment's pause before another came from her blind spot. "Again!" This one the magician ducked, but held her ground. She kept a close perimeter around their flag but was clearly tiring. [4]

"W-what's happening!? Where are those snowball's coming from!?" Touma jogged over but tripped midway. He sprawled forwards, launching Othinus ahead. The Magic-God rose fast and scampered over to the flag to score a point, but Uragami shouted triumph for a different reason.

"There! Agata, NOW!" The charge was needless for the snowball had already been thrown, since for the briefest of instants a girl on her knees was revealed where Touma had tumbled. The attack struck her arm, and fell over again, crying in protest. She went invisible again, but a shout rang out from above.

"CHARLOTTE MILLER, you've been hit! You're out, so if you don't turn visible and make your way back to your base, you'll disqualify your team!" Sherry's threat was convincing: the Anglican in question materialized and sulked away.

"W-what is happening!? They're invisible somehow? Who are they?"

"It's the team from our west!" Agata called from the base, another snowball in hand, but she kept a wary eye about her. "That's the third time we've gotten one: we think there are at least two of them attacking together, but even if we get one they just come back once they've returned to their base."

"Yeah, we've been stuck here defending. I can only stop them if I stand right here, but if I get hit once I have to run back to our corner, and the flag gets stolen. They've only managed to score 3 points so far, I think, but it's hard to tell." Despite her worrying summary, Uragami's smile was intense. "It's an interesting challenge."

"And we only just got one!?" _Wow, that team is really taking this event seriously! Wait. Biri-Biri and Lessar can't go invisible, right!? Oh wow, those are even scarier thoughts..._ "W-well, we're here to help! ...Say! Can't we just track them by their footsteps in the snow?" Uragami quickly shook her head.

"No good. Whatever they're doing, it's somehow using the loose snow around them and incorporating it, so no tracks remain behind. I have no idea how they are casting it and still attacking like this, though..."

"Perhaps we can use that to our advantage." Othinus had been quietly listening, absorbing details. "Amakusa-girl. Know any spells that involve wind or blowing air? I think I know of a way to combat this."

"...I can summon up a dust-devil if you can get me a safety pin: I already have an elastic band. Will that do?" [5]

"Yes. Anglican-girl?"

"Y-yes! I heard, I have one!" Agata scampered forth, holding the pin aloft. "They usually back off when one of them gets discovered: they've slipped up a few times already!"

"Which means I have time to prepare." Uragami bent down, setting about her work. It was a matter of seconds, wrapping the band around the pin and holding it aloft with eyes closed. "Just say when." A snowball darted out, missing her head by inches. "Never mind! Starting now!"She flicked the pin open, and band began to spin madly.

A sudden wind whipped up, circling the group as they cowered around Uragami. It quickly extended to the edges of the field, but it wasn't a violent storm. It was just a steady and solid wind, driving snowdrifts about. Touma suddenly understood, forming a snowball. He took aim at the hazy figure standing far back by the hedges, popping it square in the stomach. It tumbled backwards, and a very startled girl became visible, eyes blinking confusion. Another hazy figure, this one much closer and holding a snowball, suddenly materialized into Agnese.

"T-the spell-! You interrupted it!? How did you-Agh!" A snowball collided with her leg. She glanced down, her confusion replaced with seething fury. "HEY! I WAS TALKING, BOY! WHAT KIND OF-"

"And now you're out! So, go back to your base or whatever!" He waved cheerily, and despite her anger Agnese had no recourse. She followed her first teammate, intercepting Charlotte who had just returned to drag all together in a general retreat.

"That was amazing!" Agata's admiration filled eyes crouched low to praise Othinus, who was idly grooming her fur in forced indifference. "How did you know that would work?"

"It's just like I suspected: that spell is based on mirages, specifically Fata Morgana. Supposedly based on the legends of Morgan Le Fay, it usually describes maritime or water-based illusions created by hot and cold air differences. But it's been combined with Norse depictions of Jötunn, or Ice Giants, and their ability to steal up on you despite their size in winter climates. Cleverly improvised, considering the circumstances. It makes sense British wizards would have more lore involving snow..." [6]

"But there was a flaw." Touma nodded understanding. "Since the spell can instantly use light snow to make the illusion, it was easy to see where the blowing snow suddenly disappeared, used up to create the mirage. There were just holes in the air where there wasn't snow."

"Yes, and you targeted the correct enemy: the hidden third one, who was hiding in the background channeling the magic itself. Mirages rely on perspective and the right conditions, meaning the caster had to be concentrating somewhere nearby enough to see the field."

"Wow... So cool... And cute too..." Agata's innocent appraisal knocked Othinus right out of her lecture mode. More quietly, she continued. "Everyone is being so useful... There must be something more I can do..."

"Okay, well. Anyway, they'll be back, and though that'll work again they might develop a counter."

"Don't worry, puny god." Uragami pulled out some cloth from her pocket, wrapping it around her fingers. "You've bought me a few minutes of peace: I can set up some traps that will slow them. We can handle defense for now."

"That's good to hear." Touma rubbed his hair, looking out over the now quiet arena. "I wonder how the other teams are doing..."

!~~~~~~~~~!

The brown-haired boy named Kouyagi peered into the field. The fort this team had built was fairly developed: it had two small towers, one topped by a brown haired girl, eyes alert but facing away. He spoke into his hand, where slip of paper fluttered. "I think we can go in. Can you get close enough to take out that sentry?" His words appearing on the scrap before fading away. Soon more text appeared, but not from his lips.

~I've got it, kid, you can just watch~ It was becoming simple to recognize which responses were from Floris. He sighed, unsure if he was annoyed that older girl was such a pain or relived that she was pretty capable. ~go in Chloe~ was the next message. [7] The terrified girl from before ran into the field from a separate point, panting. Mikoto immediately noticed, confidently aiming at her new target, just as an unseen snowball streaked into her back. She lost balance, tumbling forward.

"G-gah... it's damn hard to sense snowballs." She stood up, shakily, watching in frustration as her flag began to rapidly depart. _I could certainly stop her if I pulled up some iron sand, but I feel like that would be frowned upon._ She sprinted back to her team's corner to tag herself back in, passing a worried Itsuwa who was still busy preparing weaponry.

"A-ah? Did we get attacked?"

"Yeah: but it was someone attacking from behind. Did you see anything?"

"No, I wasn't watching that way: she is... or s-should be..." She pointed to Index, who was busy making a snow-angel.

"...Great. Well, it's time for that idea I told you about. HEY, NUN! Yes, you! Get over here!"

"Aaawww..." But Index was forced into ranks with her team anyway, pout ignored. The plan was explained.

!~~~~~~~~!

"I wonder what they're up to..." Floris' vestigial wings flapped impatiently, but she stilled them, crouched in hiding by a bush along the north wall. From here she had tagged the esper, and from here she now spied on the enemy. The position revealed one corner of the fort well, but nothing directly behind. She almost made to move closer, but stopped. _No need to change the plan. This is working fine._

Her scrap of paper twitched in hand. Glancing down, it read ~Chloe is back in position~. That was enough notice: Floris readied a snowball and looked for the sentry, but was surprised to instead see the nun named Index out in front. She was building, of all things, a snowman. _I wonder if they have a spell similar to our Golem method... Well, ours needs more work, so bet that isn't ready either. I'll just take her out first, and let our team score another point. The others must be in the back, but I can take them out one at a time when they come out._ She gave the signal to attack and Chloe ran in again.

The Anglican magician sprinted forward, holding a snowball threateningly. But Index just waved cheerfully.

"Hello! Want to help me build him? It's my first snowman of the year!"

"A-ah?" Chloe slowed to a walk, then stopped. "W-what? But, in the middle of a-"

Floris had no such curiosity, her snowball from the shadows blasting Index hard. The nun fell, but quickly flew up in rage.

"WHERE!? WHO!? WHY!? I'LL GET YOU!"

"Misaka-san! The bush!"

"Got it!"

Floris's eyes widened. _~~~~! They figured out my position. I'm fine as long as I stay in this cover, but I should still bail once they get distracted. But which way..._

Then she heard a disturbing, metallic popping sound above her.

She glanced up, face-first into an onrush of snow from the roof above. It buried her and the bush in a single heap. From his better vantage point Kouyagi could see that a 15 foot section of eavestroughing had been ripped from the roof just above his partner's hiding place. It hovered for a moment before flying to Team 'No L. I. M. Its.' fort, where Mikoto stood brazenly.

"Load 'er up!" From a tall stockpile, Itsuwa began loading up snowballs, stuffing dozens into the channel where rainwater normally flowed. It was filled in seconds, and it floated up to a menacing height.

It was then that he saw what was coming. "Is that fair? Is that FAIR!?" His hurried glance up to Sherry in a balcony was not rewarded.

"Eh... It's being used to _move_ the snow, so... Yeah, whatever. It's fine."

"...Retreat! RETREAT!" He shouted now, ignoring his magical scrap of paper, but there was still not enough time.

Mikoto whipped her weapon around like a sling, the barrage like bursting buck shot. It peppered the field in a mighty spray: whimpering Chloe was caught full blast as Index hid behind her snowman, and even 30 feet away Kouyagi took several direct hits. In their flight they abandoned Floris who remained stunned, face just visible under the avalanche Mikoto had engineered.

"And stay out!" Mikoto laughed at their scattered retreat. "There! Told you that would work. And best of all, it's technically not cheating."

Their own flag was secure, and with excellent timing Lessar returned with an enemies instead.

"There. Another point. That base is pretty weak: only one person defending it. It's been easy to outmaneuver her." She glanced about, nodding approval. "Nice amount of carnage."

"It'll tear through our stockpile quickly, but it's effective." _Wait, am I warming up to this brat, or do I just really want to win? Which is worse?_ Unable to determine the answer, Mikoto dodged the internal question. "Ah, So, how does the score look?"

"From what I can tell, Orsola seems to be drawing lines up on a chalkboard in one of the balcony's. Says we've got 3, tied for first. Kamijou is tied for last, but we need him completely out of the picture."

"Agreed. I-I guess." Mikoto thought for a minute. "That would be ideal. He's probably the backbone of his team. If only we could somehow... Hmmm." She glanced again at the long thin piece of metal she had used. "...I hope they don't mind me getting another one of these and wrecking it... Oh, Hell, I'll just buy them more on that shopping trip. Okay, here's what I'm thinking...

!~~~~~~~~!

Touma and Othinus made their way around the central statue: the paths were mostly clear here, the snow undisturbed on the ground. "Okay, so, Othi-chan, why did you want to see what _they_ in particular were up to?"

"Because they're in the lead now, and we haven't seen their tactics yet. If we can learn we can defend against it, and perhaps use it ourselves."

"I doubt that. I'm irreplaceable!" Touma spun sharply as Lessar's voice came from behind, Othinus diving under a bench for cover. As he turned he launched a snowball, hoping to surprise the enemy magician with his speed. But tail whipped around a bush and pulled her aside and clear of its path. "But that one is all her." She gestured behind Touma before leaping further away, and he realized with horror the ground rumbled behind him.

Wearing a malicious grin on her lips was Mikoto, riding a crude sledge molded from more lengths of damaged eave. The wall of snow plowing ahead of her crested in a gigantic wave; Touma was consumed in its mass, thrown about and carried away around corner. He lost track of Othinus, the ground, and finally his own limbs as he spun about and about.

Finally the spinning stopped, as did the merry tap dance his brain was performing in his skull. He blinked, and saw Index waving at him.

"Hello Touma! Hold still." She jabbed a branch broken off a bush into one side of his prison, stepping back to investigate thoughtfully.

"W-what? What?" Touma struggled, but all his limbs were caught tight. In fact, only his head and neck were loose. _This feels just like that carpet Amazo used, but..._ "Oh. Damn." _It is just like that._

He had been rolled up into a giant snowball, and after Index put the finishing touches, he had also been transformed into a very round snowman. [8]

"There! We got him." Lessar sauntered up to him, flicking his nose teasingly. He sneezed and she recoiled, but recovered with aplomb. "W-well! Anyway, you're our prisoner now, so now you have to do what we say!"

"Girls bullying me? What else is new..." He paused at her angry expression. "...D-did I say that outl-MMPH-!" The snowball to his face stung icy cold. "N-now that's unfair! I couldn't even dodge, and I can't run back like this!" Seeing Lessar in no mood to talk, her twisted his head about. "B-Misaka, was this your idea?"

"W-Well, somewhat, maybe.. I-I mean, yeah, of course it was! It worked, didn't it!?"

"Kamijou-kun, I'm sorry, but at least we can ta...t-t-tal... A-ah..." Despite interjecting the proper words escaped Itsuwa. She fell back on a sudden concern. "A-ah, y-y-you're not cold are you!? I-I'm sorry, I never would have said okay to this plan if-"

"No no, it's fine. I'm actually warm in here. This jacket works pretty well: thanks again, Misaka."

"D-don't thank me, Idiot! I'm your captor, treat me seriously damn it!" She kicked snow-Touma a few times, rocking him back and forth. Index's consternation ignored, the esper stalked a short distance away, pointedly on the look out for new enemies.

Suddenly Lessar jumped up into Touma's face, tugging at his collar. "Hey, that's right. I thought that looked different. You're already wearing her gift, you cur!? What about mine!?"

"A-ah... Yours, huh...?" Wracking his brain, Touma averted his gaze. _Ah! New Light gave me that fruitcake, right!?_ "It was... Eheh... F-fruity?" That was not the answer the magician wanted.

"Not THAT gift! If you had actually ate it, you would have found **MY** gift! You know, the one hidden inside!"

"I just got the gift this morning, I haven't eaten it yet-"

"THEN HURRY IT **UP!** " She leapt back down and strutted away, her shout still ringing in the boy's ears. "MEN! No appreciation for hard work..."

Mikoto's worry was piqued: she had seen that fruit cake, and it seemed totally normal. _But I have Kuroko for a roommate: normal looks from a psycho-nymph can be deceiving._ So she took the magician a short way aside and asked her very pointed question.

The answer floored her, face red as she nearly failed to keep her horror to a whisper. " **YOU** -... Y-y-y-you baked, baked your **panties** into a **cake**!? That's... That's so **unhygenic**!" Lessar tossed her hair, looking back at a confused Touma, who only had heard a couple words.

"W-what did you... What was that? Should a young impressionable boy be hearing this sort of thing!? Please, I surrender already! Just don't torture me with girl-talk!"

"Sshh! Don't say it out-loud, it's a surprise." Even Lessar couldn't look unembarrassed after her admission, but she rallied to her own standard. "Besides, boys LIKE that sort of thing! It's romantic and stuff. You wouldn't understand, being such a-"

"NO-ONE would understand!"

"YOUR techniques don't seem to be working any better! Besides, the panties weren't even the most important thing I hid in the cake. The aphrodisiacs, now-"

"WHY WOULD THAT EVEN BE A THING YOU WOULD DO!?" _Are you Kuroko's long lost twin!?_ Rather than being chastised, Lessar's patience snapped, normal display of sultriness evaporating in loud whisper.

"Look, I've tried everything else I could think of! Moving in for physical contact, obvious innuendos, deliberate displays of lingerie: I even told him out right what I wanted from him! It's because he's so oblivious that I've had to come this far!" Misaka backed down in shock as the magician regained her cool. "...But I will not lose this battle, for the sake of Britain, even if it means seducing the biggest dumb-ass Japan has to offer! He's impossibly dense, but such an important resource!" A manic light filled the eyes of a magician driven to desperation.

... _She's right about some of that, at least._ "It's worse than last night: you're completely insane. But this isn't the time, we've... we've got to... Wait. W-wait!"

Index was busy building feet for the snowman out of branches when Mikoto dragged her to her feet. "W-wha? What is it?"

"Where did he go!?" Index followed Mikoto's finger, and saw only a hole in the top of the snowball where a certain spiky haired idiot's head had been.

"...I don't know. Am I supposed to?"

"DAMN it! Itsuwa, did you-!?" The paralyzed magician shook her head, eyes downcast.

"I-I was too... I just couldn't stare at him like that... I'm sorry..." Mikoto quickly forced calm upon herself, embarrassed at her display.

 _But I had him where I WANTED him for once! GAAH..._ "No, my bad, i-it's okay. Let's just fan out and find him!" The girls scattered to the four winds, leaving the hollow snow-ball unattended.

A small cat, white with snow, chose that moment to claw up to the hole in the vacated snowman. She peered within.

"Hey. I got the flag twice while they were distracted. Having fun?"

"...it's wet and awful. Can I escape yet?" Sitting in a puddle of slush and snow runoff was Touma: he had gone nowhere but deeper into the ball. At first it had surprised even him, but he realized quickly that his coat was so warm it was melting the snow inside. He freed first his arms, then his legs, and as soon as no one was looking pulled his head down into a make-shift igloo.

"Yeah, but make it quick. I'm going to get their flag one last time." Othinus disappeared, leaving Touma to kick his way out. Snow-Touma crumbled onto him, but he brushed it aside. Despite his coat he shivered: his pants were soaked. But at least he was free, and before anyone could notice had escaped from Team 'No L. I. M. Its.' field and chased after Othinus.

!~~~~~~~~~!

4.48 P.M., December 25th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Central Courtyard

The snow battle was nearing its end. As near as Mikoto could tell there were only 10 minutes left and no team had managed to secure an obvious lead. From her high perch up on their, she could just make out Orsola's score board. Three teams had ten points: only Touma's had nine.

The thought of him put a kink in her otherwise cheerful mood. _I can't believe I fell for that damned idiot's trick. Why didn't I just look inside!? Agh... He's so damned annoying that I just, I just can't think straight! What a crappy quality of his.. One of many! D-damned idiot._ But that was already ages ago, and though they had lost several more points during her frantic search for the escapee they had since recovered security. Lessar at least had been doing well scoring points on distracted foes. _She's surprisingly sneaky._ _Though maybe I shouldn't be surprised..._

Index was still clowning around, carving pictures into their fort with a stick, as Itsuwa idly shaped more snowballs. She was clearly losing enthusiasm but carried on gamely: it was obvious that Mikoto's effective technique required a lot of ammo. And as far as the esper was concerned it wasn't her fault that she was better on sentry duty. [9] In fact, a few such were approaching now from the east, but at least one of them was surprisingly low to the ground, perhaps even under it.

"Hey. We've got incoming." Itsuwa jerked alert at the warning.

"Oh! Ready!" Since they had pre-loaded the eaves-trough already, the young magician grabbed a projectile of her own. Together they peered over their barricade, as Index kept up her merry work.

"Ah... that bunch again." It was Floris who stepped boldly into gap between hedges, plainly visible at a pathway's entrance. Though Mikoto levitated her rack of snowballs as a threat, the enemy laughed in her face.

"That won't work twice. Bethany! Raise it up!" She gestured grandly with both arms, but nothing happened.

"Raise? What are..." The snow around the entrance began to swell, rising into a great sphere, Floris riding it two stories up. "...y-you talking..." The snow compressed into a man-like shape, with empty eyes and gaping mouth. "...the _Hell_ is **t-that** thing!?"

The New-Light magician balanced triumphant on a shoulder, leveling a finger at their target.

"Hahaha, YES, it's ready now! It's time to pay you back for that slight earlier! CHARGE!"

The great mass first leaned forward, snow falling off in clumps. It shuffled rather than stepped, unable to break contact with the ground, but glacier-like it inexorably made progress.

"...Faster! FASTER! We have to smash those walls and drive them back!"

A muffled voice responded from within the hulk's head, shouting irritation as the mass stopped. "I'm not really sure I can control this thing well enough to charge anyone! It's not really finished yet, and-"

"Then focus on controlling it and stop complaining! Just, I don't know, push it **that** way! It's not hard, Bethany!"

"It's good they are bickering with each other, but what can we do to stop that thing?" Itsuwa had retreated with the rest of her team behind the wall as soon as the trump card had been revealed. "I don't have any spells meant for something like that that I can use right now."

"I could shock it, I guess, but snow doesn't react much to electricity without the right conditions. Is there someone inside that thing? Maybe if I-" She was cut of by the shake of Itsuwa's head.

"No, that would break the rules: powers can be used only on the snow itself, not the opponents directly."

"If I could hear the spell language being used, I could Intercept her channeling and control of her snow-golem, but it's muffled by the snow..." Index muttered out-loud, only to be gripped hard by Mikoto.

"Y-you're actually paying attention!?"

"W-what? Yes, I am! I'd just rather be playing, that's all." She pulled away. "There's never this much snow in Academy City, I want to enjoy it!"

"There will be p _lenty_ of time for that-" There was a cacophony outside their walls, a great crash of snow splashing in a wave. "L-l-later!" Mikoto peeked around a corner and saw that a hay-bale size lump of snow had narrowly fallen short of their walls. As she looked, a smaller version streaked just by her face, likely tossed by Floris. Before forced to retreat she observed the snow-golem bent over, fashioning another clump, as its rider carved a smaller version out of the shoulder below her.

"I don't think that wall can take too many of those!" Itsuwa had also managed to catch a glimpse, eyes wide. "Misaka-san, can you...?"

"Yeah, I can catch it no problem with that scoop I made earlier, but I'm sure that other one will target me."

"I'll keep her pinned down, don't worry! Are you ready?" Mikoto nodded, but a hand tugged on her sleeve. She looked towards Index.

"What do I do?"

"...K-keep an eye on the flag, maybe!? This all might be a feint, so let us know if someone comes, okay?"

"Right! I'll help!" Roles decided, Team 'No L. I. M. Its.' sprang into action.

!~~~~~~~~!

Neither side gave any ground. Though the golem made slow progress, the attacks thrown back by Mikoto kept it off balance. In fact, despite being made of snow it was dramatically effected by each hit, forced to reshape itself constantly.

"Bethany, what the Hell is going on!?" The stalemate was seriously bothering Floris, her boots pounding on the snow-golem's shoulder.

"...-amn-it, do you want me to fight or explain!? Golems in Jewish Kabbalah are always symbols of unfinished work, okay!? So if she keeps adding snow to it, it acts like it has to finish itself again! It's VERY annoying!" [10]

"Then this spell is useless spell for a snowball fight! Ah, whatever, we have to keep going! We need to score that point!"

"Why they Hell are you so fixated on us, anyway!? There are other teams out there!" Mikoto didn't expect her challenge to be answered, but Floris was in a combative mood.

"Because you PISSED ME OFF! NOW, DIE!" Her rage-filled attack had poor aim, but it whizzed noisily past the esper who dove for cover.

"When did this stop being a game!?" _Wait, doesn't this girl hate that idiot? I actually feel sorry for him, she's completely unreasonable! Are all magicians off their rockers!?_ Despite the chaos and violence, no points had been scored since their forces met. In fact, no team had scored for a while. _Even if we don't clearly win, we can still eliminate him if he doesn't score soon..._

!~~~~~~~~!

 _Crap, if we don't score soon, we'll be out this round!_ Yet Touma was at a loss as to how to enter the fight raging before them. "If I attack the golem, Biri-Biri will target us, and if we just rush the flag we'll get caught in the crossfire! What do you think, Othi-chan?"

"What we need is a distraction." The little Magic-God leaned thoughtfully against the prone boy, who again found himself under a prickly bush. "I think the remaining team is also trying to join in: I've seen at least one invisible person get caught by a stray attack."

"Really? Why not attack Floris' team, or ours?"

"The traps the Amakusa girl set up managed to deter them, and that other team is diagonal to them. It's faster to go here. Look, we're running out of time, we need a solution, not questions. Those other teams know our strategies too well: our best bet is to do something here, and keep everyone else from scoring more."

"I-I can help!" They both turned, expecting a sneak attack. But it was, of all people...

"A-Agata-san!? Man, you scared me-aren't you defending the base?"

"Uragami-san said she could handle it! Please, I figured out what I can do to help! I DO have a spell! Listen..."

!~~~~~~~~!

"God-damn it, those invisible creeps are persistent! Get OUT of here already!" It was proving annoying for Mikoto to repulse both teams at once: every time she slung a barrage at the hidden assailants, the golem would advance. When she switched focus to the hulk, they would steal up close. It was proving an endless war of attrition.

"Misaka-san! Our stockpile, it's nearly empty! We can't make enough to keep up with you, you throw too many!" Though Itsuwa was worried, the esper only shrugged.

"It's okay, I can resort to shoveling snow directly on them if I have to, but we really need Lessar to get back here with a flag fast if we want to win!" She surveyed the battle-field. _Gosh, it's almost like Normandy..._ The once pristine landscape had become a brown slush filled quagmire: the snow-golem was more churned-up mud than dirt, and there was hardly any snow worth throwing. _How could this get any less like a snow-ball fight?_

It was then she saw Touma appear near the southern east entrance, where Floris' team had entered.

" **That's** how. Hey! HEY, IDIOT! GET OUT OF HERE!" She made to launch snow at him, but was forced to defend from another dirty-snow boulder from the golem. "T-tch... Itsuwa!?"

"S-sorry! I'm, ah... u-uh, I'm equally busy!" The magician was carefully scoping out the field, targeting invisible foes when they strayed to far into dirt and revealed themselves. "Index?"

"Aaaah! AAAAHHH!" The nun was diving behind cover that was rapidly disintegrating, pummeled from too many directions. "Snowball fights are AWFUL! TOOUMMMAAA, why did you make me do this!? You'll pay!"

Though he heard and shuddered in trepidation, the boy instead turned back behind the hedge. "O-okay, Agata! They're too busy to stop you!"

"Right!" She had already drawn the appropriate runes and sigils onto the pathway, lines traced in snow. "...I hope this works..."

"W-what do you mean, 'hope'?"

"I've never tried this with snow as the medium before! Snow is basically ice, right!?"

"I-I think so, but does that really matter?"

"This might explode the Cathedral if I'm wrong, but here goes!"

"Well, it should be- WAIT HOLD O-"

!~~~~~~~~!

 _I don't know what he could be up to, but it couldn't be-_ The wall beneath Mikoto trembled, and her thoughts froze.

The other two teams felt a similar tremor. The battle slowed, hesitated; halted.

Then the ground rumbled.

Then the earth roared.

Up from the pathway, brushing aside hedges and benches, arose a massive shape. It dwarfed the snow-golem and grew larger still, casting a shadow over the battle tableau of motionless fighters. It grew incredibly long, stern flat against the Cathedral wall and aft just short of the centre-piece of St. George, taking up the entire pathway and hedges and half of Team 'No L. I. M. Its.'s field. Atop it knelt Agata, panting but triumphant, as Touma clung to the mast that had erected itself beside him.

"...T-that's... **Really** h-hard to do alone...! Even though I used snow, which was easier to mould, that took a lot of mana... H-heheh..." She managed to stand, wobbling to the railing to survey the battle-field.

"A-Agata!? How!?" Agnese's focus lapsed, as did her teammates; collectively their invisibility spell dissipated. The leader stood transfixed in the mud, staring dumbfounded at the sight. "You actually... summoned the...!?"

"Oh my!" Orsola turned from her score-keeping to admire the sight. "That must be the Queen of the Adriatic! It's so elegant!" [11]

"It's one of them, at least. I'm just glad she didn't bring the whole fleet. As it is I think we just lost Stewart's favourite rhododendrons." Sherry was shaking her head, but couldn't force a grin from her face. "Hah! I'm glad I suggested this event, this is hilarious!" Her amusement fled when she realized one the combatants was shouting up at her.

"HEY! JUDGES, or whatever!" Floris flailed her arms at the ship which had stolen her team's thunder. "T-that... That thing CAN'T be allowed, can it!?"

"Sherry? What do you think?"

Sherry stared in disbelief. "Of course it is! That looks like snow to me. Oh, and 1 minute remaining!"

"B-but-! No, that's not... N-not..." Yet her complaint seemed petty in the face of the snow-cannons leveling towards at the field.

"...A-agata-san? A-are you okay?" Touma approach to the girl was cautious, her head hanging in exhaustion. His worry grew when he heard the chuckling.

"Ahhah... Ahahah... AHAHAHAHAHA!" Agata whipped her head up, gripping the banister feverishly. "AGNESE! You think you're so much better than the rest of us!? WE'LL SEE ABOUT THAT!" Her leader flinched as more cannons swiveled down to aim.

"N-now, Agata-san, I think we've proven the point, how ab-"

"Bethany, this golem can survive that, right? ...Right!? RIG-"

"A-Agata, if you promise not to fire that you can have ALL-"

"R-Really!? The Idiot's **partner...**!? ...Girls, brace for impa-"

"ALL CANNONS! **FFFIIIRRREEE!** "

!~~~~~~~~!

The sound was tremendous: the gallery of spectator fell back as the shock-wave rattled windows and blew up a wave of blinding snow.

More than half the competitors were eliminated in the single volley. The snow-golem disintegrated under the force of multiple hits, its controller and rider sent flying into a cushioning bush. Agnese was bowled over by launched snow-cannon-ball as tall as her, sent rolling along the ground in a muddy mess; her allies fared no better. Team 'No L. I. M. Its's fort was not even in ruins; there was no evidence it had existed at all.

But it had not disappeared in vain: Mikoto, Itsuwa, and Index had each evaded a direct hit. The latter was lost in shock, stunned insensible to the world, but two at least remained standing.

The first thing they saw as the dust settled was Touma on the ship's deck, a snow ball ready to be thrown. Each quickly readied their own.

 _T-this is okay! That Idiot can only hit one of us! And then our flag is safe!_

The three attacks launched. Itsuwa's hit his leg, Mikoto his shoulder. Touma's shot went incredibly wide, launched with his offhand.

"Hah! Missed, you..." The snow-ball sailed through the air, directly towards their flag. In an instant her suspicion grew. She felt inside it with her powers, and within she could just barely make out a very small iron zipper, attached to a very small suit of some kind. "...I-Idiot?"

Mid-flight the ball exploded, revealing Othinus. She caught the flag as she passed it, spiraling down its post to keep momentum before scurrying back to home base. Free to score one last point.

"W-what!? IS THAT EVEN ALLOWED!?" She didn't wait for an official proclamation, chasing after the Magic-God. She ran until she heard the sound of snow-cannons swiveling, her boots slipping to a halt in the muddy mess. "...Oh. R-right." _Really feel like firing a rail-gun right now..._

The Queen of the Adriatic in all her glory had reloaded, bearing down on new victims. But the structure creaked and groaned, cracks forming in joints and planks. It began vibrating, energies under tension escaping unplanned.

"A-Agata-san! Why aren't you firing!? What's wrong!?" Touma had returned to the safety of the ships's mast, his work done. "I don't remember these ships doing that last time!"

"T-the Queen, she's... She's breaking apart! Aaww... I guess snow might not be a good material for a dreadnought after all."

"Should we get off!? This thing is making really worrying sounds!"

"Oh, it's too late for that." Agata sighed, sitting as her creation crumbled around her, a high-pitched keening filling the courtyard. "It's going to blow up after all. At least I managed to shoot a volley... That was cool."

Light burst through cracks in the ship and dire winds blew all the way up to the spectators, forcing them back to cover. Seconds before the explosion-

-Imagine Breaker rang out, and the boat transformed back into snow. Which held, for just a moment, its shape.

Before flooding down in a solid wave to fill the courtyard.

There was no time to dodge: the tide overtook everyone still in the field.

The wave was so massive it nearly caught up to Othinus, propelling her the last few meters to her team's field. She tumbled in but kept to her feet, flag held aloft. 20, 15, then 10 meters from their holder. She knew there must be seconds on the clock.

From her cruel expression, so did Lessar. She leapt in front to block the Magic-God's path. "I don't have to score: if I stop you, you get elim... E-eliminated!? W-whoa, w-w-w-WAIT A SECOND!" The magician had planned to stop directly before the flag post.

However, after sliding in from the side, she kept on sliding. Failing to halt she crashed to the ground, slipping butt-first away along hard-packed snow from her target and directly into the feet of Uragami.

"HAH! Friction removing spell on the snow, based on Japanese Christians slipping their bonds to escape persecution in the Edo period. [12] Oh." She dropped a snowball on Lessar's head. "And you're out."

Othinus leapt and slammed the flag home: it disappeared in a small flash, registering the point.

"...AAANNNDDD... TIME'S UP!" Sherry had somehow gotten atop of St. George's statue, crying out as she glanced up from her watch. "Well! Wasn't that fun!?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"We **ALL** tied!? After all that effort!? That makes it seem so futile..." Touma could not be encouraged, ignoring Agata's awkward shoulder pats.

"So what... gah, what happens now?" Mikoto was finding she couldn't wipe all the mud off her snow-pants, but she made a game effort.

"I don't know. Orsola, did we come up with a tie-breaker?"

"For this event? The team who had the most flags taken from them was supposed to be eliminated, but... I got distracted and stopped counting near the end. It was just so exciting!" Her sparkling eyes betrayed no embarrassment, so Sherry gave up on glaring at her partner.

"Fine, hold on. Let me think." Her frowning face finally nodded. "Right. One of you guys broke the rules. Bethany, that golem of yours got stronger over time."

"D-did it?"

"You didn't notice? I'm an expert on that kind of magic. It was because you stopped using snow as the medium later on: it was strengthened when you added mud. Even if it was by accident, you broke the rule of not only using snow."

"WHAT!? **THAT'S** what we get caught doing!? _Aaagh_ , we were so close..." Floris fell to her knees, her team defeated. But immediately whipped back up to dive at Touma, who began a hasty escape. "This is your fault somehow, you ~~~~~~~! Get back here, don't run! I don't care that it's Christmas anymore, I've already got my presents, and there's a whole year ahead to make up for what I'm about to do to you..." Her voice trailed off as they disappeared inside.

All present watched for a moment, before Sherry coughed.

"Well, anyway, that leaves three teams. Meet in the Community Room for the final round. Winner takes all, because I'm tired of tracking these damn points." She threw away her clipboard [13] and stalked inside, avoiding potholes and dirty slush that marked the carnage in the courtyard. The snowball-battle was over, but the Christmas war had yet to be won.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **CURRENT SCORE** :

It apparently doesn't matter any more!

!~~~~~~~~!

5:07 P.M., December 25th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Community Room

"So that's it? We're just decorating this tree with this stuff here? No magic? No surprises?" Orsola nodded four times in a row, smiling beatifically despite Mikoto's pointed interrogation. The judges had lead them to the community room, where the three trees so beautifully arranged had been stripped of their ornaments, left barren and green. Her team was stationed on the far right side, right next to Agnese in the middle. On the furthest left was Touma, and all around them ringed a number of spectators.

"It does seem a little... odd after the last event, doesn't it, Misaka-san? Still, I'm sure we can win!"

 _I'm glad that Ituswa at least has enthusiasm to spare._ "Yeah, you're right! It's just decorating. We can do this."

"This contest is all about style, and since I'm the only New-Light member left in the running our team has a monopoly on style. Trust me." Even Index looked askance at Lessar's claim, but the timer was already ticking down. They set to work.

Time passed, and decisions were made. They eventually opted for a classic look, long red ribbons criss-crossing up and down branches, weaving in and out of shimmering golden orbs. Soft lights wrapped round and round and set the picture of a cozy traditional Christmas. The work progressed smoothly: so smoothly that Mikoto stepped back to analyze her competition.

 _That tiny clog-girl sure is... domineering._ Agnese was stomping around the central tree, shouting sometimes contradictory orders that her teammates scrambled to follow. But it seemed to be working: though their tree was vibrant and over-filled, the general arrangement of multicoloured tassels and electric candles was effective. _But is it better than ours? ...At least she's our only real competition._

Team 'Cool Cats in the 'Hood' was in moderate disarray, their efforts rapidly coming undone.

"We should have put the star on first! Oh, oooh, careful!" Agata was dancing back and forth, catching ornament shaken loose. Their tree wobbled endlessly, shaking as Othinus rode its highest branches.

"It's too late for that, so stop complaining! Kamijou, pass me the star." She waited, paw outstretched, but nothing came. "If you can't reach, just toss it up, numskull." Touma below looked dubiously at the star he held.

"I can't help but feel this a bad idea." He glanced to Uragami. "W-would you maybe do it?"

"Me? Why?"

"I just have this bad feeling! I mean, what might happen when I throw it?"

"It'll go upwards maybe? And no, I won't, so just toss the damn thing."

"Agata-san, perhaps-"

"Sorry, I don't think I can throw it that far."

Touma swallowed down the unease, which settled in the pit of his stomach. _This is it. Okay... Please, please don't let me brain her. I fought so hard to keep her alive!_ His arm cast back, star dangling low, before it launched up in dazzling arc. It crested just above the tree, and Othinus had to stretch up to touch it. First one paw, then another brushed it, but neither got a solid grasp. It carried on over, falling past her and to the ground. But the Magic-God leapt from her perch, both paws latching onto the prize as her feet left the tree: she disappeared on its far side.

Touma knew there was no way he could move in time to catch her; his eyes closed, awaiting the crash.

That never came. As one his team leaned around the tree, but Othinus was not sprawled painfully on the ground as expected. They looked up.

"Y-you caught it!? But how!?"

"I tied my tail around the trunk to avoid falling. What, did you think I would risk life and limb for this stupid contest?" Sure enough, she was swinging back and forth gently, wearing a proud smirk despite her stated disdain, tree top bowed over in a hook with her weight. "I managed to become a Magic-God, I think I can plan well enough to-"

The tree lurched.

"W-well enough... to..."

It began to tilt.

"...W-w-w-w-wwwWWAAAARRGGGHHH-" Her voice was muffled by nettles as she was pinned into the next tree by the weight of her own. It leaned at a terrifying angle, ornaments tinkling to the ground. The crowd of watchers began to notice the disruption, a few gasping in shook.

"-and if it's not completely tied it's going to look-What are you all shouting about, I'm trying to direct here-MY TREE! MY BEAUTIFUL TREE!" Agnese scrambled beneath but was too short to slow its fall. Her pride and joy now crashed into the third and final display.

Index was the first to notice, but she made no sound. Her mouth opened in a wide O and she dropped the bulb she held. The tinkling it made alerted her comrades just as the shadow of their falling tree cast over them.

The tree accelerated, but Mikoto had just enough warning. The tree itself had no metal, but many bulbs were hung by steel hooks. She wrenched on a number and the tree stopped, though a handle of trinkets blasted into the ceiling, ripped from their branches. But before she could right it a hue and cry rose from the other side.

"IMAGINE BREAKER you ~~~~~~~! It's ruined, everything's fallen off!" She dangled from Touma's neck, clogs kicking into his rear as he struggled to remaining standing.

"Hold it! HOLD IT!" A hand reached over the boy's back, dragging the petulant youth from her prey. "Damn it, just STOP already! What is wrong with you!? I didn't say you could kill your opponents this round: that defeats the purpose of decorating! Now, LAST round, maybe-"

"That idiot trashed my tree!"

"No he didn't, just look!" Sherry pointed, directing the girl like a lantern towards the carnage, which was not in fact carnage. Not only was Mikoto's tree fine thanks to her powers, but Angese's tree was righting itself. "We knew Imagine Breaker might be competing, so we applied a magical balance charm into the tree's bases. We doubted he'd touch that part, so they aren't going to completely fall over to anything less than an explosion."

Sure enough, Mikoto felt her own tree lift back. Sheepishly she let it return, watching as most of the ornaments tumbled away. It swung up, as did the middle tree.

But the third and final tree, the instigator of it all, remained at angle, jammed stuck by the tip into the middle tree's side. As Agata poked it with ginger touches, Sherry shook her head in desperation.

"What a disappointing finale. And the time just ran out. Well, at least I'm done with this malarkey..."

"...S-so?" The voice dripping with disbelief stopped the magician short. Turn back, she saw Mikoto wearing a look of confusion.

"...'So' what?"

"So who WON!?" The esper could not contain herself anymore. "Come on then! If it's done, it's done, so just tell us who won already!"

"...Fine." Sherry turned back to survey the damage one last time. As she did, Agata's ministrations bore fruit. Her tree sprang free, slinging a very dazed Othinus by her tail. She yo-yo'd back and forth for a moment before dangling, a very wilted Christmas tree topping.

"...K-K...K-K-Kam... K-kil...M-m-m-murd... er..."

She voiced echoed in the awkward silence. "Alright. Here's the verdict. Esper! You used powers in a no-power event, so your team is out. Clog-girl! You assaulted someone in a no-assault event, so your team is out. By default, and despite that horrid tree, Team Cat-hood or whatever wins. If you've got a complaint, send it to Orsola or God, because I'm taking a nap."

!~~~~~~~~!

6:23 P.M., December 25th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Dining Hall

"I still don't believe I won." As he mused for the the umpteenth time, Touma felt a pea bounce off his head. "Ow." He glanced up from the gravy boat he was idly stirring to see Mikoto's dour expression from across the table.

"Stop rubbing it in. No one likes a sore winner." _Or whatever the Hell your attitude makes you._

"I-I'm not! At least, I'm not trying to be sore about it. It's just, I'm not a _winner_. That's not how things work." He poured more gravy over his already soggy mashed potatoes, watching it dribble away. "I still don't believe I won."

"If it makes you feel any better, I can't either. She said I **cheated**! I just didn't want to have a tree land on me!"

"I can't believe this whole day. I never win contests like this. It's impossible. Unheard of." _I should be happy. So w_ _hy does this wonderful meat taste like dust? Why am I so worried? What am I forgetting!?_

The spread before them made lunch seem like a quick snack snatched from the cupboard: there were roasts at each table, expertly carved, and every variety of English luxury. Some of it was unfamiliar, but Touma would have normally had no problem digging in. Sensing their discomfort, Itsuwa leaned into the conversation from beside Mikoto.

"Don't feel bad, Misaka-san: everyone who wants to will get free transport down to the Mall anyway, even though we lost! And you sometimes win, don't you, Kamijou-kun? I mean, what about that trip to Italy? W-when, when you came down to help Orsola and I saw you a-a-and gave you a t-t-t-t-" Though her nerves nearly got the better of her, Touma's fork clattering to the floor jerked Itsuwa back to reality.

"Oh god. You're right." His eyes widened, casting off across the room in a thousand yard stare. _Oh no. Of course. I remember now. That trip ended in disaster. Only the worst case scenario ever happens to me, which means winning... is the worst case scenario. What trouble am I going to get into tomorrow!?_ "You're... right."

"That's... G-good?"

"...Such misfortune..."

Dinner continued on and, despite the dismal mood of one spiky haired boy, it was full of cheer. Even he warmed up as more familiar faces streamed in. Most surprising was the ruling family of Britain, who apparently had celebrated mass here in the morning before spending the day on official duties. When Mikoto realized who the three girls and older lady were crowding around Touma for a quick "Christmas selfie", her fit reached the upper bounds of exasperation. [14] But she recovered, greeting them with all the decorum she could muster as a foreign representative.

It only got worse when she was introduced to their body guard. The tall young woman first leaned over Touma, placing a hand on his shoulder. His blush fired Mikoto up worse than any royalty could, but soon her ego was fixated on only one aspect of the newcomer.

"H-h... H-h-h..." _Don't say huge don't say huge don't don't_ "H-Hullo! Aah, ahem, h-hello! M-my name is Misaka Mikoto, of Academy City!"

"A pleasure. My name is Kanzaki Kaori, of Necessarius. I don't think we've met, though I've fought with Kamijou many times in Academy City."

"Me too! I mean, met you. And fought with him." _Why are so many of these magician girls so busty!? Wait. Is there... IS THERE A SPELL FOR THAT!?_

 _"..._ Misaka-san? Misaka-san, you're... you're pouring too much g-gravy, it's going everywhere, M-Misaka-san...!"

The meal lasted into the evening, with a small band of musicians lending their talents as a festive backdrop. Eventually most of the reveling trailed off, guests anxious for private refreshment in their rooms.

!~~~~~~~~!

9:48 P.M., December 25th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Underground Dorm room

Mikoto lay on her bed in idle thought, trying to ignore Lessar's off-key shower serenade. Index was predictably still finishing off the left-over deserts upstairs while Othinus lay prone before an English newscast on their room's shared television. She was watching a feature highlighting a recent string of high-profile heists; at least it seemed she was watching, for the Magic-God had not stirred or made a sound since moving to that spot. For all intents and purposes, Mikoto and Itsuwa were all those truly present; the latter was combing her hair in fits and starts at her nightstand.

All this silence gave Mikoto plenty of time to think.

 _Well, we lost the contest. And that idiot won. Which is... good?_

The ceiling held no answers. But the level 5 felt she had to justify that fleeting impression somehow.

 _Yeah. It is good. No, it's great, actually, because it keeps the brat away from him. And I don't really think he'll have anything really evil in mind about that favour, so I'm probably safe. A-and I wouldn't REALLY mind, you know, d-doing him a favour, after all, it's not like we're enemies or anything. Even if I did lose the chance to... I MEAN, and PLUS, I don't have to d-d-d-da... HANG OUT with him or anything... So, all in all... This all worked out fine. Today wasn't a bad day. Tiring, but not bad._

That assessment, however well manipulated into her preferred shape, had the unfortunate side effect of bringing up yesterday. When just around this time, she had been part of a troubling conversation...

!~~~~~~~~!

Flashback: 9:48 P.M., December 24th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Underground Dorm room

"I think we need to make things clear between us, esper."

"What? I-I mean, pardon? Make things clear?"

"About him!"

"H-H-H-HIM!? L-Lessar-san, please, I t-think you've-"

"Yeah, HIM! You know who I mean! Imagine Breaker!"

"W-what, what do you mean-"

"I get what it is. You're after the same thing I am!"

"I-I am?"

"You can tell I'm trying to recruit him for the sake of Britain, but I get it. You want to keep him to protect Academy City!"

"Y-you are... I do!? Wait, I don't know if-"

"I'm tired of waiting for him to understand, so I propose the issue be settled by New Year! We each try to seduce him, and whoever gets the furthest can claim victory! If we both try at the same time, even he'll need to acknowledge it and make a choice. Come on, this works in your favour too: I can see your methods are just as ineffective so far as mine."

"Why is New Year-WAIT, DID YOU SAY SE...d-did you say ' _s-s-s-seduce_ '!?"

"Good! I'm glad you get it! So, it's decided! I would wish you luck, but I want you to lose so I won't."

"W-wait, where are you...! What do you... W-w-what did I just agree to...?"

!~~~~~~~~!

9:48 P.M., December 25th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Underground Dorm room

"...saka-san? Mi... Misaka-san, are you...?"

"H-hmm?" Mikoto jerked alert, sitting upright on her covers. She and Itsuwa stared at each other, until Mikoto realized her face was beet-red. Scrambling for her open suitcase she organized clothes busily, keeping her embarrassment hidden. "Ah! S-sorry, lost in thought!"

"It's okay, I was too... Uhm, can I talk to you?"

"Sure, of course, just let me finish folding this... A-ah, yeah, so, what is it, Itsuwa-san?"

"I just wanted to say sorry, Misaka-san, that I wasn't more useful in the contest: you and Lessar-san both worked so hard."

"D-don't say that, you nailed the baking stuff, and the snowballs, and kept us moving together! We two nearly tore the whole thing apart, eh-hehe..." _Then again Lessar and I both had... significant motivation, unlike you._ The magician was silent for a minute and Mikoto turned back to her suitcase, thinking the discussion over.

"A-ah... But, Misaka-san... T-this is kind of hard to ask, but could I also talk to you about Kamijou-kun?"

"Eh?"

"Well, I mean, I can see you're a good friend of his: you knew exactly what he would want when you got him that jacket, and you live in the same city as him... I-I was hoping you could maybe... T-tell me... A little about him..."

"W-well, I mean, I know some things, but he's kinda secretive, and I don't know if I shou..." _W-wait._ "Uhm... Itsuwa-san, why do...?"

"Well, Misaka-san... I-I want to... Get closer to him."

"Close? C-closer?" _Oh no. Oh NO._ Mikoto's worst fears were confirmed in the dreamy cast of Itsuwa's smile. _How did I not see it!? WHY DID I NOT SUSPECT!?_

"I like him. K-Kamijou-kun, I mean. C-could you help me? I need every advantage to compete with all the others, but you're his friend, like you both say, so... P-please? I promise I mean only well!" In the silence that followed the esper swore she heard evil laughter from the couch, though it was quickly muffled. But that thought came distant second to the main problem reverberating around her skull.

 _...Ah, crap._

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes:**_

[1] She has little vestigial wings! I completely forgot about that in her initial depiction. I actually have a silly theory about why the four member of New Light each have a random additional body modification, but that is something I might actually use later in the story so I won't explain here.

[2] A minor explanation: there is no reason to suggest that spells have to always use a specific medium, only that it is easier and make the resulting Magic stronger when the symbolism lines up. A golem is really just a golem: a man-like creature formed from non-living matter. It's a stretch, and it doesn't work well, but I feel I can justify using snow instead of earth for it: it's just substituting an element. Besides, there exists lore about creatures of ice and such, so as long at that can be adapted it would probably at least work, if not as well as more standard earth golems.

[3] Against Sherry Cromwell, in fact. Her golem is significantly different: she can control it from afar or let it take it's own order. The one pictured here, being much weaker, has to be controlled internally and constantly reinforced.

[4] I wanted to say she was 'flagging' but even I'm not that cruel.

[5] This one is complete bull, but it's an intentional joke. The Amakusa are know for creating spells out of the simplest of every day materials. Basically, they're the MacGyvers of Magic, and I find that amusing.

[6] This spell is pretty neat. It doesn't REALLY tie in Christian mythology, but since it uses Norse religion and British history through Morgan la Fay, I think it makes enough sense.

[7] You may be thinking "that's cheating, since the spell doesn't use snow!" Luckily for them, it's innocuous enough a magic that the judges don't notice it. Who says cheaters never prosper?

[8] If you're wondering, he's just stuck in a single snowball. Just like before, Mikoto's powers in this case were employed to move the snow itself: the metal is tangential to the effect. In each case, the snow is the object being employed, everything else is just a vehicle. Not letting her do that would be like telling the magician's "You have to cast spells based around snow, but you can't use runes or other tools in the process, just more snow. Make snow magic out of only snow." Such restrictions would make the whole concept pointlessly limited: instead it is about using normal magic to capitalize on your surroundings.

[9] It's not like she tried to feel out the metal in the clothing on purpose; again, she hardly counted it as an ability being so used to it.

[10] I looked this up! Apparently it's a thing. In this case, I'm assuming this wizard is a Jewish Kabbalah specialist: if the Anglican church lets Norse stuff get in, can they really complain about anything else?

[11] I wonder how many people expected this. If you're not familiar it's from the earlier times. It's not exactly clear HOW the ship is normally created, but Agata has a unique claim to being able to do this. She was the pilot of one of those ships back in that arc, and exerted significant control over one. My theory is that, though the ships ARE artifacts technically, they all represent a spell given shape: think about how the ships were a creation designed with an idea in mind. The ships, I expect, don't constantly exist as ice-hulks floating around somewhere until they are needed. They likely are just formed from the water nearby, and then powered into existence as long as they are needed. Since a lot of energy is needed to make ocean-water freeze (it being warmish and salty) I imagine it'd be much easier to use freshwater that is already frozen. Hence, Snow ship. Still, she's only one girl, so one ship will have to do.

[12] This seems like the sort of spell an Amakusa would have, and it makes sense to incorporate snow since it is close to ice. Note that she did not MAKE the snow ice, but packed it hard before setting up the spell. Not cheating!

[13] To Mikoto's dismay, since her team technically still had a 1 point lead.

[14] Somewhere between apoplectic and apocalyptic, if you're wondering. Also, don't forget how cozy to the royal family Touma is. I was going to expand this into a larger joke, but this chapter is freakin long enough.


	33. Part 2: Interlude 1

**So, bit of news.**

 **We're in for another hiatus.**

 **No, there's no good news to accompany that, unless "It won't be too long" is good news. Basically, it's time for a lot of busyness for me. 1) I have to mark final papers starting Monday, so that'll take 30+ hours of my time for at least a week. 2) My other job is doubling hours for the month of November, and I can do nothing about that either. 3) Index NT 14 is coming out: it's not that I don't want to compete with it, but I want to read it and get fired up to keep going in both my writing and my actual responsibilities. So, for now, my goal is to restart up my update schedule... Come December. If that isn't going to happen, I'll have for sure at least 1 chapter out by then, with more news.**

 **The interludes are also going to be a little different this time: they now obviously tie into the story, but just focus a little less on the main characters and more on the background details that are otherwise hard to show. Once again they still matter to the overall plot, so if you care about that reading this is probably a good idea.**

 **Interlude 1: The First Night**

9:48 P.M., December 25th: London: St. George's Cathedral, Underground Tunnels, Interrogation Ward.

"Is this not the way back to my room...?" Touma's voice carried down echoing halls, reverberating through passages he was increasingly worried took him away from sanctuary. After finally getting tired of watching Index eat, the boy had ventured back down to the sub-levels of St. George's Cathedral, but had discovered to his horror this particularly grim tunnel.

The walls were not merely stone here, but blackened by soot from low burning torches and scattered with accumulated debris. Though dirty the floor seemed well trafficked, scuff marks visible in irregular clumps. A dozen oaken doors stood sentinel in rows down the corridor, with windows of thick metal bars that revealed no light. No light, except for one: the very last door at the hall's most distant end let through a sickly glow.

"M-maybe that way is back to safety..." In faltering steps Touma crept closer, dimly aware of his own soft footfalls. All too soon the light was just one door away: he stood in front of the penultimate portal, mustering courage.

When he heard from the room just next to him a quiet crunch of flesh on stone, followed by a loud cry of pain.

Touma lost his courage. "WAAAAAGGGHHHH! I don't want to fight ghosts, please! No ghosts, anything by ghosts!" He tumbled back, scrambling on hands and knees in fright, unable to coordinate a retreat. A light was struck within that same darkened room, soon growing to a flickering burn. The muted cursing which had been leaking through the second-last door finally abated, and a face appeared between the bars in disgruntled indignation.

"...And there goes my last one. Damned candle ration, but I keep stubbing that same toe... [1] Now, who is it? I am trying to sleep, but if I'm constantly bothered by those skulking about..." Touma was finally able to make out the blonde haired visage peeping peevishly through his cell doors, putting a name to the voice he recognized.

"...Amazo!?"

"K-Kamijou Touma!? **You**!?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"...And I assure, I am NOT a ghost. Not yet, at any rate, though if the food they provide me is any indication I may waste away before long. The portions here are abysmal."

"That's a relief... To be honest, I kinda forgot you would be here. Say..." The scary thought which had been stirring in Touma's mind finally coalesced. "Are you actually stuck here? Can't you just magic your way out, with maybe some spell based on Santa fitting through chimney's to squeeze through the bars or something?"

"No, Santa himself is not real, nor particularly religious. Very difficult to weave a spell out of his iconography, even on the day of his greatest symbolic power. If I could cast spells, which I cannot while in this shielded cell, I would more likely cast an illusion on a guard and have them release me."

"And here I thought you only did Christmas themed stuff."

"Excuse me? No, no. That was just for that plan in particular. Why would I principally use magic that is only useful during a single time of year? I specialize in illusions: don't you remember? My mental manipulations, or my enlargement fueled by David and Goliath lore, where I cast an illusion on local reality itself...? Were you even paying attention during our fight?"

"Honestly? No. I was... Distracted."

The magician hung his head. "A pity. And here I thought I was putting on a good show... Oh. I see. It was the girl, was it?"

"A-ah? Y-you... mean Biri-Biri. Well... Yeah. She can handle herself, but, you know. I don't like people fighting for my sake, when it's my problem."

"Your problem? But... Ah. Perhaps I see... But, regardless. Yes, the esper, or 'The Railgun' as I learned she prefers. Quite a showstopper, that one. Keep your eye on her: she is going places with such potential."

"Yeah. That's for sure, she's pretty unbelievable. It really was a good thing she was there, though. She does has a habit of popping up conveniently to help."

At this admission, Amazo gazed at the boy thoughtfully. "Conveniently? But weren't you on a date? I would have expec-"

"It's not like that! Really! We're not dating!"

"R-regardless... How did you even get here, now, boy? Why are you in England, and in St. George's of all places?"

"I honestly don't know anymore..."

The two stood in silence for a minute, the defeated magician pressed up against his door and Touma leaning awkward against a wall.

"S-so... You wouldn't happen to know which way is out of here, would you?" Touma wasn't looking at Amazo, but in the lengthy pause that followed the boy could almost hear the man's eyebrow raise in humour.

"...That is a question I as prisoner should be asking you, is it not? What, are you lost? You are not here to gloat after all?"

"N-nope, I'm lost all right. This place is huge."

"My captors always leave and enter from that lit door just next to me. I do not know the way from there, but I 'Imagine' you can figure it out." Chuckling lightly, the magician watched as Touma straightened up.

"Ah, well. Thanks! I'll just be going then-"

"Listen. Kamijou Touma. Before you leave, I must... ask you something."

"Ah, you must? Well... Sure. Go ahead?"

"I know I am your enemy, but I must ask your help." The flickering light of Amazo's candle couldn't quite lift the shadow's from Touma's face, but the magician pressed on regardless. "I know I have no right to this, but it must be said. You are the only one I think can do something, so I-"

"You're not my enemy."

"B... B-beg pardon?"

"You're not my enemy. That Dianoid thing is over and done with, and you seem genuinely sorry. So, why are you my enemy?"

"But... I ruined your... And all those people... You couldn't possibly have _forgiven_ me!"

"No, I haven't forgiven anything."

"A-ah... I see..." Amazo paused, absorbing that revelation. "So, then you come merely to torment me? Is that it?" Touma spun backwards, fists clenched, surprising the magician with his ferocity.

"That's not what I meant! I haven't forgiven you, because that's not my job! I'm not some damned judge and jury! Everyone always assumes that... Just, do what you feel you have to do, and do it the right way from now on. I don't get what else there is to worry about."

"W-what are you-"

"So you say you need help? If I want to do it, I will. I'm not really that nice, despite what people say. I'll do it if I want to. And that's the end of it. So?"

"S-so?"

"So, what did you want to ask?"

"...I need you save Catherine."

"Okay."

"...That is a tremendous rel-"

"I don't need a reason to save someone, but who's Catherine again?"

"...I suppose I will have to tell you my whole story. Listen closely."

!~~~~~~~~!

A long time ago, or something very similar, a young boy was born in America.

He was not really different from the ordinary boy: he was rambunctious but thoughtful, mischievous yet sincere. And like many boys of his age and stripe, he found himself drawn to spectacle.

Media was pervasive. Everywhere the boy looked, he saw stars and starlets, politicians and athletes, sprawled across banners and heralded as kings. But most impressive to this boy in particular was the entertainer. The professional who could command an audience from the stage. The bringer of delight and worker of miracles. The magician.

What wonders they could work! What style and poise they carried themselves with, what displays of grandeur! And yet how real they made it, how accessible and familiar! Turning the impossible into the casual. Shaping expectations into reality. Of all this and more, the magician was master.

This boy idolized such figures, made them his heroes, where others his age followed stars or played games. Borrowing an old book of tricks from a library his spare time became dedicated to the development of his skills, his act; his identity. Despite all his practice, the most formative day came when he finally worked up the courage to perform his hobby in front of his parents.

His father praised the effort, and suggested the boy take up football in conjunction: this was not an unusual response to most of his son's efforts. But his mother wore a peculiar expression, different from the kindly beneficence she regularly bestowed upon her child's endeavors.

For though Terrance Bennett was not that different from the ordinary boy, as it turned out he had one distinction of note. His mother was a true magician.

Though disdainful of the nepotism other Protestant Magician's followed, mother Bennett could not ignore the fire in her son's eyes. Was it because she had been alienated from her own teacher and training, distanced by the petty politicking and squabbles that marked this continents wizardry? Perhaps the zeal she saw in her child reminded her of the youthful aspirations her father had tried to instill in her before it all came tumbling down. Regardless, in the end mother Bennett chose to not train her son in the magical arts.

Instead she sent him off to a private school in upstate New-York. The transition was a surprise and mystery to young Terrance. His mother refused explanation, and his father was demure in his objections.

The boy had no idea the true form his sudden change in education would take until he knocked on the door of the boarder his mother had arranged for him. He was let inside, and saw the mess of curios and artifacts that his elderly benefactor owned, being a shop-keeper it seemed when he was not leasing rooms. Or not practicing Magic, and now interested in a promising apprentice described by an old acquaintance of his.

On this day the boy was plunged into a strange new world, where that distant religion before paid lip service suddenly became more tangible, more important. And suddenly became integral to Magic. Not magic, but Magic.

For Terrance Bennett, aged twelve, learned the Truth of things, as far as it could be known, one late summer afternoon.

Though his normal schooling could not be ignored, Terrance's thoughts were soon filled with new aspects of his craft. Though the mentor was strict, even he could not disparage the child's devotion and zeal. Terrance grew as a man and as a magician, learning more and more, developing his powers and expanding his repertoire.

Until his schooling ended. His master satisfied, his school appeased, eighteen years young and full of vigour, a new magician stepped off the plane back home in Los Angeles and straight onto the entertainment scene. Working first small shows where he combined showmanship with a particular brand of illusion, this new entertainer made waves, made a name for himself. Soon that name was on the lips of many competitors and even more admirers.

"The Amazing Amazo" had taken the stage.

!~~~~~~~~!

"...But I forget myself. I ramble, and the hour is already late."

"No, no, it's fine! I'm sorry, that wasn't a yawn, I swe-"

"No matter, no matter. Return tomorrow night, and I promise I will get to the point more quickly. Yes, yes, go, Kamijou Touma. Get some rest, for goodness sake: I do not want to be the cause of your stunted growth."

Shooed off and through the door Amazo had indicated, Touma soon found a familiar path back to his room. But as he walked, and even though the magician had not gotten that far in his story, a certain spiky haired boy began to wonder.

!~~~~~~~~!

6: 21, P.M. December 25th, Local Time. (11:21 P.M. December 25th, London Time): Beneath a factory in Boston, Massachusetts [2]

Despite being something of a pyromaniac, the scene that met Stiyl wrote only annoyance.

The factory above was in cinders after the inferno had gutted it. In stark contrast it remained so when compared to the room masked below the ruins. And yet, though it had been at the centre of the conflagration, the secret room was somehow spotless, pristine. Some outside observer might have guess that time was reversed, ensuring the damage never happened. But those who knew the magician best would has suspected different.

The sets of runes involved in the process were familiar to Stiyl: given his methods, all too often critical information could be lost through a stray spark. Developing a spell to reverse the effects of fire damage was logical, not mention effective at forestalling lectures from petulant superiors. The effect it produced was temporary, but usually lasted long enough to recover the data. His work as usual took time, but even after hours spent this evening there was little to show for it.

For despite all his magic, he had run into a barrier. Something that Norse runes could not resolve.

"...How do I work this thing, spy?"

He spoke into the phone he carried, fully expecting a witty retort.

"It's simpler than the phone you're using, buddy. Just power it on and tell me what boots up, and if you see a spark don't blow on the embers."

His expectations met, Stiyl sighed and depressed the power button. The old computer hummed into life, its power fed by a long cable the magician had unrolled all the way down stairs. He took a seat, and listened to the directions coming from across the Atlantic.

After another hour of prodded keys, silence reigned. Finally, Tsuchimikado spoke again.

"So. We've learned nothing new after all. That woman really was careful."

"I thought this would be a waste. What a way to spend Christmas..."

"World security waits for no holiday, dude. Remember last Easter?"

"No one wants to remember that, spy. Just tell me what you've found out."

"Let me recap first, all-right?"

"Why? I already know-"

"So, after Academy City revealed to Necessarius, as behind-the-scenes partners, the information about the money transfer and asked us to investigate, we know basically the same stuff that Anti-Skill report filed. But, I have since traced the funds in England, and discovered two things."

"...Which ar-"

"One: the money was originally intended to be wired to charities."

"...Really."

"Yeah. All of it. This would be the biggest series of donation in history since... I don't know, probably something Bill Gates did. Anyway, that was the original plan. But obviously something changed, because I see world hunger hasn't abated."

"...Which wo-"

"Which brings me to discovery two: The money was instead wired to hundreds of separate accounts around the world, and from there shuffled about. It seems that despite the initial blunder which revealed all the data we have in the first place, the architect of this second plan was very, very well connected. Since they couldn't directly hide the path the money took anymore, they just made the paths more complex."

"So? We just have to trace it down. You can do that."

"If I had the time? Sure. But each transaction was made through unique pattern of ciphers and off shore secret security servers: it's not impossible to trace, but it takes a while. Considering there are hundreds of accounts, going through thousands of sneaky steps-"

"We just don't have time."

"Exactly. This problem might actually have had a silver lining, since there are very few groups with the resources to process that kind of task, but we already know the culprit."

"That Rosslyn woman."

"Yeah. She's behind it alright, through that company she used to run, and I was hoping this base was the key. It was easy to trace, but she clearly knew that. We found nothing new: she clearly arranged more important details like her master plan's secret flaw or a personal weakness elsewhere."

"Do we even know who this woman really is?"

"Yeah. But none of it seems to matter, really. She's gone missing, abandoned all her property and wealth. She must have a stockpile somewhere to live on, but to the rest of the world she's vanished."

"So this is an all or nothing gambit then."

"Yeah. She was ready for this contingency, or something like it. She seems to have planned this scheme out well."

"Despite not being a magician."

"...Despite not being a magician."

The pause was heavy. Each knew what that really implied. Finally the voice on the lines spoke again, after only repeating Stiyl's words.

"...No one respects the old boundaries any more, do they? Well, we knew times were changing." Tsuchimikado's sigh was broken up by static as their connection wavered. "Look, you can come back to England now. We have confirmation that the next phase of her plan will be here: the three batches of funds I've managed to trace so far have all point to a specific man in London. You aren't going to like who it is."

"I don't like anything." The magician clicked the phone shut, before stepping from the room. As he left, he wound the spool of cable back up, discretely leaving behind a few cards.

By the time he resurfaced the fire was already blazing.

!~~~~~~~~!

11:32 P.M. December 25th, London: in a run-down factory

"Is there a particular reason you wanted to see me personally this time?"

"No, no reason, Miss. No reason."

"You do trust the terms of our arrangement? I have always paid exactly as stipulated."

"You have, Miss. That you have. All good money it seems, very clean, so far."

"...Idle curiosity is an odd trait to find in a criminal."

"I disagree, Miss. I disagree. Yasee, I've always been a firm believer in curiosity. I like to wonder, and find solutions to mysteries. Like, how many cookies are in the cookie jar? Would Mama notice one missing? If I put a few rocks in the bottom, how long will it take her to notice? And could I stand the smack I'll get when she finds out? That sort of curiosity, Miss. Like that."

"...I see. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, Miss, no. I've seen what I intended to. I'll be off. And back tomorrow, never you worry. Though I may send one of my men next time with the goods."

"Very well."

Lanky legs tumbled out of the chair which had been set up, as the visitor rose to his full height. Long and lean, his thick coat could not hide the thinness of his arms, the general reediness of his bearing. But still he strolled away with all the confidence of a warrior, if not quite swaggering then certainly striding. Those lanky legs carried him down the hall to a waiting attendant, who though not particularly short and round seemed so by comparison.

"Did you learn what you intended, sir?"

"Yeah, I did. This ain't her real base, though: smart classy lady like that? No way this is her base. Still, I coulda guessed as much. Not the important part. Learned what I needed to."

For a moment they stood in the hallway. The tall man lit a cigarette with a cheap match, shaking it out before tossing it to the floor.

"Sir, I trust-"

"Here, here. Here's the money, quit your babying. I didn't forget."

"I know, sir, I know, but ever since Barcelon-"

"I didn't forget in Barcelona, I just didn't approve of the guy! Not my fault I didn't approve of the guy. Why would I want money from a guy like that? He had to go, same as his money. ~~~~ him."

"Money is money, sir. And as Treasurer, it is my task to-"

"Aaah, I know, I know. Come on, get. Let's go, night is young. More 'money' to be made, you bloody miser."

Together the two men exited the dump that the woman had set up for his requested meeting. He didn't spare it a glance; he had seen enough on the way in. There was a smooth black sedan rumbling lightly in the wispy snow: he stepped into the back as his attendant took the passenger seat.

"Good evening, sir. Trust it went well, sir?" The driver checked his mirrors as he spoke, once, twice, a third time.

"Of course it did. I was there, wasn't I? Course it went well. Huh, did it go well..."

"Yes sir, of course!"

"And, uh, hey... Larry? Larry, was it?"

"...Y-yes sir!?"

"The mirrors are still reflecting ~~~~. Trust me; I can see your ugly mug in 'em. So just drive already."

The car pealed off into the night.

!~~~~~~~~!

11:54 P.M., December 25th: England: _Unknown_

The woman stepped through the portal, back to her true sanctuary. If she was unnerved by her meeting she didn't show it. Instead she turned the requested item in her hands over, carefully to avoid its sharpened points. She studied it, forcing an understanding of it, feeling out its weight and heft.

Eventually the hour arrived. As it did, a light susurrus came with it, the sound of metal quietly scraping, grinding, clanking. The hood covered the noise's creator fully, but could not quite muffle the sounds of his body.

"Oohhh, yes. Yes, yes, it's time, isn't it? I'm afraid I do not know enough to help, my dear, or else I would-"

"No. I am capable. Stand back."

Without rebuke the figure obeyed. The woman took the rose and lay it down, in the centre of a magic circle, visibly green and gray despite the poor lighting.

She noted again the time.

She double-checked her groundwork.

Soon the moment came.

There was no hesitation.

Stepping to her position above the iron rose, she thrust her arms out beside her. They were bare, her coat abandoned: she was feeling too warm for it. She felt warming still as she power flowed from her, a familiar power down a new channel. Just as before a shape inside her something stirred, but it remained weak. She focused harder, and felt the magic come to life as she spoke the needed words. The sacrifice stirred then spun in the harsh light.

"...Cœperunt autem secunda die Nativitatis Domini, et dilectus meus dous streptopelia tutures ex familia torgueri."

!~~~~~~~~!

"...S-sister... Sister... Where... Are you...?"

"Hush now, brother. Hush... It's okay... Somehow. But... Who are you? How have you done this? All my work, it failed, came to ruin, but now you...?"

"I am the Last, and this is my role. You should know what that means, and your own role."

"...I d-do. The voice spoke of such, but I truly thought it an illusion, a fever dream brought by desperation... Yet here we are, in your debt. What is it you seek?"

"You are the Second Gift and Key. Assist me, and your desired world can finally be reality."

"Yes... We will help. My brother and I will help."

"But sister, what has happened? Who is this? And why are you so old? How long has it been, I scarcely recognize you, this is all so strange... I'm scared, sister, I'm-"

"It's all-right, brother, be calm. I'm here for you now. There will be no more mistakes... I _will_ protect you this time." [3]

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] I feel like throwback jokes worked better when I released chapters 3 times a week... Tip of that hat to anyone who gets this one.

[2] To those confused, this conversation begins roughly at the end of Amazo's story, but across the ocean in America.

[3] In case you're wondering, you're not supposed to know who all these new characters are yet, but there might just be enough information to make general guesses. We'll see though!


	34. Part 2: Chapter 5

***cough cough***

 **...It's still December, all right? At least I managed that. And Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays/Festive Equivalent/Bah Humbug?**

 **But we're back! Sorry again for the delay. I wish it didn't have to be so, but it did. And might be again, but in the words of the immortal poet, "I've gots to do what I've gots to do". It may be true that I enjoy writing this more than my real work right now, but it must remains secondary.**

 **Brief Recap: Our heroes, after dealing with the second Dianoid incident, spent a hectic Christmas Day in St. George's Cathedral. Now they will have to brave the perils of yet another shopping centre.**

 **Back on topic, I hope that the events of the first day were interesting for you all: it was much less serious and much more comedy than the end of part 1, but that sort of theming waxes and wans with context. I'm actually a little surprised people wanted more like that! This next part is going to up the stakes a little, but retains the familiar comedy of the series. I hope you can enjoy it!**

 **And with that, I welcome you to...**

 **The Second Day**

 **Chapter 5**

7:25 A.M., December 26th: London: St. George's Cathedral's underground tunnels

"Do we really have to be leaving so early? I barely slept at all last night. And my stomach still hasn't recovered..."

"Just be grateful I came down here to wake you up at all. Did you not listen when they announced today's plans last evening?" The stern gaze of Kanzaki was normally enough to awaken the survival instincts of a certain spiky haired boy, but personal suffering weighed too heavily on his mind.

"All I remember is the Queen daring me into a pudding eating contest. I thought I was fine at first, but when I lay down to get some sleep it all hit home. Is that how the English crown is decided? Because she was like a-" The Saint's hand rapped sharply against his noggin. "O-ow... No. I did not listen."

"The bus to Westfield London leaves in 5 minutes! You made me a pr... A-a deal, did you not? Regarding this shopping trip? It was difficult enough to get the time off from my official duties, and after that favour I arranged for you-"

"Ah! Yes, yes, sorry, Saint-sama, I forgot how in your debt I am! Please, lead me as I repay you!"

"...With anyone else, I'd expect that was sarcasm. And really, you just have to hurry up! There's n-no need to link arms and p-pull me-ahead-like-THIS!"

!~~~~~~~~!

"M-Misaka, you seem more tense than usual. Is it so wrong to assist a lady up the stairs? That's all I was doing, so was that electrocution attempt really-"

"YES. It was WRONG. For YOU to do it was wrong, at any rate."

They were among the last to load up on the bus; though already seated Mikoto had vacated with alacrity to dole out punishment. Now she lead the way back aboard as Touma climbed the short stairs behind her, rubbing his pride bruised by frantic dodging.

"It wasn't like she rode my back up or anything..."

"What's that supposed to... IDIOT! D-DON'T BRING THAT UP!" The flare of discharge struck the battery of dials and lights on the vehicle's dashboard, its path distorted by Imagine Breaker.

"Please, no, stop!" Temporary-Bus-Driver Orsola rose from her chair in panic, knocking Touma back outside. Despite taking his second tumble of the day his spirits rallied, scrambling upright from the snowy ground.

"Thank you! Yes, Misaka, let's n-"

"No fighting on the bus, it's a rental! Shock him outside if you must!"

"S-sorry, I'll sit down." As the esper blushed all the way back to her seat, the boy staggered weakly back on board.

"...one ever worries about poor Kamijou-san..." Head hung low, his depressed walk down to the bus' rear was interrupted by a sudden cry.

"Don't think that, Kamijou-kun!" His eyes widened as he spun, shocked by Itsuwa's outburst from her seat he had just passed. As he stared her resolve and composure faltered. "I-it's not that we don't worry, it's just that, ah... W-we trust that you'll be fine in the end!?"

He processed this perspective. "...So that means no one thinks they have to help me?" _Wow. That's honestly worse._ "Thank you for illuminating the depths of my misfortune."

"N-no, t-that, that's not w-what I-"

"SIT YOUR BUTTS DOWN!" The sudden wall of sound bowled him over: standing next to their cringing bus driver was Sherry, who had finally upgraded to a battery operated megaphone. "This thing is much better. ANYWAY, WE'RE ROLLING OUT, SO FIND A SEAT! THAT MEANS YOU, IMAGINE BREAKER!"

"B-but, a-ah..." A small hand plucked at his coat, and he was dragged to a different seat. "I-Index!? You saved room for me? Oh, thank you, I really... Wait. You don't have any money, why are you-"

"You're going to buy things for me, right? To make up for that snowball fight. **Right**?"

"...My misfortune has such hidden depths."

!~~~~~~~~!

"Well, the teeth-marks have faded." The vehicle's side mirrors revealed that much, as he absently parted his hair for inspection. "How do I not have more scars?"

"You're not going to look any better than you do now, no matter how long you stare at your reflection. Hurry up, you're in the way." Touma happened to be blocking the bus's exit, but as he stepped aside recognition jolted him alert.

"U-Uragami? But I thought you were..." _Why was my first impulse to say 'just a secondary character'?_ "...W-were fixing your sword!?"

"What the Hell are you talking about? I won the prize money too: of course I'd be here. And the sword has already been transported to Kanzaki's smith, so I have no reason to stay and wait at the Cathedral." Though all this made sense to the boy, her subsequent blush didn't. "And don't drop the honorific, we're not chummy!"

"S-sorry, I was just startled! Ah-hah..." When the daggers she glared at him left no visible mark in his attempted nonchalance, she stomped off through the parking lot in a huff.

Touma watched her for a second before bringing his gaze up to examine the newest shopping centre of his doom. Westfield London's large, glassy facade rose up imposingly, stretching off in many angles and levels as if the architect had decided 'screw it, I don't need to find my ruler' and 'symmetry is overrated'. The parking lot they were in was reserved for tour groups and larger vehicles to accommodate traveling shoppers, but even so it was packed. To his consternation Touma could already hear the waves of frenzied buyers crashing like waves against a shore of sales and discounts. "Why is it so busy? Shouldn't people be at work or something?"

"Didn't you know?" He jumped, unaware of Kanzaki's closeness. The Saint stole up beside him, clutching a small purse tightly to her side. She strode a few feet further ahead before turning. "Today is Boxing Day, the 26th of December. It is a British holiday here, as it is in most Commonwealth countries. It usually involves many sales, which is why the Mall is so busy. Do you have any other questions?"

 _How are you not cold dressed like that?_ "N-nope, nope. I'm good."

"Well, then. If you're just going to stand there, I'm going to go ahead to get a store directory, to find out where... w-we'll be shopping today. Ah... When you're ready, please come find me." Kanzaki sashayed inside, a detail which the boy did his very best to not think about.

Once the danger had passed he let out a long sigh. _Despite that deal I had to make, at least today'll be quieter than yesterday._

"Good _morning_ , Handsome!"

"L-Lessar!? Not you too!?"

"And what the Hell do you mean by THAT!?"

"Ah, it's just... I-I didn't see you on the bus! I'm just surprised to see you is all!" His hasty excuse bore the magician's scrutiny for a moment before she rolled her eyes.

"You know New Light has its own vehicle; we just decided to come on our own! Even without prize money, there's always funds of Boxing Day savings." But the girl's internal sin-switch flipped back over from its wrath setting to lust mode. "But enough about me... Why are you still wearing that silly old coat?" As he tried to turn away she jumped up to his shoulder, her cheek seeking his as she hung on his back. "If it isn't warm enough out here for you, perhaps insides we can snuggle a litt-" Her efforts went unrewarded as Touma fought the clinging girl for space.

"What, this? I'm never taking it off! This is the best thing I can r-" He froze, a feeling of utter panic spreading through his body. With creaking joints he pivoted to see Mikoto staring at their display. Her red-faced ire at Touma's situation had been twisted by his words into something far more uncertain. Finally he found words, squirming as he did in Lessar's grasp.

"...I-I-I MEAN, it's so expensive and is really handy for carrying around Othinus and plus I'm sure I'll manage to ruin it sooner or later so I might as well enjoy it while I can, right!?"

"..."

"..."

"...Isn't that a good way to just ruin it faster?" The awkward silence was broken by Index tugging at his sleeve, genuinely perplexed. Already on edge Touma jumped at her touch, but the nun ignored it. "And where is she, anyway?"

"Still in here." Lessar fell from her perch on Touma's back in shock. A familiar small cat took her place, worming into the light from his hood. "Stayed up late. Now I'm napping. Until someone big and stupid just squished me..."

"B-bi...!? Oh, I'll do more than squish you, you-!"

As the small girls stared each other down, Touma coughed in discomfit.

"S-so, Misaka, are you just, ah... waiting around? Something wrong?"

She jumped, her status as bystander shattered. "I-I'm not waiting! It's just... Itsuwa! Let's go!" Her hand snaked out for the nearest excuse, in this case the magician sidling her way up with a wrapped bag.

"B-but wait, I wanted to giv-!" Her pleas went unheeded, and the pair rapidly disappeared inside.

Only a few shoppers now remained in the parking lot, the bus having finally been cleared. Only New Light was left, the remaining members having left the van slower than Lessar. Though two went on ahead, the third approached the group: Touma attempted a cheerful greeting.

"Ah, good morning Floris. ...Wait, w-why are you sprinting at- WAIT STOP! ISN'T THIS STILL A HOLIDAY!?" Her weapon stopped just inches from his cowering form. "You said you wouldn't hurt me on a holiday!"

"...It's a holiday, not a holy day. Still..." Her withering frown finally relented. "...Fine. You get another pass."

"T-thank you?" Floris ignored his confusion, rejoining her comrades and disappearing inside the mall. Another sigh escaped the boy's lips. "Another day's reprieve. Why does she insist on fighting me?" _And Why did I just get a sudden feeling of nostalgia? Or is that just PTSD?_

"Touma! TOUMA! It's cold out here! Come ON already! You still have to make up for yesterday to me!"

"And after you're done meeting your debt to the Saint, you also have to help carry all my purchases. Those toy accessories may be small, but I plan to buy a lot."

 _Why did I ever think today was going to be quiet?_ "Hurrah."

!~~~~~~~~!

"P-please, slow down! M-Misaka-san!"

"Hmm?" The sight of two girls, one being dragged by the other down a main hallway was drawing some attention. "Oh! Sorry, Itsuwa, I-I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay... I didn't think you could run that fast, though..." The magician plopped onto a nearby bench, but her relief faded quickly. "And, I'm sorry..."

"Ah? No, I'm the one who dragg-"

"I tried what you said, Misaka-san."

"Ah? What? I mean, pardon?"

"I tried to be myself and be supportive, just like you said, but... He took it the wrong way. I'm so embarrassed..."

"E...eh..." The esper finally processed what their conversation was actually about, face reddening. Seeing this Itsuwa backpedaled, hands waving furiously with misplaced concern.

"Oh! But it wasn't your advice's fault! Please don't take my failure the wrong way, I'm really appreciative of your help! Especially after I thought that you had fee-"

"PLEASE! Please stop! Just..." It took Mikoto a moment to notice she had pressed her hands against the magician's surprised mouth. She wrenched them away, running them both through her hair as she leapt back. "A-agh... L-let's just go window-shop for a bit and come back to the plan later? Calm down a little? Unwind? De-stress? That sort of thing."

"Okay, if you suggest so... And then we can follow him and see what he likes?"

"...Yeah. Then, t-that." _I mean, there's not wrong or weird about that. Right? Right. Thanks, internal me. I'm glad you agree. And while I'm at it, you can can figure a way out of this hole I've dug for myself._ [1]

"So, where did you want to go, Misaka-san?"

"Well... There was this certain dress I saw back home that I really liked, though I don't think they carry the brand here..."

"Ah, okay. I was also curious about this temporary art gallery they have..."

!~~~~~~~~!

"What exactly are you looking at? It's hard to get your honest opinion if-"

"It's great, really, seems good." From the corner of his eye, Touma noted his debtor's lack of movement. Up until now, when she had pushed a garment his direction, the vague appreciative noises he made had been enough to either add an article to the pile or send it and the saint back to the racks. He didn't know what answer she was looking for, since his response never changed and she made her own choice apparently at random. But this time she seemed to be glaring at him, frustration visible. "O-oh, sorry, did I miss something?"

"Are you even listening to me!? And WHY are you always staring upwards at the ceiling!?"

"Because he's a baby."

"Othi-chan, please, that's-"

"Touma is afraid of malls!"

"Index, that's... Wait. That's actually true, but I have good reason-"

"So it's not because of m-me..." Shaking her head, the Saint stepped closer, leaning in to the embarrassed boy. "But then what could be here that YOU are afraid of?"

"A quicker answer would be what am I not afraid of..." But he shook his head, for beyond the normal reason to fear shopping centres like this there was an added terror. "But the real problem is that! **Those** things!" He gestured at a nearby support pillar, and the girls followed it all the way up.

The tall white support structure ended in a spread of branch-like protrusions, supporting the ceiling as if it was a canopy of glass leaves. They reached 40 feet in places and created large open spaces which sub-levels of shops peeked out into. Though the crowded halls bustled with motion, no one else seemed to be giving the engineering marvels much attention.

"What's wrong with them?"

"What's wrong!? Just look; they're all random and spindly and holding up a potential shards of razor death! This place looks criminally unsafe, and I've been to the Dianoid so that means something! I can just see it all shattering overhead, bringing down a wave of unavoidable pain. That's the sort of thing that happens to me in malls!"

Though her disbelief was clear, Kanzaki tried met the boy halfway. "I'm sure they are sound. And even if you really were that monumentally unlucky, you forget I am present. I can easily get us to safety in time to avoid a threat as mundane as that."

"Ah... Hey! That's true!"

His fears momentarily alleviated, Touma took the time to think about what he was exactly doing. Already two bags hung from each of his arms, full of various designer jeans. He even vaguely recalled a few light shirts being thrown into the mix. A thoughtful frown etched furrows on his brow, a change the Saint witnessed.

"What is it? What are you thinking about now?"

"Kanzaki-san, why are you even clothes shopping? You only ever wear the same things, even if they have holes-"

"The holes have a purpose, you know that! It part of the asymmetry spell w-which..." She waited with a blush for the passerby who were startled by her outburst to move on. "N-nevermind... But despite that spell, though durable, even my outfit needs new base materials at time: these brands are generally very long-lasting, and I take the chance to stock spares when the chance arises. Besides that, the place I normally buy from isn't open on holidays. That lazy fool..." [2]

"Ah. And I thought you just wore the same outfit everyday like me because you were _lazy_..."

"L-lazy?" Horror shadowed her face. "Y-you think I'm..."

"You don't do it because you're _lazy_ , Imagine Breaker, you do it because you're a _slob_." Othinus' interjection did not calm the saint down any.

"S-slob!?" Kanzaki's complexion paled as the top she currently held trembled like a leaf in the wind. "I-I-I'm not a s-slob, it's-it's..."

"Look, Othi-chan, I'm a student on a budget, I have to be _cheap_! When there's a sale on a particular shirt, I can't-"

"CH-CH-CHEAP!?" It proved too much for Kanzaki. Faster than the eye could follow the bags from Touma's arms disappeared. The air whipped around him, and he just barely caught sight of the saint speeding down the hall as random shoppers were shocked by a rushing wind.

"W-wait, Kanzaki-san, what about...?"

"I don't think she can hear you anymore, Touma. Though she is a Saint, so maybe she can."

He stood there with Index, each pondering their own concerns.

Suddenly the boy came to a conclusion.

"Hey! Do that mean I'm done shopping for her? That wasn't any worse than I expected it would be." He leafed through the small wallet Orsola had pressed into his hands earlier. "... And I've actually still got some of that prize money left!? Maybe I can-"

"Buy me food!?"

"...Yes. Buy you food. That was the rest of my sentence."

"YAY! FOOOOOOOOD-COOOOOUUURRRRTTT!"

She plucked one of his now unburdened hands and dashed towards an escalator, taking them up to the next floor. Though Othinus grumbled at the bumpy ride she remained safely tucked away no matter the violence of the little nun's tugs, who was oblivious to the world in her hungry quest. After a few feeble attempts to calm Index down the Magic-God leaned forward in her the hood, muttering bitterly to her captive audience.

"Ugh... I might start to hate malls as much as you at this rate."

"Mmm."

"Since I've met you every one I've been inside has been annoying. Then again, the common factor in this equation IS you..."

"Mmhmm."

"Are you even listening to me, Imagine Breaker? I have very immediate access to unprotected neck, you do know that?"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm listening. Necks, gotcha."

"You're not listening."

"What? Ah, n-no, I guess not."

"She's fine, you know."

"I know, it's just-W-WAIT, what!? You mean-"

"Don't yell! Gah, my ears... Yes, I mean the nun. I can tell you've been more careful around her than normal, ever since we arrived at the Cathedral. It's real obvious, and real annoying."

Though he finally gave his conversation with the Magic-God more attention, his gaze fell again on the back of the white hood bobbing excitedly ahead of him. "It's hard to explain."

"I don't really care but it's stupid to watch, so sort it out."

"I haven't seen her like that since... Her face, looking like that... Is one of the first memories I have."

"I see."

"I know she's strong, I can see it, even when she's hurting. But..." He sighed even as he jogged, lead weaving through the lines of temporary stalls. "I don't like to see her upset. Back then or now, I just don't like it."

"Well, you're an idiot, not a total ~~~hole, so I'm not surprised."

"Gee, Othi-chan, that's the nic-"

"Quiet, or I'll rescind that. Look, does she seem to be suffering right now?"

"Well, aside from hunger..." She did have a ravenous look the few times she had seen her face as she scanned around for directions. "I guess not."

"Save your worry for when it matters then. I'll bet, though it's not like I care, that she'd prefer normalcy over delicacy right now."

"So you think she'd rather eat something familiar? Do you mean English familiar, or Jap-"

"Not that kind of delicacy! [3] I mean, she'd rather have you act normal than treat her like she's different. I bet that's how you've felt, too, after your experiences."

"I-I guess so..."

"Plus she's gotten herself new protection: though nowhere near impervious, the Walking Church artifact is potent enough armor. You ought to be worrying less, not more."

"All-right, all-right, you win, stop twisting my ear already!"

He bumped into Index, who had stopped abruptly.

"Touma, what are you two talking about? Why am I not invited? Is it about me!?"

"Mean things only, I assure you."

"O-Othi-chan, don't-"

"TOUMA!"

"Please, we talked about biting in public! Besides, you should save your teeth for the food right!?"

Though he barely managed to hold the outraged girl back, his pleas came just fast enough.

"Hmmph! You're going to have to buy me even more food now, you know!?"

"I didn't realize there was a limit before." But he smiled, glancing around. Then he frowned. "Aaahh, Index, this doesn't look like the food court."

"Uhm, I followed the signs..." But her certainty faded.

"Did you read them carefully?"

"There was a picture! It looked like a plate, with lots of different food on it! And there were French words, French always means food! Croissants, Crème brûlée, Omelette du fromage... [4] It had to the right way! Look, there is the picture again, right there!"

" _E_ _xposition d'art: Reliques de la France Médiévale_..."

"Othinus, you speak French!?"

"I speak several languages. I've had plenty of time to practice. And nun, if you eat anything in there you'd probably cause an international incident."

"...B-"

"No, it would not be tasty. Look, actually read the sign this time; the English is below."

Index soon realized her mistake. Touma leaned in with her, nodding in time with his ward despite his utter lack of understanding.

"Ah! It's an art display! But the plate of colourful food..."

"Now that I look at it, that does look like an artist's palette. But, Othi-chan, does it say why they are showing art in a mall? I mean, it couldn't be for sale, right? Tell me such ridiculous works are not for sale." He stared at the door way, leading deeper into an otherwise unused store. Temporary walls were erected inside to create a pathway guiding tourists through the various sites. It seemed moderately popular already.

"No, Imagine Breaker, you don't have to imagine your wallet emptying. It's just a short term display set up for paid tours. Sometimes in high class places, people like to cultured diversions. Some malls even have amusement parks in them, or golf courses on roofs, or-"

"I've heard enough! Let's just get out of here! To the food-court!" He picked up Index and carried both his charges away from the ultra-classy exhibit. "Food at least I understand buying. Even if it's priced in English pounds..."

Though Index's navigation had failed, dumb luck placed the food court close to the collection of French art anyway. He gave the excited nun give his order, smiling idly at the busy staff as she listed off what he assumed was his sandwich before rattling off her substantially larger list in English. The cashier was a consummate professional, eyes perfectly glossed over in boredom as he neatly tallied up her growing demands.

"Is letting the nun order a good idea?"

"I don't have any choice. Last time I tried to get food in a different country the city almost blew up." [5]

"You just don't want to fail at speaking English."

"B-besides, she's just burning through the prize money! I brought enough from Academy City that we won't starve either way, so don't worry."

As he stood back, he cast his eyes about the Mall. He was vaguely surprised they didn't stand out more, but London was such a cosmopolitan centre that an Asian boy and girl in religious robes warranted no more than a glance.

"Okay! Ready!" A sandwich-laden tray was pressed into his hands, but before he could find a table he noticed Index struggling under her own load. "G-g-gh... O-o-okay, l-let's go!" He gave a little grin before adopting a shocked tone.

"Ah? I hear a familiar voice, but I can't see anyone..."

"Hey! I'm right here!"

"Is there someone carrying that mountain of food? I can't tell, it's just too tall-"

"TTTTOOOOUMMMAAAA!"

"A-ah-ARGH! H-how are you even able to still bite me like that!? I thought I was saaafffe!"

One altercation and two worried security guards later, they finally made way to a nearby table. There the boy watched the blur of sweets and white cloth that was Index with an easy smile, passing the last few bites of his sandwich up to his hood.

"Really. Steak and cheese."

"What? I don't often get beef, and it seems weird to order something Japanese when in England. And since even Index can't eat enough to burn through _all_ this prize money, I can spoil myself for once!"

"Mmmph."

"It's quite fine, say 'thanks for the food Kamijou-san' by not getting crumbs down my shirt. Now excuse me, I have a date with lady nap-time..."

!~~~~~~~~!

"I thought by now he would be doing some shopping of his own... And now I'm getting hungry."

"Misaka-san, do you want to go down and get something? There seem to be some-"

"N-no! I'm fine! Really!"

Across the floor a yawning boy jerked upright and glanced around the food court, but couldn't find the noise that disturbed him. After a second he leaned back forward onto the table, his companion continuing to scarf down everything in reach.

Mikoto and Itsuwa peaked around the pillar, the former breathing a sigh of relief. Yet she jumped when a finger from the latter jabbed her in the shoulder.

"...And do we really have to be hiding like this?"

"Do you want him to find out we're spying?"

The magician's face flushed red. "N-no!"

"Well, me either! He'll bug me about it for weeks if he finds out, that Idiot."

"You're taking this so seriously, Misaka-san... You even bought binoculars! You're such a great help, I don't know what to say..."

"...please don't remind me..."

"Pardon me, Mi-"

"Never mind! N-never mind. Let's just, go for a bit. They'll probably be here when we get back. We need to keep our spirits up, you know! Stakeouts are tough."

"You're right, they are always the most trying of my missions with the Amakusa..."

"What exactly are you two being so furtive about?" The girls jumped at the sudden third voice. They twisted as one to see Lessar, who had stolen up on their position unnoticed. "What are you up to?"

"N-nothing! At all! We're just relaxing, talking, y-you know!? About how... S-shopping can be tiring... Eheh...H-heh..." Mikoto's bluff was inspected for a few moments of tense silence.

"...Whatever. You really need more stamina, if you want to win our contest."

"Contest? Misaka-san, wh-"

"N-nevermind! Look, rather than grilling us, what exactly do YOU want, brat!?"

"Since you're not doing anything exciting, I was looking to go find lover boy. Have you seen him?"

"Wha? Who do...!" Mikoto blushed crimson, faltering for words. Worse yet, beside her she felt Itsuwa come unglued.

"W-well... A-ah... L-Lessar-san, you see-"

"I saw him walking past the art gallery!" The esper blurted, eyes wide. Once again, she felt her response carefully scrutinized.

"...That doesn't sound like a lie. But would he really... " The New Light magician pondered for a moment before shrugging. "Well, he's not here anyway, so that boring art gallery is at least worth a shot. Enjoy your 'rest', esper. I, for one, have work to do."

She sauntered away, but Mikoto's relief was abruptly disrupted by the sudden hug she received.

"Oh, thank you, Misaka-san, I didn't have the courage to lie to her and couldn't think of anything else to say! I almost told her where he was, and she's also... trying to... Oh, I'm hopeless." Itsuwa seemed chocked up to the point of tears, rocking her companion back and forth. "I'm so glad you're here to help me!"

"A-ah... Ahah... H-ah..." _This hole I'm digging has got to have a bottom some time, right? Maybe I'll pop back out somewhere close to Japan at some point..._ "T-there there... Let's take a second and calm down again, maybe? Come on, now, pick yourself up..."

They wandered back through a few halls as Itsuwa pulled herself together, neither willing to stray too far from the target. They passed a few store fronts, but nothing really appealed to their taste.

"And we never did find that dress, either..."

"Oh, Misaka-san, how about we tour that art show we saw? It looked interesting, and it just over there. The entry fee doesn't look that bad."

"Yeah, good idea, Itsuwa-san. If Lessar did go there, she's probably gone through by now. We can deal with the Idiot later." The approached, reading the sign carefully. "French Medieval art, huh? I wonder if it's going to be art from then, or recreations about that period..."

It turned out to be a little of both. After paying the reasonable fee they toured for a few minutes, taking in the culture. Apparently the concept of "Art" was also interpreted quite broadly: beside paintings and sculptures were displaced stain-glass windows and even selected recordings of music, recreated through headphones to authentically revive the sound of the time.

"...Or so they claim: they didn't hear it back then, how do they know? And did this tattered battle standard really belong to Joan of Arc? If that's the case, shouldn't this be in a museum or something? And is it really Art, exactly?" Mikoto pondered the deeper questions, but as usual couldn't find an answer that suited her. Itsuwa observed it with interest, having caught up with the esper.

"The information card says that's the legend associated with it, so maybe they just don't believe it is true? And it is fairly nice looking."

"I bet it looked better back when it was new. I guess it's ratty enough to be that old. I don't know if I'd call it art, but I wonder if it's real..."

"You seem very interested in her, Misaka-san."

"A-ah? Well, Joan of Arc was always something of a role model for me. Really interesting life she lead."

"She was a magician, you know, alongside being a saint."

"E-eh!? Really!?" The esper paused to take that in. "Actually, I guess that makes a bit sense." _Do I admire her more now, or less?_

"Yes, but the details have been lost somewhat. We don't really know how many stories are true and how many exaggerated myth. They say they remain a well kept French secret, but she serves as a powerful inspirational symbol there even now, much like St. George is for England. Perhaps even more so."

"You seem very interested in her, Itsuwa-san! Heh."

"I-I guess you could say she was also a role model of mine, too... I mean, alongside the saint I already know! It's not like I'd prefer a French saint, they're both very admirable is all!" Though Mikoto raised her brow at the magician's fluster, she let it slide. The walking path trailed off next to a wall of hung tapestries, emptying the girls back out into Westfield London proper.

"Well, that was a worthwhile distraction. Now, back to work."

"A-ah, Misaka-san, wasn't that his table?"

"Yeah, you're right... W-where did... Where did he go!? He was SLEEPING 10 minutes ago! DAMN him, where!?"

"A-at least the art was-AH!? M-Misaka-san, slow dooowwwn!"

!~~~~~~~~!

"Othi-chan, please, can you pick one already? I'm getting looks, and that cashier has been staring at me like I'm going to do something perverted. I can just see her finger hovering over the security button!"

"Knowing you, she might be onto something. Oh, fine, that one. The one with the working lights and horn."

Touma sighed, exasperation finally leaking through. "Where are you going to even be driving? Do you even have a licen-"

"Just grab it! I'm going to use it to escape that damn cat, if you must know. Now, pick it up!"

Reluctantly the boy hoisted yet another purchase into his cart. _At least this one is actually a toy, technically._ His Magic-God companion had already directed him down several rows, selecting wares among the various accessories and conveniences.

"I get why all this stuff would be useful for Magic-Gods-turned-into-faeries, but why does a young girl need doll-sized hair-dryers that actually work? Or tiny little make-up kits? And why does it all cost so much!?"

"Relax. You're not paying for it." Bearing no shame, Othinus peaked out from the hood to survey. "All-right, I think those are all the supplies I want from this store." This was the third boutique Othinus had lead him to, and was the mostly feminine of the bunch. It appeared to stock both the most exclusive brands of designer doll accessories and a clientele of young girls and their mothers. Neither provided the boy with a welcoming environment.

"Thank goodness."

"... _After_ a brief detour in the clothes aisle."

"But you only ever wear one thing!" He had to fight to keep his shout below a whisper; even so faces turned towards him in distaste.

"Yeah, but I might not ALWAYS want to wear only that. Besides, that outfit was for intimidation effect during my quest for power. Now that I can feel the cold, I plan to be more practical."

"Getting a little fond of that cat-suit, are- AG-GAAH! Stop, please, no! I don't need piercings there!"

Several outfits and tittering guests later, a depressed Touma was finally allowed to escape to the check out. His dead eyes met the severe bespectacled gaze of the prim and proper attendant. It was precisely this moment that he remembered he still hadn't learned much English.

The woman eyed his movements carefully, increasingly incredulous as he piled accessory after accessory through the register. _If I just push this money on the counter... She'll just give me change, right?_ When he lay out the swath of bills her eyes widened completely: after leafing she shook her head in open wonder.

"I can't believe you can actually afford all this... You must have one lucky sister or something. Are you sure you want **all** of this?"

"...Othi-chan, what did-"

"Just nod, fool. And try to smile a little, you look like someone has you at gun-point."

Soon his embarrassment was at an end, and he beat a hasty retreat from the high-class toy store. A number of woman shoppers watched him go, whispering things in English that he wouldn't have understood if they shouted. He did his very best to ignore their giggling, finally putting some distance between himself and the hellscape of doll-ish decorum.

"I can breathe! Oh, I can breathe again. Haah..." The cart trundled around the corner to another hall, over burdened with boxes and boxes threatening a tumble to the floor. "Now, where did I leave Index..."

"AH! No, no no no NO!"

"Oh. Right. The game machine."

"TOUMA! Touma, this machine is cheating! The game says if I line up all the lights I can get the prize, but no matter how I time it I never win!"

"It may just be really hard, you shouldn't get-"

"She's right, actually. Those things are total scams, meant to distract small children and sucker the foolish out of money."

"N-now, Othi-chan, those absolutely are NOT the reasons why I left Index here-"

"TTTOOOUUMMMAAA!"

!~~~~~~~~!

"So, what we've learned is...?"

"A lot of girls make him shop for them. God, it's a bad as I have it with Kuroko. 'Oh, Onee-sama, try on this skimpy outfit so you look more like a lady', 'Onee-sama, you're too refined for that Gekota sweater' ...Gah." _Wait, why do I feel this pang of guilt? I never do... that... to him..._

"...A-aside from that, Kamijou-kun also seems to get bitten a lot. I don't think the Priestess bit him at least, so that's only two out of three, but that's still far too many!"

"Well, going by his reactions he clearly doesn't enjoy the biting, so this was a waste of time."

"Ah, that's right! I nearly forgot why were doing this. We never did get to see what he buys for himself... Now I still don't know what it is he likes..." With every word Itsuwa sank deeper into her sorrow, finally crouched down to her knees. Mixed emotions notwithstanding, Mikoto patted the magician awkwardly on the back.

"Hey, hey! Perk up, it's okay, ah... It's only 3 P.M., right? The bus wasn't heading back until 5, and I think he's finally done paying back his debts!"

"So... You mean he has time to do what he wants now?"

"Yeah, exactly! So come on, we're in it for the long haul, up and at 'em! Look, they're already going, so come on, there we go!"

Mikoto pulled Itsuwa up and pushed her along after their target, trailing as discretely as she could manage. It took only a few minutes for her partner's spirits to revive, but with them came concern.

"Uhm, Misaka-san, are they going back to the food-court?"

The esper paused for a second before realizing Itsuwa was right. "What, are they hungry again? That's not like him. He knows the church is feeding us tonight, there's no way he'd buy more food here..."

They followed a little further, passing through the food court entirely. Though disbelieving at first, soon Mikoto stared reality in the face.

"He's actually going to see the GALLERY!? Why would he do that!? Does he not know it costs money!?"

"Maybe he has some taste for-"

"There's no chance of that, he couldn't tell the difference between a Rembrandt and a Van Goht! Why is... Argh, that's IT! I've had enough! We're not wasting more time on his Idiotic diversions! We're doing this the fast way!"

"Misaka-san, wait! Where are we going noooowww-!?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"Oooohh... You know, I thought he would be shorter."

"That's not Napoleon, you ignoramus, that's Louis the Sun King. Though I wonder why he's here, since he's more Renaissance period than Medieval."

Touma stared at the sculpture more closely, but had no idea how Othinus made that assessment. "You know, I might not have meant Napoleon. It's not like he's the only French person I've heard of."

"Oh yeah? Who else?"

Index turned to watch their argument now, head tilted while the boy struggled for an answer.

"...Jacques Clouseau?"

"Ah! Touma, I remember when we watched 'The Pink Panther' too! Is he here somewhere? He's funny!" [6]

"Fictional characters don't count and you know it, Imagine Breaker. Is your history as bad as your English, or could it actually be worse?"

Running a hand through spiky hair, the boy looked about the partitioned area for salvation. "A-ah, say, there sure are a lot of people here, huh!?"

"Stop dodging the question."

"Anyway, this was your idea! Othi-chan, you're the one who said she was interested in the history, don't quiz me like this! I'm technically on break from school right now! I'm only here learning because you had a little money left over from your shopping spree."

"...You're right, actually."

"R-really!? I-I mean, yeah, of cour-"

"No, not that. Look. Hasn't it gotten packed in here?" As Othinus gestured from his hood, Touma felt himself get jostled about by one elbow after another. "When did this section get so popular? That doesn't seem right." More and more people crowded the space, while he carefully managed the cart's stability. At first he was just happy they had let him into the display with it, but now he fought for space. Finally the human tide ended, but something in their character stood out.

"Wait... Why do they all seem so worried?" Then he caught someone's eye and paled. "I-is that woman _crying_!?"

"T-Touma! Touma!" Index pulled at his sleeve with such force that the boy was forced to lean back. And as he leaned, he saw the last group of people coming in to block the doorway.

There were three men, all armed with sub-machine guns. The first levelled his at the crowd.

"All right, quiet down. No one moves, no one gets hurt."

The room settled into near silence. A few youth whimpered, clutched tight by their fearful guardians, but only one boy lacked the self control to shut up.

"...Such Mall-fortune." [7]

 _ **Footnotes:**_

[1] Yes, Mikoto is talking to herself. No, she is not going crazy. Well, not any crazier than how she started out, but that seems to be the level 5 trend.

[2] I reference here the Kanzaki Side Stories, available on Baka Tsuki. They are pretty good, but the best part about them is a certain shopkeeper whose attitude is pretty much 99% "I'm too sarcastic for this".

[3] This pun probably does not work in Japanese. I fully expect this to never be translated, so I don't care! Huzzah!

[4] As a Canadian, I can tell you the better grammar is to say "omelette au fromage" being "omelette with cheese", as opposed to what Index said, being "omelette from cheese" or something even more nonsensical But I don't pass up pop culture references when they can be forced to fit. Enjoy this chapter's random French language lesson!

[5] Touma references Avignon here, back in the original series of light novels: the events were unrelated essentially, but to be fair to him it was a pretty raucous time.

[6] For those keeping track, that is the second Steve Martin reference I've snuck in here. I don't even know why, I just did (note that Dexter's Laboratory didn't do a previous joke first).

[7] For a pun this bad, I need a smack. Also, abrupt cliffhanger? I wonder what this is all about...


	35. Part 2: Chapter 6

***Cough cough***

 **It's good to be back into the writing thing, even if it's taking a bit for the gears to get going. I used to have so many ideas that it flowed as it, but I guess I took a bit too long to get them all down! Conversely, I now have so many ideas and planned so far ahead, it's too much to manage. Part 1 was so simple in comparison to what I'm planning...**

 **Either way, at some point I might go back and re-write earlier segments to reflect some suggestions and to improve my style, because half of my problem is that I'm not longer happy with my earlier content in some ways. I really need to be more subtle about some things, and avoid writing this like I'm describing an episode of the show: things that sound right when spoken or reflect audible quirks don't always translate the same way to paper: it's a medium thing, I guess. So I do appreciate the suggestions, both those about canonical details and general issues.**

 **I've got to say, though: if I have learned one thing while writing this story, it is that the vocal elements of the Spanish-speaking Index fandom are absolutely against this pairing. That's totally fine and I respect that stance, but I do enjoy how uniform that response has been: It's pretty interesting in a demographic sort of way. (seriously, I've had no less than 5 comments pointing that out in varying degrees of politeness) I honestly feel like there are a ton of legitimate arguments against every pairing in this ridiculous universe, because everyone is either insane or oblivious. Which is why any story (in my mind) has to create room for ample character growth on both sides. In particular, that's why I extended what was going to be a one part story into three: there was no way to have a resolution that felt un-forced without more time. But that's all the teaser I've got for now.**

 **Back on topic, I promised I would raise the stakes last chapter: I didn't say WHEN in the chapter things would get interesting. For some reason, criminals have entered the equation: as for what comes next, well... Read on?**

 **Chapter 6**

3:15 P.M., December 26th: London: Westfield London Shopping Centre

Hordes of shoppers still ravaged the mall's many stores, revelling in the remnants of Christmas cheer, bargain-basement sales and unwanted gifts returns. For the most part they wore smiles, content in either holiday or capitalist spirit.

Which is why two exhausted young girls leaning against a pillar stood out from the crowd. Such was their only recourse, since every bench proved occupied and neither was tired enough yet for a nap on the floor. Their breathing was laboured, but soon enough one was able to speak again, stretching upright.

"Well... That's it!" Mikoto sucked in air for a moment, winded from her mad sprint. "We checked... EVERY store here... And not ONE of them looked... Like somewhere he'd shop. Or even browse at."

A few moments before her partner looked up, still crouched tiredly over on her knees. "Why do you think that, Misaka-san?"

The esper raised her hand, flicking fingers upright as she spoke. "He only gets the cheapest technology for his phones and stuff, so I know he'd just wait for a deal with a plan back in Academy City. He also doesn't care much about western stuff, so most luxury stores or souvenir shops aren't his thing either. On that note, they don't have a _Mode Off_ here, so clothing's out too." [1]

"You speak as though he's very frugal, but isn't this prize money? It's not like his savings are being hurt, right?"

"You don't get it, Itsuwa-san, cheapness doesn't go away in someone like him. It's been bred into the Idiot's _bones_. I mean, even if you just put money into his hand he'd be too scared about wasting it or having a catastrophe later down the line!" _Though to be fair, I can guess his hospital bills are pretty steep..._

"You keep saying he's cheap, but I thought he was your frie-"

"I keep SAYING it because he's CHEAP! Hell, I think he only wore that jacket because it was a gift, I said it was on sale, and it'd be awkward if he asked me-"

"That's just not true, Misaka-san!"

The magician's ferocity took her aback, but Mikoto rallied. "H-hey, aren't I the Idiot-Expert here? Seriously, I remember this one time there were these hot dogs, and-"

"No, not about being cheap!" Itsuwa glanced down, fiddling with her fingers. "I mean, I don't know if I agree with that, but... I do know that he loved your gift, he really did! That's why I asked you for advice!"

"Aah, well, you know, it was j-just that he really needed a new one, I think, it wasn't anything special. And besides, he liked your gift too! And it's not like it's a cont..." _Wait. It has become a contest, hasn't it? I really don't want to think about this. Why do I have to keep thinking about this!?_ Mikoto rubbed her pained temples, but no massage was enough to tease out the embarrassing thoughts.

She was grateful then that Itsuwa seemed just as distracted by the memory of her own offering. "You... think so? Mmm..." The crowd bustled by. "Perhaps I've been over-thinking..." The magician fell to brooding, but Mikoto was too anxious to allow her much time.

"Bah. It doesn't really matter now, does it? We already know he's not doing any real shopping. We might as well salvage this day a little."

"I don't know, Misaka-san..." Itsuwa turned away, but not enough to hide a simple smile. "I still had fun today... Usually I have go shopping by myself, or for bulk supplies for the whole Amakusan church. This has been nice." Her earnest smile was hard for Mikoto to acknowledge.

"...I had fun too, I suppose." _She is really quite sweet. Shame about... Anyway._ "But, it's not like we did actually ended up doing any shopping for ourselves. That's all I meant."

"Oh, I see. So, you think we should...?"

"Are you two _still_ just hanging around?" Once again, the unexpected entrance of Lessar sent the girls reeling away from their pillar. This time her expression was almost pitying as she stood before them, hands imperiously on hips. "I was expecting at least _some_ sort of competition."

Though still off-balance, Mikoto eyed up the magician's stance and made a hasty guess. "It's not like you've had any more luck. Have you even seen him once since we stepped inside?"

Her reward was Lessar's abrupt fury. "T-that's beside the point! At least I'm TRYING to win, esper! And how do you even know..." But just as suddenly, a grim smile spread across her features. "Ah-HAH. So you did send me on a wild goose chase. I underestimated you!"

"...Win? Underestimate? Misaka-san, am I missing something? And didn't she say before..."

Their conversation was derailed by a shift in the crowd's movements.

For once, all three girls reacted alike. They looked away, scanning the hall as their concern mounted. Quickly exchanged glances confirmed it.

Finally Mikoto spoke. "Something is up, isn't it?"

Her friend nodded, worry visible but focus hardening. "Yes. But what? I don't feel any magic..."

"No, it's just the crowd right now. Look at them." As Lessar pointed it out, the other girls noticed exactly what had tweaked their instincts.

Though the cause remained distant it was clear the passing shoppers were taking on a new demeanor. Easy steps became hurried and the gaps between groups tightened as people caught behind others sped up incrementally. It was as though an unseen effect was rippling through the crowd, just breaking now across the room from its origin.

A low rumble could soon be heard: the disturbance was coming from deeper within the mall, but neither magician could see far enough to tell what it was. An assortment of spells were cautiously readied as each prepared to meet whatever contingency might arise.

Though just as observant, one girl had an extra suite of tools that required no preparation. Her enhanced senses extended electromagnetically down the hall, and what she felt sent her pulse jumping.

!~~~~~~~~!

It had only been a few minutes, but Touma was already feeling cramped. The shopping cart full of Othinus' wares remained pressed up against a wall to make space for more hostages. Now the room was so packed there was standing room only. He and Index were unceremoniously jammed next to the cart, and her rising annoyance as neighbors elbowed and kicked her provided the boy with a new, more immediate source of dread.

To distract himself Touma scrutinized the two criminal assigned as guards. They were conversing loudly, but that didn't help his understanding much. From the way they were staring at him across the quiet but troubled sea of human bodies, he assumed that they had not only noticed his gaze were engaged in some analysis of their own. _I wonder if I should act more subtle... Can't draw attention..._ They continued to talk.

"... So anyway, what the hell is with all that doll crap over there?"

"It's not our stuff, just some weirdo, don't worry about. Focus on the job."

Their suspicious eyes finally wavered, their conversation turning inward. Seeing their lost interest Touma perked up, unconsciously straining to hear. _This is usually the part when the bad guys discuss something vital to their plans. At least, I think it is... I can just barely hear them out, but..._ "Index, those guards over there, what are-" His whisper proved not whisper-y enough.

"Hey! Shut that chatter, weirdo! Damn, you even talk weird." The first guard raised his firearm threateningly, but his companion sighed loudly.

"That's just Chinese, man. Seriously, we're in god-damned London, and you don't recognize Chinese when you hear it?"

"Hey, what are you implying? I like Chinese people! Hell, I like Lee, don't I? But he never talks like that. He talks normal like."

"That's because Lee grew up in bloody Chelsea, you racist-" [2]

"Keep it down, you schmucks." A third and final guard popped his head back through the rooms doorway, waving his semi-automatic around like a teacher's meter stick. "There's not much point shepherding everyone in here if people can hear you yapping across the mall and pinpoint our location! It's reasons like that they are already evacuating the place."

But the first guard just guffawed. "Ah, Hell, lighten up. You know that's all part of the plan. The Shark wouldn't have let it happen it wasn't part of the plan."

"All right, fine. I want you to shut up because I'm tired of your stupid voices. Happy?"

"... _No_..."

A subdued hush descended once again, and the hostages returned to their moribund ways. Most had not shown even the slightest initiative towards escape. There were few adults present who weren't elderly or young parents with small children. The largest group were in Touma's own demographic, youth too scared to do more than cower. In short, as a certain unfortunate boy scanned the room for the tenth time...

 _...Unless I plan to stand here until something changes, this really has become my problem._ He managed to not sigh out loud, instead hunkering down further, away from prying eyes. Elbowing Index for her attention earned a low growl, but he managed to hold her back from violence. "Look, Index, we can't just sit here like this any longer."

"I know, this is driving me crazy! It's taking all my nun training to turn the other cheek and not stamp on somebody's toe! Good thing I listened so well during etiquette lessons..."

"That's an impressively specific form of self-control, but not the point." _Did she skip the class about biting...?_ "We need to get out of here and figure out what is going on."

"Right!" The little nun nodded, thinking a moment before pounding a fist into her palm. "Hey, how about I just walk out!"

"Eh?"

"Well, I have my Walking Church, so I'm invulnerable. It can stop anything, even bullets!"

"Is there an optional face-mask in this version that I'm not seeing? Besides that, what if they just overpower you and wrestle you to the ground?"

"...I wonder if the Church of England's designer to incorporate some symbology relating to Samson..." [3]

"Don't ignore my objections!" _Well...Her plan would certainly distract them for a second, so maybe I could... but there's no way I can put Index in front of live fire, magical robes or not._

"Well, where's your better idea, Touma!?"

"I-Index, keep it down... " It was lucky their guards were just then conferring with another criminal further outside the room; they were too busy to ignore the building commotion within. Nearby hostages began stirring, irritated by the girl's frantic motions and sharp tone. Touma placated as he could, desperate to avoid attention. But before he could acknowledge her initial point a third opinion piped up.

"Can you two not just be quiet?" It was a clipped, precise English that the testy voice spoke. Well familiar with tones of irritation in many languages, Touma turned and bowed quick apologies towards the slick-haired man who shuffled forward. He continued in a harsh whisper. "Don't draw attention with such foolish chatter. Just wait, and soon the police will sort this right out."

A number of other hostages nodded their general agreement with the newcomer's sentiment, so Touma felt compelled to nod along and smile despite his complete inability to understand. The man stared at him and Index for several more seconds before sniffing and shuffling haughtily away.

Silence reigned for another tense minute.

"He's got a point, you know."

"Eh?"Touma blinked, confused once again.

"Why not just wait?"

"Eh? Ah?" He craned his head all about before remembering why that unseen voice came from behind his neck. "A-ah, right, Othi-chan... Wait, what do you mean wait?"

Though her face was out of view, Touma could almost feel her eyes roll. "You know, wait for the police to arrive? Wait for negotiations to start? Wait for someone better equipped than you? That sort of thing. It's not like this is a magical event: surely you can tell that by now."

This time he forced eye contact, twisting his jacket so its hood plopped over his shoulder. "Of course, but we can't just do nothing! You've got to see that this hostage stuff is just distraction, right?" Suddenly on the outskirts of the conversation, Index raised a hesitant hand.

"Uhm... How is-"

She was cut off by Othinus. "Obviously this is a distraction. If they were after the art on display here, they wouldn't hide the hostages with it. It draws too much attention. Furthermore, though you couldn't understand them I heard the guards mention that the police have already arrived. Yet they're not worried, which means this is all expected: no one is relying on having the hostages long. You've got surprisingly good criminal instincts."

"Hey! I just have lots of experience fighting criminals, don't imply-"

"But my point still stands. It's not like it's related to us, so let's just wait. They have nothing to gain from hurting us. It's not our problem." The tiny magic-god's crossed arms brooked no argument, but a fire flared in Touma's eyes.

"No. I can't afford to sit by on the sidelines." His sincerity of purpose caught the interest of both girls. Othinus merely raised a brow, but Index's wondered if perhaps, something in her guardian was changing, maturing. She had always respected his courage and sense of duty, but a new, proactive Touma was being revealed.

"T-Touma, are you taking a stand for justice...?"

"...Because at the end of the day, it always becomes my problem. If I'm going to suffer anyway, I might as well get it over with."

"Ah, no. Still just Touma." Her sharp sigh went unnoticed as Othinus rapped her steed sharply on the head.

"Lose your persecution complex, Imagine Breaker. Most of the time you walk into the messes without any help."

"But not all the time." Even Othinus had to grudgingly admit the point. "Anyway, if we just sit here, whatever criminal scheme they actually have going on might succeed."

"Well, obviously that's possible, but again; what do we care?"

"Don't be so cruel! People might get hurt! Where is your humanity?"

Index's appeal fell on deaf ears. "I was a God, nun. Humanity and I are not close pals. Besides, it's more likely that anything we do would increase the chances of violence. Hostages are rarely encouraged to escape on their own: it adds too much chaos to official rescue efforts."

A silly thought popped in Touma's head, but he soon realized it actually had profound implications. "Any more than a mall full of magician's does? Actually, I bet in a few minutes everyone will find themselves inside some complex spell and-"

"They can't get involved. It's a long story." Touma's sudden hope deflated, but Othinus paid his strangled noises no mind. "The better question is, what can we even do, the three of us? Don't tell me you've forgotten how well your hand words on automatic fire."

"Well, I was thinking... you're pretty small. You can probably get out of the room, find out what is happening?"

"A glorified scout? Well, in lieu of something better, that's at least an option. But who will I go to for help? I can't go announce myself to the public: they'll put me in a specimen box and take me to a lab somewhere if the secret services don't recapture me first. And like I said, Necessarius isn't going to help."

"Well, there's always Misaka."

This time Othinus couldn't hide her surprise. "What makes you so certain she'll be involved? She's probably with the others-"

"Trust me. She finds trouble nearly as well as I do." _Though that may partly be because she shows up so often during my own troubles... I've really got to stop doing this to her, but..._ "Either way, you're resourceful enough on your own, right? Aren't you always saying you managed to become a God through intelligence and hard work? I'm sure you can figure something out to help!"

"Flattery, huh? Don't expect me to blush." Despite her words, Touma felt a breakthrough coming. "But even if I agree, there's no way I can safely get through this room on foot because the hostages keep shuffling about. I'm not getting squished in the name of altruism."

Touma briefly flirted with suggesting that he throw her clear of the room over the guard's heads, but wisely reconsidered. Instead he mused alongside his companions, as they leaned over the shopping cart of doll paraphernalia.

Within seconds Index's focus wavered, and she began poking at the boxes idly. A moment of jealousy that Othinus got some many interesting toys slowly transformed into an idea. The Magic-God noticed the crinkling of plastic being peeled back, traversing Touma's hood to complain.

"Hey! If you wanted to buy a toy or something, you should have won the prize yourse... Wait. Are you... No. I'm not doing that. No, that is not-"

!~~~~~~~~!

... _Wait, are those guns!?_ "Quick, here!" Mikoto grabbed the magicians, dragging them both behind a nearby floral display. They fell as one, pressed up against the wall.

"What the Hell Esper!?"

"Misaka-san, what is it?"

Both complaints were silenced with a finger as a cacophonous shouting overpowered their conversation. Outside their cover the filter of people had become an organized stampede. Over the chaos a tremulous voice rose, amplified by an aging megaphone.

"Please remain calm! The nearest exit is just down the hall! There is no need to panic!" Its source was a uniformed police officer, attempting to appear more calm than he was. He headed a thin line of fellow cops and a handful of mall security, all doing their best to give reasonable order to the human wave sweeping down the hall. For now they seemed to be succeeding, but not without dissenting voices among their charges.

"Why are we leaving? I wasn't done yet!"

"What is going on!? Should we panic!?"

"What about about my sandwich? I want a refund!"

The commanding officer could hardly register every concern, but realized he had an answer for at least one. "Ah... Refund inquiries should be directed to the Mall's customer service department, not the Metropolitan Police Service!" Though hardly mollified the complainant surrendered to the human tide, which soon passed the floral display. Not one person paid the three girls hiding behind it any mind.

Eventually silence reigned. From the shadows the shortest girl finally spoke up, after peeking up to spy on the retreating figures.

"...Was that Scotland Yard? Esper, did you just make us hide from the police?"

"Yeah." The magicians' open shock convinced Mikoto that wasn't enough of an explanation. "W-what? I mean, they would make us leave! We can't leave, something is-"

"But those are the **police,** you fool! Why are we hiding!? Now WE'LL look suspicious if they find us!"

"Misaka-san, I'm sure they have a good reason for evacuating, we should follow! It _is_ their job!"

Attacked from both sides, Mikoto went on the offensive. "H-hey! It's not like we're criminals or anything! Besides, if we leave we can't find out what's going on or help! And we only get in trouble IF they find us!"

"Help? Misaka-san, we don't even know what is happening, so how can-"

"Exactly! We can't help without finding that out, so come on!" Mikoto took Itsuwa by the elbow and began to drag her protesting out of cover. But as she did she felt unexpected resistance: thrown off balance, both girls fell back as Lessar wrenched on Itsuwa's other arm. Though the unwilling middle link squeaked in distress from being pulled two different ways, all three tumbled quietly enough to avoid alerting the two figures who stepped into view.

"This area's been cleared, right? Can we send in the negotiating team?" A female officer spoke to her supervisor, who scratched his head.

"Yeah, looks good. We do this by the numbers, and get an outer perimeter set up just in case. Go ahead and contact..." Their footsteps echoed down the way they came.

Once again, Lessar peaked out before sighing heavily. "They're gone. God, this is such a pain." Beside her Mikoto rose to her knees while taking a deep breath.

 _Well. Nearly blew my stealth before it began! Can't get distracted... Just because this isn't Academy City doesn't mean people don't have working eyes._ The Level 5 took a long hard look at her unwilling saviour, struggling to extend an olive branch to her annoying rival. Finally she cleared her throat. "Ah, thank you, Lessar-san, that was-"

The magician spun back, frustration visible. "You stupid travelling tourist! What the Hell are you trying to do!?"

Mikoto's goodwill dissolved. "Hey! I'm just trying to help! And "travelling tourist" is redundant!"

"YOU'RE redundant! Literally! The police are already here, and this isn't magical business! We've got no right or reason to interfere." Lessar turned back to scan the hall one more time. "The coast looks clear, but now there is a perimeter to sneak past..."

Mikoto realized she had already been dismissed. "...E-Excuse me!? We can't just stand by and-"

"Itsuwa, do you have any transportation spells?"

"You brat, listen to me! Look, Itsuwa-san, you agree, we ha-"

"Sorry, I have nothing like that prepared. But, I think I can get into contact with other members of our group who have already evacuated and arrange a diversion." Lessar shrugged at Itsuwa's admission, pulling from her pocket a pamphlet with the mall's layout. She scanned it briefly.

"Whatever, that'll work. All-right, tell them we'll be heading for the East exit, and we can-"

" _ **Are you two serious!?**_ " The harshness of Mikoto's whispered shout finally attracted attention. As they stared she took a second to calm down, but the anger wasn't gone. "How can you girls be talking about _leaving?_ People might need our help, and we have the ability to _do_ something!" Her impassioned plea did not have the expected response; the magician's glanced at one another before Lessar finally spoke.

"You really don't understand how things work here, do you?" As Mikoto's eyes narrowed again, the magician raised her hand. "Hold on, just... Listen, how do the authorities do things over where you come from?"

"Well, generally they're either underfunded and under-supported teachers, on the pay of the worst people in the city anyway, or are the actual cause of the problem, so they don't do a whole lot of good." There was no hesitation in Mikoto's depiction, but she faltered at their horrified looks. "W-what? What did I say!?"

"Misaka-san, that's just not normal! I mean, don't you trust the police?"

Mikoto pondered a moment before shaking her head. "Not really. I mean, Judgement usually is pretty well organized, but they are just volunteers and kids without any real official support. I guess the closest thing we have to a police force is Anti-Skill, and at best they are just sent out to hunt me... I-I mean, track down _other_ wayward students. Either way, I trust my own abilities a lot more." The girl felt herself intensely scrutinized by Lessar once again.

Finally the small magician murmured. "...Just what kind of society do you really have in Academy City? Or is what you're saying some kind of cover for your own criminal activities..."

"I'M-... I'm not a cri... I-I don't break the... **I don't do bad things, okay!?** "

Lessar ignored these objections, instead taking a mental note. "...So, is it 'bad girls' he likes, or..."

"Aaaaargh... This is pointless! And annoying! And awkward! I'm going, and-"

"Please, Misaka-san, wait! Let me explain!" The normally reserved magician took a deep breath. "I imagine in Academy City it's different, but in England we have a long history of magic, and magical crime."

"Sure, I guess, but I don't really see-"

"In Academy City, would your Anti-Skill be the ones the take on the really big threats? Or the ones that go beyond the realm of normal experience?"

This gave Mikoto pause. "A-aah... Not usually, I guess, but-"

"It's the same here! As a magical country the temptation has always been strong to use magic to control the population, even with good intentions. But experiments that way ended in failure and chaos no matter how careful they were... Since modern policing came into practice, there has been a strict split between mundane peace-keeping and magical peace-keeping. Can you imagine how bad it could be if in a magical crisis, normal police tried to interfere?"

 _I've seen some bad things happen to Anti-Skill..._ "Yeah, but I still don't-"

"Low level officers know nothing of magic, but the Police Commissioner is technically under the command of the Knights, who work closely with Necessarius. To preserve the secrecy of magic and the integrity of the country, as long as the crimes aren't directed at Magicians or use magic, mundane forces have authority. The reverse is true: if the Knight Commander just sends word to the Commissioner, he'll pull off non-magical investigation and let the magical forces handle it. It's a centuries old arrangement: the penalties for breaking it are high." [4]

A lot of these details flew over Mikoto's head, but she was beginning to see the connection. "...You're saying magician's won't interfere in a... a 'normal' crisis, then?"

"`Not 'won't' but 'can't', Esper." Lessar finally butted her way back in. "Jurisdictional lines are heavily protected. At the highest levels of government, leaders are kept informed of the nature of a crisis: if it's suspected to be magical Necessarius calls off the municipal forces and takes care of things. Sure, we do all work together in the interest of national security. But state sanctioned magical groups are under strict orders to not interfere with normal police business, to avoid tension."

"So even if you want to, or could help people, you're not allowed!?"

"Well, you can protect yourself and family, that's mostly fine. But you have to prove you were being as subtle as possible or there can be serious repercussions. Necessarius doesn't play around when it comes to secrecy."

"That's utter bull-"

"I'm sorry, Misaka-san, but there are important political reasons! And after all the events that have happened on home soil in the last year English magicians have been under intense scrutiny within and without... Necessarius can't really afford to fight more bureaucratic battles right now. It's a matter of funding, of public perception, of careful alliances..." Itsuwa trailed off, seeing that Mikoto's visible anger had finally subsided.

"I see." _This all just sounds like a good excuse to monopolize power. Guess Academy City isn't so different after all._ [5]

"But don't worry, Misaka-san! The London Police are very good at their jobs! I'm sure that if we just leave and let them work, they will-"

"You said magician's can't help, right?"

"P-pardon?" Despite her surprise Itsuwa quickly pieced things together. "Wait, no, Misaka-san, you can't! Lessar-san, tell her she can't!"

The other magician sighed, scratching her ear. "Technically you're under the auspices of the Church right now, so if you get caught you'll be politically disowned in a heart beat. But you do have Academy City behind you, so as long as they support you..." Lessar finally just shrugged. "Well, I just wouldn't get caught."

"I can handle that."

"Wait, Lessar-san! We have to convince her to leave with us, not-"

"All right, enough dallying." Mikoto jumped up, darting from cover. "You two do what you want to, but I'm not leaving." She sprinted down the hall, ignoring Itsuwa's dwindling protest. The two girls sat in uncomfortable silence as the esper's back disappeared around a corner.

As she ran, she could hear the sound of barricades being erected deeper within, but for the moment the halls were empty. More cautious now than before, Mikoto took a moment to scan to for alternatives paths. She soon noted a solid steel security door on the southern wall labelled "Employee's only": She unlocked it magnetically without hesitation and darted inside. As she went, she snorted in annoyance, still worked up from her argument earlier. _Like Hell I'd be leaving a scene like this... Besides, I get the feeling a certain Idiot is wrapped up in this even deeper than I'm about to be._

!~~~~~~~~!

"This is not a good idea."

Frankly, Touma agreed, but resolved to push forward regardless. "It's probably safer to buckle up, Othi-chan, so-"

"Quiet. No one likes a backseat driver, Imagine Breaker." But the tiny girl reluctantly obeyed, in a jerky motion that conveyed more worry than she likely intended. "I'm still not convinced this is the only option."

"But it IS a good idea!" Index's pout showed just how much pride she put into her plan. "No one will suspect a toy car! And it's fast enough to get between people's feet, so it's perfect! All I have to do is get you outside the room, and you can sneak out from there."

"I hate this plan. And I hate this car." She punctuated her ire by punching the tiny convertible's plastic dashboard. "What false advertising. 'Just like a real car'... I was willing to deal with the colour choice at first, but now-"

"Othi-chan, it said on the box it was remote controlled. Did you really think they made working cars that size?"

"For 200 pounds plus tax they sure as Hell better!" She clamped down on her rage, but only just. "Look, just... Just get the remote. Let's go already."

"Sure!" The colour drained out of Othinus' face when she realized that wasn't Touma's voice. She turned, and saw with horror Index gleefully grasping the controls.

"...W-wait... Nun, do you even-"

"Good thing this came with batteries... Now, this button does-"

All four doors sprung open on the car as one.

"Gah!? I-Index, hold on!"

"Okay, so then this stick-"

The car rock back and forth, Othinus' spine only saved by her belt. She still collapsed in a momentary daze, holding her suddenly woozy stomach.

Touma had harboured reservations from the beginning, but his ward's learning curve began to strike fear into his heart. "Look, Index... Maybe I should-"

"Don't criticize me! It's not like you have a license! Besides, this is just like in a video game, right? I play yours all the time, more than you do even!"

"Well, I suppose it's similar..." That was all the response he had time to give, and all the agreement Index needed.

"Right, okay, I think I've got it."

"You think!? Are you sure you really know"

"Now, now. No one likes a backseat driver."

A beat passed as the Magic-God's addled mind absorbed that point.

It processed fully just as Index floored it. "...I'm in the front!" Car and Magic-God together disappeared into the forest of feet.

It was at that moment that Touma remembered he didn't own any racing games.

!~~~~~~~~!

Jack Taylor was an imaginative man, as far as criminals went. When he heard a small crash and pathetic squeak near his left foot he neither jumped aside in surprise nor turned his gun on the source in suspicion. Instead he remained paralyzed in shock, staring down in considerable consternation. Finally he spoke to it, hoping that might help.

"What's this about, then?" _This_ turned out to be a remote control car, now motionless. It was wedged fender-first under one of the temporary dividing walls, set up days earlier to segment the larger space for the art display. Had Jack been more calm, he might have suspected that the car had missed the opening to freedom outside, where he now stood transfixed. Yet his bewilderment prevented anything more ambitious than frank curiosity.

The car was pink, and painfully so. He didn't recognize the brand, much to his relief, but the convertible was certainly a high quality toy. Inside was another, fuzzier plaything, knocked prone by the impact and sprawled out over the two front seats.

"What are you mucking about with?" The voice of Harry Brown behind him stalled further study. Jack straightened back, and gestured downwards with his sub-machine gun.

"Well, this."

"...That a remote control car I see?"

"Suspect so."

"Ah. Well then."

Neither criminal seemed to know where to take the conversation at that point: remote control cars fell well outside their shared criminal experience. When nothing further happened, a Jack, for lack of a better thought, felt like perhaps their was no issue to consider at all. That came as considerable relief, for it meant he didn't have to worry about it any longer. It wasn't like the toy was doing anything else. He fell back into a state of watchful complacency until Harry spoke again.

"So why you playing with toys like that?"  
Shock filled Jack's face and he recoiled in affront. "Me!? I ain't playing, it just got 'ere!"

"What do you mean, 'just got here'? You think that doll inside, she just drove it on up, all nut-cracker like?"

"Well, it wasn't me!" Jack scrambled for an argument, completely missing the obvious out that he lacked a remote control. "I mean, I wouldn't play with this garbage like this! It's immature!"

Harry was unconvinced. "I remember that heist a few months back, when you started playing Solitaire on that diplomat's laptop, and you-"

"That's different and you damn well know it!" Jack scrambled for an argument as he felt his position slipping. "L-look, I'd never be caught supporting trash like that car! Sign of the times, it is! See, it's a convertible, with power doors and such, custom paint-job, chrome hubcaps: we're givin' kids unrealistic economic expectations, we are! How many kids gonna be able to afford that? I'd never be on board with shit like this."

"Yeah, but this sort of shit is stuff rich parents buy for their kids, mate. It's all entitlement and the like anyway."

"Well, sure, but that's just as bad, ain't it? I mean, parents like that are the other 'alf of the problem, ain't they?"

"I dunno, maybe..." Harry shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the distractions Jack was offering. "Anyway, that's ain't the point-"

"Ah, you're right, you is. It's the cat driver that's the problem, see."

"The cat?"

"Yeah, look at 'er!" He gestured down again at the doll. "Look it! She's just sitting there, as smug as you please! As if cats can drive. Kids don't need that kind of confusion, world's messed up enough."

Harry leaned past his comrade to get a better view. "That's ain't a cat... That's a girl, a doll dressed up like a cat."

"Well, that proves it."

"...It does?"

"**** yes it does! 'Aven't you 'eard about all them kids nowadays, thinking they can be animals and such? Can't validate crap like that, youth need to 'ave a realistic expectation of society. Sure, all well and good to indulge in a bit of self-expression, no 'arm there, but it's a fine line between individuality and psychosis, and that's right represents a one-way ticket to social stigmatization, it does."

"...It's a toy in a toy car. Don't be going all weird on me, like that Chinese bloke over there."

Jack felt such a comparison verged on personal insult: his eyes narrowed dangerously. "What're you implying, pal? You know full well my sociology degree focused on youth cultural psychology. Just an expert in my field, I am."

Harry eventually nodded, contrite. "Right, right. I didn't mean no harm, take it easy. No one is saying your degree is useless."

"Yeah, sure. All right then."

Both guards resumed their stance, surveying the room with renewed focus.

Until Jack had a sobering thought.

"Wait, didn't there used to be a doll in there?" He glanced over at his companion.

"Are you still on about... Don't you go all weird on me, again."

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] Mode off is a very cheap chain of clothing stores, based in Japan. This seems like a Touma kind of place.

[2] An affluent district part of London. You may have heard of their soccer/football team.

[3] One of the major stories around Samson, the biblical figure whose hair was the sign and source of his god-given powers, is that he wrestled a lion to submission. What a cool guy.

[4] Before you cry foul: yes, this is entirely my own invention. Why invent it? It resolves a problem in the Index universe: why hasn't magic in some form been noticed by broader society? There is ample evidence, especially after WW III. And before you note that many magical societies, including the English, have even within the Touma's lifetime have done the very thing the girls warn against, I ask you to consider what they were trying to do. There is more to this, but it'll likely come up later. For now, take it as you will; you might guess the hidden relevance.

[5] Mikoto being intensely familiar with complex systems of control over the use of incredible but unstable powers.


	36. Part 2: Chapter 7

**All-right, I think my schedule is finally getting to the point where I'm running out of reasonable excuses. I'm going to try and build up a backlog before I commit to weekly updates again, but for now I'm hammering out what I can. Once summer rolls around and I'm just working full time hours and not more (AHAHAHAHA oh gosh what is my life) things should improve. I'm going this between marking papers over reading week, as something a little more entertaining to do. Note that editing may be a little slack this chapter, because I've corrected enough grammar in the last 100 hours to last me a lifetime.**

 **One thing I did have time for was to finally make an image for the story, but that was a while ago. It should already be visible; for those wondering, yes, those Kanji actually mean something. They do not QUITE read "Holiday Season" as that would be too short to look right. Instead, I managed to insert what I think are my first ever puns in Japanese. I'll give away one element, because the second might be spoiler-ish slightly (Assuming I did it correctly): I used a Kanji that can mean both "Season" and "Opportunity". Dwell on THAT one!**

 **Ah, anyway. We left off with our heroes approaching the situation at Westfield mall in their own unique ways. Let's see how things can spiral out of control from here!**

 **Chapter 7**

3:37 P.M., December 26th: London: Westfield London Shopping Centre

In the darkened room, a radio softly buzzed. Two figures paused their journey, flashlight beams sweeping one last time down rows and rows and rows of shelves. Like minutes before and the last dozen times, nothing but merchandise filled the cavernous warehouse, stacking up three floors up to its shadowed roof. Finally a brief burst of static preceded a terse message.

"...Check in, Patrol Group D?"

One of the shapes reached up to his chest and depressed a small button.

"We're here, all quiet. What's up, control?"

"Groups B and E have gone silent ahead of schedule; missed their last check-in. Pull back down to the extraction zone, we're regrouping for tighter patrols."

"...All right, we're moving."

The radio died. After a short silence the two shapes took an abrupt turn, footsteps echoing as they made for the storage room's inner wall.

Suddenly one fell.

He stumbled, shouting, grasping for his partner but missing as he went down. He landed hard on his back in a crash that could not quite mask the soft sad squeak of the dog toy he had tripped on.

The dust soon settled and they continued. Rubbing himself gingerly. the man who fell coughed once, then again, before muttering aloud.

"Wouldn't have fallen, if it weren't so dark. ...Why is it so dark in here, anyway?"

"Relax, we have torches." [1]

"Yeah but I mean, people work here, right? When they're not evacuating, I mean. Why didn't they just install more lights? It's like, every hundred feet, one big lamp, then nothing."

"Probably cheaper."

"They ought to have been more considerate. People can get hurt."

"Look, we're the one's breaking in here, I don't really-"

The girl hanging magnetically from the ceiling decided she'd waited long enough.

She let herself drop lower, with practised ease laying a hand on their parallel shoulders. A brief surge of power quieted their bickering.

"Seriously... How can criminals these days be both so organized and so incompetent?" Mikoto shook her head in wonder as she scanned the room cautiously. _Well, it doesn't matter if they're already know something is up. Just so long as no one can pin it on me._ The radio chatter she could pick up on so far had not mentioned a young Japanese girl skulking about. As far as covert operations go, it was one of her smoothest. _It helps that the security tech here is equivalent to hiding your diary under a mattress._

The esper stalled only long enough to slide their bodies out of sight before heading deeper into the mall. She had gotten a good enough sense of their destination, heading now towards a pair of large service doors. They were cracked open, a dim glow spreading from within. With a light leap and a gentle flip she pulled herself upside down to a metal cross beam just about the portal. As she dangled her head could just peer down into the next room.

The room was smaller, it's ceiling well lit and exposed. It seemed to be a secondary storage area, cardboard boxes stacked haphazardly and in varying heights. Their contents didn't interest her, but a closed door across from her did. The presence of an annoyingly alert thug made it only more appealing. His alert gaze swept patiently across the room, but he could not sense the electrical charge building with his name on it. _If it's just him, I can easily-_

"Got a 2?"

"Nah. Go fish."

"**** off. Again? You *******..."

Mikoto hesitated. She let the charge dissipate before carefully leaning further down. The new voices came from deeper in the room, and with a better angle she could just see two additional guards sitting at a table, diagonally offset from both her and their companion. Yet they were still close enough to see him, forming a rough triangle amid the scattered boxes. And no matter how she planned it, there seemed no way to get the drop on all three without at least one staying conscious long enough to notice her first.

 _I know I can just walk in and shock them all, but I've been doing so well! I'd rather not get seen now..._ Her irritation grew in the minute she spent listening to their card game's next few hands. _I'll go all-in if I have to soon, but what I really need is_ -

Something heavy moved behind her.

Mikoto whipped around, but there was nothing. Nothing to vindicate what she had felt. Yet in a moment, she realized the truth.

 _That wasn't... That was nowhere near..._ The esper looked again, but this time with her magnetic senses, fields pulsing out into space. There was nothing moving in the room, but amazingly she felt a different source of power, something else fluctuating in the electromagnetic spectrum. It matched nothing she had ever felt, no esper or machine she's seen producing such an effect. And it was somewhere on the roof above her, peering down.

And no sooner did she feel it was it gone, shifting so suddenly straight up that it left a hole in Mikoto's perception. Now she was focused, intently following it in her mind's eye. But then it was gone, a strange mass of metal that she could not quite place.

She realized with a start that she was readying to follow it, torn now between curiosity and her sense of duty. Glancing back down into the next room it was clear no one inside suspected anything. _Surely if I just quickly break through to the outside I can come back and-_

There was a light rumble, and a box in the room fell with a crash.

Her plans derailed again, Mikoto froze. The card players stood up, playing cards fluttering to the floor as their comrade raised his rifle. For a minute no one moved, though all eyes were turned to the far side of the room. Nothing else came.

Sharing a glance, the pair slowly shuffled towards the sound's origin, drawing their own weapons. It lead to the far wall, packed with boxes that had been hurriedly shoved aside to make space for their guard station. The two criminal's closed in, circling and cutting off the intruder's escape. The leading searcher cleared his throat.

"Allright, the jig's up. Come on out, you!"

He was met with silence, but his partner picked up the slack.

"No one's gotta get hurt. Just come out, nice and easy. No sudden movements."

Still there was nothing. Their certainty began to falter.

"...There's no door behind there, right?"

"Nah, man. We pushed those boxes ourselves. So how-"

"Just get in there and look, you *****-*****!" [2] Cringing under their ally's criticism, the leading searcher lowered his gun and began to pull boxes clear, forming a path.

The mall shook suddenly, harder than before, and the leading searcher threw down the box he carried. But after a moment, and to Mikoto's surprise, he and his card partner shared a nervous laugh.

"Wow. Didn't think we'd feel that from here."

"Just get back to work." Their superior's scowl sent them back to work, but he did spare a moment to check a watch.

Mikoto was at a greater loss. _And now what the heck was that!? I know I was distracted but I should have felt something._ But the source of the rumble was too far away. _I guess that's a problem for later. Though now I'm really considering giving up on the whole stealth thing, if it means I'm missing the real action..._

The guard's made quick progress dismantling the blockage. Under both Mikoto's and the door guard's careful gaze no one snuck free. Soon there was only one place left to hide: 3 boxes, stacked in a rough pyramid that formed a small hidden cavity against the wall.

Cautiously now, the criminal crept towards the sanctuary. His arm twitched; pausing, he unholstered a side arm, holding it in his free hand. With one hand and all eyes on his back, he pushed on the topmost box.

Something skittered underneath it, bumping against a lower box.

He darted back, but held his voice. Nothing else happened. Finally, under the impatient but tense look of his comrades, he inched closer and closer. Before suddenly swiping hard at the topmost box.

It fell, and all three recoiled, aiming down iron sights.

But nothing happened. The room was filled with steadying breathes.

"...So what the Hell?" The door guard finally asked, shaking his head. "No one could fit in that space."

" **Something** is in there! You all heard it! Right!?" The first guard gestured, gun waving at the two remaining boxes.

"Oh, for... Get out of the way, George. Christ, no wonder you suck at cards..." The second searcher moved forward and, with the barrel of his rifle, slid the last obstacle aside.

A hush fell over the room. Mikoto's leaned as far as she dared, but one of their back's stymied her view. She reached out with senses but felt only a tiny bit of oddly familiar metal.

One of the leading guards made to shuffle forward, but his companion whipped out a restraining hand.

"Hey! Careful." He spoke in a harsh whisper. "You'll scare the poor thing!"

Puzzled, Mikoto drew in even closer. Luckily the door guard was similarly distracted.

"W-what is it? George, Drew? What-"

"Keep your voice down, Steve!" Chastising at a volume far louder than the offender, the thug turned back to their quarry. "Aw... It's okay, don't be scared, pretty little thing... Look, it's started shaking!"

"There there... come... come here! Come here!" Together, the Frank and George made soft cooing sounds, guns discarded at their feet.

Steve's control broke, and he strode purposely from his post. "All right, that's it! What the Hell have you got over..." He paused as he leaned over their shoulders. Finally his arms went limp. "...Is that a cat?"

"Yeah... Don't know how she got here, but look! She's just sitting there, facing the wall, all quivering-like. Shame... Think she's got a home?"

"George!"

"Oh, don't give me that, Steve. I'm not saying we have to take it in to the crew-house or anything, but, you know, maybe just for a bit-"

"Grk!"

"All-right, Steve, I get it! But, I mean, we can at least... Uh, St-!?" Despite turning as soon as his comrade hit the floor, the George and Frank never saw the shock coming.

"Huh. That works I guess." Waving away the light smoke that drifted up from their stilled forms, she glanced at her unlikely ally with a wry smile. The cat remained facing the wall, but it was no longer shaking. _I thought I recognized that zipper._ "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Othinus finally turned, carefully making her way over the bodies. As she went, she took a moment to kick one hard on the nose. "Do you think you could do that to them again? Call me 'pretty little' again, why don't you..."

"Sensitive issue, huh?" That earned Mikoto a sharp glance, whose aim quickly drifted a foot down from the esper's face. It took the target a moment to blush furiously. "H-hey! What-"

"Don't make this a thing, esper."

Pushing down on a tirade, Mikoto swallowed. "Y-yeah, my bad. We're allies now, after all." She prayed her forced chuckle didn't sound too awkward. "I mean, we're in this together right?"

Othinus stiffened, before glancing down at her own form. Just as Mikoto realized what she implied, the Magic-God shrugged. "...Guess so."

Searching for anything to break the silence that she had inadvertently produced, the esper grasped the bodies by their metallic buckles, moving them behind a few conveniently placed boxes. "Right! That's dealt with! S-so, what are you-"

"Trying to get to you. Imagine Breaker figured you would be around, raising a ruckus."

"Hey, I know how to be subtle! ...When I absolutely have to!"

"Hah. You make that sound so forced." Othinus laughed as she caught up, sending yet more blood to Mikoto's face. " But the Magic-God paused. "But I suppose I understand your position better than most. It's hard to be circumspect when you have unlimited power."

"Right? I mean, I could tear this whole building inside out if I spent a few minutes." They moved out through the once guarded door together, Mikoto unconsciously following the Magic-God's lead. "But instead, because this isn't Academy City, I have to be careful. The power grid here probably isn't as quickly repaired, and there's all this political crap."

"Please. At my prime I could have destroyed the very concepts of 'hostages' and 'crime' altogether. In fact I did. Several times. Just having to move a physical form about three dimensions of limited space is a distraction I'm not used to having."

"R-right." _I keep forgetting there are scarier people than Accelerator out there._ "I guess when you've got a really big hammer... Heheh..." Even Mikoto knew her joking allusion was awkward, but she didn't expect to see melancholy on the Magic-God's face. "...Eh?"

"...Everything looks like a nail."

They walked on in silence. The room had opened out into a thin hall, wide enough only for one. It wound back and forth in the spaces between stores, with occasional offshoots and ladders. Othinus lead them with confidence, apparently working from memory. It soon became clear that there were no further guards, the rest having fallen back further into the mall. The remaining radio chatter was unclear on that front, but Mikoto could tell they were well aware of the new element in play.

"...It's strange that they don't think we're police or something."

"What are you talking about?"

Mikoto glanced down at her companion before giving her a confident smirk.

"Ah, I can pick up their radio transmissions. Though I haven't been seen once, they seem to know I'm not actually a secret police raid taking them out from behind. They're taking about an "unknown quantity" and stuff like that."

"I see." The Magic-God took the analysis surprisingly seriously. "Perhaps that's connected..."

"Connected?"

Othinus half-nodded. "In that box filled room earlier, I thought I..." But after a moment she shook her head. "Well, I could be wrong. I barely felt anything, and this IS England. Magical residue is all over the place."

"Uh-huh..." _Why does that seem..._ "Wait, I-"

"Hold on." A tiny raised hand was enough to bring silence. "We're just beside them now."

"Oh. Good." Mikoto glanced about, sensing through the thin gray walls. "Well, judging by the belt buckles and jewelry, that's about 20 or so? Not too many hostages. And I only sense 5 firearms: that's-"

"Are you sure? There were far more people than that."

"No, I can tell. And where are we now, anyway? I don't recognize the layout of that room."

"The art display. They did move some things around."

"Did they also open up a huge hole in the ground?"

"No, they did nothing of the..."

Confusion turned to surprise. Then understanding. Finally, frustration. In perfect time, they slapped their foreheads.

"What did that Idiot _DO!?_ "

!~~~~~~~~!

Flashback to 3:37 P.M., December 26th: London: Westfield London Shopping Centre. Simultaneous to a certain Railgun's approach.

"Index, how are you still hungry?"

"What?" The little nun glanced up, snapping alert. "Did you say fo-... I-I am not hungry! Why would you assume that!?"

"I can hear your stomach growling from here. And after all we ate... You know there's no way-" Touma felt the rumble again, but he paused mid-lecture. Now that he was ready for it, he realized the sound was not coming from his ward after all.

She realized it as well. "Hey, that wasn't me!" Delighted, Index pumped a fist before it instantly turned into a wagging finger. "See!? Don't jump to conclusions! Rude!"

"Well, if not you-" It sounded again, louder this time. Nearby hostages began to feel it too, their worry spreading. "-then what _is_ that?"

The rising commotion caught a guard's attention. He stomped over, once again singling out Touma as he brandished his sub-machine gun. The boy shoved Index behind him reflexively, despite her protest, and the hostages evacuated a clearing as best they could "For the last time, stop being-"

The floor caved in beneath them both, amid one last loud rumble. They dropped like humans; that is to say, with a panicked cry.

A huge plume of dust roared up in a foaming geyser, ruining forever at least one priceless piece of art and drowning out any further shouts. The hostages fell to coughing and wheezing, making even more space as they scrambled clear. The remaining guards kept them contained despite their own obvious surprise, but hesitated to move forward.

The smoke soon settled, but the hostages remained paralysed. Though one voice preached calm in precise if worried tone, no one bothered to care. Instead there ears were glued to the chasm.

From the depths a single voice was heard.

"Whoops." A pause. "All right, Susan. It WAS another 10 meters."

!~~~~~~~~!

"God damn idiots. This was the one job your team had!"

"Sorry."

"I damn near broke my neck! All you had to do was come up with the tunnel in the next room!"

"Sorry."

"...Just get them down there before I decide to put you with Group S!"

"Right, right. Sorry." That final threat inspired some action. Other members of his team were already hard at work, clearing the drill they used to dig up from the basement below. As hostages watched with apprehension, a ladder was shoved up into the hole. "Okay, okay. Get moving. One at a time, unless you want to jump."

Index was among the first to be ushered down; she nearly took the criminal up on his speedier offer. She hit the ground below, eyes scanning nervously. They had been forced into a grubby underground, clearly part of the mall still but dust-laden from disuse. Those ahead of her had been shuffled into a corner, where they were covered by yet more thugs.

"Touma? T-touma!?"

A dust covered head straightened up, and the unlucky boy half-turned. "Ah. Hey, Index."

"You fell! Are you okay!?" Giving him the once over, she saw no wounds or scrapes.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I landed on the one of thee criminals."

"R-really?" Index choked back her surprise. "That's actually kinda lucky."

"Not really." Giving a sad grin, the boy turned completely to reveal a swelling black eye. "I think I landed on the one named... 'Susan'? And on her... softer parts."

"Wait, so..." The nun blinked, before her face twisted in anger. "...TOOOOUMAA!"

"No! No, now look, that couldn't possibly be my fault! NOT THE OTHER EYE!"

As he reeled backwards in pain, the general exodus downstairs halted. Dusting off stubborn bits of plaster, the criminal in charge held back the next hostage.

"All right, that's enough. Take them on ahead, and follow the plan. No more screw ups."

"Yep." The drilling team had already packed up their tools and disappeared inside deeper shadows, through an artificial doorway drilled in an otherwise unblemished wall. At a guard's gesture a thin line of hostages went through as well. Though Touma craned his neck back to see where those remaining upstairs were taken, he was knocked forward and forced to follow.

He quickly moved close to Index, and together they passed through a short, thin tunnel leading down at a steep angle. It emerged into a large room, bifurcated by large trench running down its centre. On the far side there was a lot more room: this side was taken up by another complex drilling operation that was still ongoing, this one aiming directly upwards. Sure enough, a large plank was quickly lowered over the gap, and the leading hostages were shuffled over.

"There's no way they dug all of this, so where are we now? I can't see that well any more..."

"We're in the Underground."

"Well, I guess that's true, Index, but I was looking for something more specific."

"No, I mean the subway!"

"Subway? Are you _still_ hungry-"

"TOUMA! The metro! Underground trains! THAT kind of subway!" [3]

As her blows rained upon his shoulder the boy was just happy their current guards were too distracted to care. Though a few still kept general watch over the diminished but still substantial group, others were fussing over a large set of machinery. "This might be the time to escape, but... I have no idea where to go."

The room didn't quite look like an old subway station: if anything it looked more like a storage depot, over two stories high. On the side they arrived from there was a large set of double doors, blocking what might have been a storage elevator. There was also the now obvious rail line running in two directions into large tunnels, but none of the other exits looked to lead upstairs. Even if they had, there were yet more guards in front of them. The last major feature was a large box-like observational room jutting over the station, its broken windows lined high on the far wall. So like the other hostages forced to cross the tracks, Touma and Index merely clustered beneath that box and waited, watching the criminal's arcane efforts.

"There sure are a lot of them. What kind of operation are these people even planning...?" As Touma scratched his head, Index's own perked up.

"I don't know, but based on where we are this looks like a unused parallel track running along the Central line." [4]

"Oh really? Good to know, I guess." _Is there a sign somewhere I missed?_

"Lately London has been trying to move away from using some of the older subway lines, especially those which suffered extensive damage during the disturbances of the last few months. It's particularly troubling to those in nearby communities, as before it's closure the Central Line west of the London Eye offered one of the more direct routes for commuters out of the city core. The Municipal Transit Authority promises that its replacement, the safer system of monorails recently constructed with-" As she spoke, Index's eyes glassed out. It took Touma shaking her by the shoulder to break the spell.

"How do you know all this!? And why are you talking with such class!? We've been here a day, don't tell you're already infected with high society values! I can't afford that lifestyle!"

"No no, it's not that!" She squirmed away from his grasp and pouted. "The Church only has public access television, so all I've been able to watch is News. There aren't even any Christmas cartoons on! It's just one channel with old boring people talking, and the worst thing is I can't forget any of it!" She rubbed her head and pulled at hair, her twitching eye giving Touma pause.

"R-right, I'm going to assume you're fine." Even if he wanted to, it seemed there wasn't going to be much time. The drilling had finally stopped, the machine slowly moved out of the way. And as it went, a rumbling grew.

"Not me! I swear! Not me this time" Index bounced up and down as the noise grew louder. A rush of air announced the arrival of what could only be a train. There was only one problem.

"Didn't you say this track was shut down? Unless-" A heavily modified rail car pulled up to the landing. "-They actually repaired the line!? Are they civic minded or something!?" The train came to a surprisingly efficient stop, considering it's size. But there were only three cars: the engine, a passenger section, and a strange flat-bedded trolley. And on the end of that trolley was a large crane, bolted down and counter-weighted for large freight. A man on board waved to his colleagues on the opposite station, who were finally clearing the site of their large upright drill.

"I can hardly see, but that hole going up... What are they drilling for anyway?" No one could answer, but the last remaining criminal clambered up a quickly erected ladder. With practised ease she placed something in holes drilled, trialling wire as she scooted back down. It didn't take long for Touma to understand.

"Oh, this is going to hurt."

"What?" Index looked around for the source of danger. "What will hurt?"

"In confines like this, even a controlled blast is going to seriously rattle our ears. Cover them up."

The nun did so, but opened a crack to ask another question. "How do you know that?"

"I've been through a lot of explosions. Oh, get ready, she's readying the trigger."

Index nodded, but hesitated, dropping her hands. "Wait, did you say explo-"

The shock wave nearly knocked her down, but it was even worse for the criminals who scattered to escape. As the rush of dust filled the room, Touma shook his head, eyes closed as the wave hit him. _They didn't even wear safety equipment... Wait a minute!_

His hand snaked out, grasping his gasping nun. She dragged her down a path he vaguely remembered seeing, narrowly brushing past its cursing guard. They exited the dust cloud into an dead end, save for an old door. It surrendered quickly to his shoulder, and they climbed the stairwell it hid.

At the top was the observation centre they were under moments ago, an empty table and a wall of unlit control panels their only company. Touma pulled them both low as individual voices finally emerged from below.

"G-God damnit! The Hell!?"

"How much charge did they pack in there!?"

"QUIET! QUIET!" A man rose his voice above the others. "Just get the damn thing loaded already! It'll be hard for them to stall now above ground!"

 _Loaded? What are they..._ Risking their safety, Touma peeked up through a broken window, unconsciously keeping Index from doing the same with a free hand. The dust was still clearing, but a crew had already hitched their crane to whatever it was had dropped down through the ceiling.

He squinted, but at first could only make out a large cube. It clearly weighed tonnes, leaving a shallow crater in the concrete floor from it's drop, but the criminal's crane proved strong enough. It was only when the metal object landed on the trolley with a deafening clang that Touma finally recognized it.

"Really? Oh, neat. This's a first for me."

"What is? Touma, let me see!" Index squirmed, finally bringing her head up high enough. "Is that a... Vault? An entire bank vault!?"

"Yep. It was a bank heist this whole time. Finally, it makes sense."

The nun seemed less convinced. "...Does it?"

"I don't even know anymore, really. But at least now we know what's actually going on. And now I see why they have the passenger cart." They watched as the hostages were crammed onto the train at gunpoint, followed by most of the remaining criminals. "I guess these guys really want to play it safe, if they are taking all those people with them. They must have somehow slipped into this line and have another station somewhere."

"That's terrible! Touma, we've got to do something!" The vault was secured now, the last of the criminal shuffling inside the passenger car.

"Right, okay. When it starts moving, I'll jump onboard. Index, you stay and tell-"

"No! Touma, I'm not-" The train began to move, and Touma dove back down the stairs. "Touma! Not again!"

The boy made it back down to the station level just as the passenger car slid into the tunnel. With time to spare he jumped onto the trolley, crouching hidden behind the vault. _Well. That was simp-_ He had barely let out a sigh of relief when his breath caught in his throat.

Index was in mid leap behind him, a look of mild surprise registering the fact she wasn't going to make into aboard. As she passed over the lip of the platform and above the electrified rails her expression turned to panic.

"T-TOU-!" His left hand snaked out and caught her, Imagine Breaker grasping the crane's arm just in time. His jump from the train carried enough inertia to swing the crane out, dangling them both just feet above the now rushing ground. "W-whoa! That was close! I'm-" The hand that was originally around her waist shifted to her face as he pulled her closer to the crane.

"Sshh! Seriously, they have guns! They'll just shoot us, and I don't have a walking church! Speaking of which, would that fall have even hurt you? And why did you jump anyway!?"

She looked bashful now, trying to avoid his sharp whisper and stern gaze. When he twisted his head around to get her attention she squirmed the other way. Finally he succeeded in locking her down.

"Tell me, why-"

"Whenever I go away or stay behind, bad things happen to you!"

She pouted in trademark fashion, but a red tinge crossed her cheeks. Baffled, Touma had to lean back a second. His brow furrowed, and Index was left to imagine the deep thoughts brewing under the surface.

Vibrating with tension Index's blush grew. "...Well!? Say something already!"

"...That's nice of you, Index, but... Don't bad things happen anyway? ...N-now wait, Index, if you bite me they might hear us, we might fa-Agaaaagghh!"

!~~~~~~~~!

Near-about the same time: December 26th: London: Westfield London Shopping Centre, Art Gallery

"Right, so where is he? A-and the nun, I'm also here for the nun. And all the hostages." Though she blanched further at ever one of her consecutive gaffs, Mikoto saw her luck held. Othinus was too busy pondering the very same questions.

"I don't know, they were both right there, next to the cart full of my supplies."

Mikoto followed the Magic God's pointed finger, leaning further in despite the wobbling it caused. They were carefully perched on an unused shelving unit, propped up in the hall against the wall to look down into the room through a quickly removed vent. Now their faces were both squished up against the breach to peer inside, whispering to each other.

"Well, you don't need esper abilities to tell they're not here now. And of course, I'm sure they went down into that hole, because that's the least convenient place for them to be."

"That's likely true. Speaking of abilities, can you tell what's down there?"

Mikoto shook her head, forcing Othinus to bat her short hair away. But then the girl paused, right as a man in the room below stiffened. But where she looked quizzical he only smiled.

"That's the signal. Let's move 'em out boys, boys." Most of the hostages shrinked away, but one stood firm.

"We should just do as they say; there is no use in opposing them now." He spoke in precise and measured tones, and gestured broadly. "They haven't hurt us yet, and they always say you should not try to fight your hostage takers. Please, let's just do this peacefully, to avoid suffering." His calm demeanour carried the day, and in moments the mass was assembling. Two guards moved on ahead, and Othinus tugged on one of Mikoto's locks.

"Allright, this should be easy... Hey. Hey!" In response, Mikoto shook her head again, this time nearly throwing the Magic God to the floor below. "S-stop that! And why are you stalling, Esper? Tactically this is our best chance!"

"Because they're going to the police anyway." As Othinus' confusion grew Mikoto merely tapped her temple. "I caught that signal he was talking about: this group is going up to stall police forces through a hostage release. Which means..."

"...The other group is the important one. I suppose it's handy they didn't leave any guards on that hole, then."

"Yep. Even these guys don't have that much manpower." The room was empty, museum-quiet and still. It was a second of work to magnetically rip a gap in the thin plaster walls large enough for them to enter. Climbing to her feet and dusting off the wreckage, Mikoto gave the hole one look before dropping wordlessly in.

Othinus followed, startling the esper by landing directly on her shoulder. When she turned to look, the Magic-God just shrugged. "It's faster. Go, already."

The dash through basement and tunnel was short, ending abruptly in the underground station. They took a second to survey the damage, peering upwards into the darkness.

"What was up there?" _And why does it smell like an explosion went off?_

"This isn't the time Esper. Which way did they go, can you tell?" The tugging on Mikoto's hair was incessant.

"My powers don't work like that! Gah, Magicians... Just give me a second, something off." The girl leapt forward, heedless of danger. She dropped into the trench, and without pause grasped the live "...That's what I thought. There's an active train running in this subway. Heading... West."

"That's strange. This place looks mothballed. Why would... You suspect that train houses the criminals?"

"Well, let's find out." Mikoto grinned, and thin arcs of current multiplied through her hair and down along her arm. Affronted, Othinus jumped clear back to the platform proper. Brushing down static from her fur, she glared at the now motionless esper.

"What exactly are you doing?"

"What does it look like? Bringing them back."

"Is that a good idea? There might be hostages-"

"Don't worry, I got a feel for the train itself through the connection I've made. It's got a passenger car or something attached, everyone inside should have plenty of time to hang on. The criminals shouldn't have any idea what to do."

"Fine. How far away are they?"

"They got about 2 miles out, but aren't moving that fast. Well, they weren't, anyway. I'm accelerating them back now. We should see them in a few seconds."

Instead of seeing anything, they both heard something instead, fading their confidence.

"...Is that screaming?" Othinus nodded, looking thoughtful.

"Yes, but why does it sound so... So..." She snapped her fingers before rubbing her chin. Mikoto tilted her head, until each arrived at the same conclusion.

In unison they turned. "Familiar...?" [5]

"...ssssllooooooooowww ddddDDOOOOOOOWWWNNN!" From the darkness the unmistakable cry of an unfortunate boy echoed, but it was soon lost amid a rush of wind and the shriek of straining metal. The train barreled down its track, its lights dangerously close to the unused underground station.

...Directly towards Mikoto, still squatting in the train's path not 100 feet away. Her eyes widened, but she fought the instinct to dive for safety.

 _I got so distracted I forgot to decelerate the damn thing!_ Gritting her teeth, she magnetically slammed on the brakes every way she could. Its wheels bound tight to the rail, glued by invisible force, and the strength of her magnetic push raising the train at the joint connecting the trolley car. The near end of the passenger car scraped against the roof of the tunnel, sending a shower of sparks over the heads of cowering hostages. They held on for dear life, but not as hard as one unfortunate boy.

The train was going to stop in time, but the end of the crane leading the now reversed train swung around, propelled by momentum to swing low through the trench of the subway. The arc of its sweep passed straight through a wide-eyed esper. She reached out to stop it but saw with horror who and what was attached to it.

Imagine Breaker rang out, and with a thump Mikoto, Touma, and Index were launched into the ceiling to bounce off its cheap plaster before falling down amidst dusty shelves and boxes. The train came to a gentle stop now on its own, inertia killed. As it did, a few guards staggered off, blearily looking for a target.

"W-what the... How? What even could do that!?" He shouted back to the subway's engine, and a woman's head peeked forth.

"I don't know! The control panel here isn't responding, this thing's motor is shot to Hell and back! Maybe it glitched out or something!?"

"Crap, now what..." As the criminals regrouped and the hostages wretched, a battered trio groggily returned to life behind an accidental barricade of wreckage.

"...Everything hurts. All of me. Such misfortune."

"You hit me with a _crane._ A _CRANE,_ you Idiot..."

"I feel fine. What are you two... Never mind."

Index quailed under their combined stare, but Touma soon broke it off to peer over at the train, knocking out debris lodged in his ears. "Well, that wasn't what I expected, but it worked. For now." Some criminals were shepherding their charges from the now defunct locomotive, while others looked about anxiously for answers. Behind him, Mikoto pumped a fist in triumph.

"And best of all, they don't know what happened or who did it to them. My cover is still intact!" Her joy evaporated when she noticed what lay on the flat-bed trolley car. She had to fight to keep to a whisper. "...Wait, this was all just a _BANK ROBBERY!?_ That's so boring!"

One of the thugs broke off, desperately paging his hand radio for a contact. "All-right, now that's they're out of options, it's time to-" He finally got through to someone, and as they conversed Mikoto once again hesitated, catching signals that she didn't quite understand.

"Boss, the train... Yeah, yeah, it... Right. Right, okay. Plan B it is."

"...Wait. Misaka, did he say Plan B?"

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] The British term for flashlight. I've been avoiding throwing in a guy with a thick-as-dirt Cockney accent, but I will absolutely use regionally correct terminology when I remember (From last chapter, "mate" is not exclusive to Australia, by the way. Commonly associated, but not exclusively. A-ahem.)

[2] True fact, I remember when I first wrote this line that I thought it would be amusingly hard to determine what swear he was actually using here. Cue me 3 days later not remembering what swear I wrote! It's funnier this way I feel.

[3] I was actually going to take this joke one step further: there's a big chain of grocers in Canada called _Metro_ , but I decided that might be too obscure for this international audience.

[4] All right, potential Londoners, hear me out. I'm aware that the Central Line has no parallel tracks running alongside it at this part of town (Though it does run very close under this mall). What I'm assuming is that in the RailDex world, there is. The implication here is that the underground was used as a simpler shipping solution for a time at Westfield Mall, but when the magical events happened like the English Civil War and WW III (events that never seem to come up again, despite the mass damage and panic they caused), infrastructure was damaged and the area was closed for safety. Central Line itself was rendered inoperable, prompting the shift away from it. It doesn't have to make a whole lot of sense logistically: If you want to really pretend, you can imagine that it was initially intended to be a major stop on the Central Line but politics made that impossible, so they re-purposed what was already there. But do you really want 500 words of political backstory fleshing out London's Underground?

Y-you do?

Is there a sub-genre for locomotive-based fanfiction? And no, I don't mean Thomas the Tank Engine.

[5] Both should be intimately familiar with this sound.


	37. Part 2: Chapter 8

**I'll be honest; not only did I procrastinate on this update a fair bit, I'm still not out of the woods in terms of work. C'est la vie. Que sera sera. Accent egue. Ecetera, Ecetera. Summer will be better, I'm sure.**

 **So, I've done this story a bit of a disservice by leaving certain aspects understated. I remember thinking near the end of Part 1 that I couldn't really justify a satisfying romantic ending if I concluded there: their just isn't enough time, conflict, or negotiation of the harem. (I also remember thinking "why can't Fanfiction give you more than 2 tags for genre?)**

 **What I shouldn't have done is let that trick me into making rom-com the background of an action-comedy (partially because I didn't feel like I was doing a good enough job of the former at the time, and the latter is a hell of a lot easier to manage). The good news is that this very chapter things are going to start balancing out more; even better, I was planning that for a while anyway. The action isn't going to go away (this is RailDex after all), but pretty soon both MC's are going to have to start facing awkward reality and stop hiding behind masks.**

 **Anyway, it's time for a brief recap. Our heroes have foiled one plan, but what exactly do the criminals still have in store? Are things entirely as they seem? And how did Index manage to see enough to drive the toy car in chapter 6 (I've only only got an answer for that last one: she didn't. Othinus is lucky to be alive)? Be amazed by what is revealed in this chapter of the-veering-away-from-my-intention-and-dramatically-more-complicated-than-part-1, a Certain Holiday Season, Part 2!**

 **Chapter 8**

3:54 P.M., December 26th: London: Westfield London Shopping Centre, Underground Station

"That's it! Get the crane ready! Unhitch the vault, go!"

"I-It's not responding very well, I think it hit something hard... Careful!"

"Get that freight elevator operating now! We need this topside yesterday!"

Touma was impressed despite himself. "As far as crime syndicates go, these guys are organized. You'd think this would be a bigger problem for them, but they seem pretty calm. What do you think, Misaka?"

"...Pull a train two miles in reverse and no one even cares, blame engine troubles... Ought to just take the whole damn thing and throw it across the Channel... Ignore THAT why don't you..." [1]

"R-right. So, Othi-chan? ...O-Othi-chan?" His hood was empty; she was nowhere in sight. Somehow lost in the commotion, his concern for the former Magic-God rapidly became secondary. Most of the remaining criminals already had the detached vault back in the air, hurriedly guiding it towards the freight elevator on the opposite side of the station. _We're still hidden here, but they really suspect something is up..._

It had gotten to the point where the guards assigned to the hostages were more concerned with jumping at small noises than watching their charges. They chattered aimlessly, some more paranoid than others.

"I'm telling ya, there was this shape in the tracks! I swear I saw flashes of light!"

"Don't give me that, you saw nothing. Too busy crying like a baby."

"So were you!"

Behind them the prisoners stood as anxious than their captors. But the detail that caught Touma's eye was the distance between the two groups; the guards had subtly shifted closer and closer to their comrades across the gap of the rail.

 _Looks like most of them are spooked. If there's going to be a time to get them away from the hostages..._

"Touma, they've nearly got it there!" The nun pointed frantically at the elevator, whose doors were just opening to admit the vault. "But where are they going to go when it gets up there? That vault is huge!"

"They wouldn't do it if they didn't have a plan." Mikoto remained crouched low, biting a knuckle in thought. _Worse, from what I'm hearing, they still haven't released the hostages up above like they planned too._ "They're not talking about it in detail over the radio, so I can't-" Her connection to the radio chatter suddenly cut off, and she felt an embarrassingly warm hand on her shoulder. She squeaked in shock but avoided literal sparks. Touma flinched back, realizing why Imagine Breaker had rung out seconds before.

"Ah, sorry, wrong hand. Didn't mean to... Anyway, can you help?" Her eyes widened but she quickly turned away, surveying the room anxiously. The chains binding the vault to the crane clanked on the elevator's floor, their boss signalling for the hostages to be brought across. "I'm thinking-"

"Right, yeah, I got it! Just watch!" Rising slightly from her cover the esper channelled power through her fingertips, brushing along the one of the few shelves still standing near them. It groaned for a second under unseen stresses before sliding and scraping along the floor.

"W-wait, Misaka, I-"

It rushed towards the improvised bridge the guards were approaching, prisoners lagging behind them. They spun at the noise but only had time to dive across the gap as the first shelf slammed into another nearby. The two hunks of steel tangled together and crashed through the wooden plank, cutting the hostages off.

"Hah! There! You see-" Mikoto's satisfaction died at the sound of weapons cocking in the elevator.

"What was that!?"

"There, in the darkness! Open fire!"

Touma realized a split second faster what darkness they meant, pulling the group to the ground. A hail of gunfire ripped through their position, but as soon as she was free of Imagine Breaker Mikoto formed a quick half-shell from the debris around them

"Y-you didn't need to pull me down! I could have blocked them! I was fine!" Hiding her face as she dusted off her coat, Touma could only sigh at Mikoto's back.

"...I was going to suggest something where I punched someone, but this works."

"Forget the hostages, we have more upstairs! Go, go!" A siren blared caution, drowning out the criminal's instructions as the freight doors slipped shut.

"Don't worry, I can disable that lift-" Making a small crack in their defences, Mikoto saw in horror how indiscriminate the enemy's fire had become. Bullets consumed the underground station, and though far away from the action many strayed towards the hostages. They had nowhere to hide, cowering like the condemned before a firing squad.

"Take this, you ********!" A criminal leaned back to too launch a projectile. It bounced badly off Mikoto's shield, rolling far off target. Concrete flew in chips from bullet holes as innocents screamed, but no one noticed in the chaos the grenade tumbling their way.

It clicked to a stop, but the flash and roar of fury it unleashed hit a wall of steel and iron, slammed into the ground before the hostages. Though it vibrated with tension as further shots rang and ricocheted off it, the defense held, cupping around the hostages in a solid perimeter.

"Phew... That could have been bad." Their own shield gone, Mikoto fell back prone like her comrades. _That wasn't difficult, but there aren't usually this many civilians around. Gotta be careful._

Across the room the siren finally quieted, the great elevator doors fully closed. The cacophony of fire abated, and all that could be heard were the cries of those trapped behind Mikoto's shield.

Touma nodded as he pulled himself up. _"_ Looks like everyone is safe. If temporarily trapped. Did you make air holes in there?"

Mikoto ignored him, stamping down hard to raise an aura of dust that complemented her halo of sparks. "But they got away! They could've killed someone, we've got to go after them!"

"Shouldn't we take care of these people first?" Index's worried-filled glance back at the hostages didn't sway the Esper.

"No, this isn't over! Besides, there are more upstairs that need saving, and bad guys that need zapping!" Touma's didn't have time for even a moment of indecision before he was interrupted.

"I agree." A small figure pulled herself up from the trench of the subway, once white fur caked in grime.

"Othi-chan! Where were you?"

"Hiding. This costume isn't made to stop small arms fire." With catlike grace she scrambled up to his hood, Touma wincing at every pinch and prod of her climb. "We should move quickly."

He sighed but nodded. "Right, let's take the tunnel, I don't like the idea of more grenades if we follow them directly." He headed towards his exit, ignoring the expected complaint.

"Why!? I can handle it! You saw what- Hey! Idiot!" _Why do I always end up chasing him: when is this going to work out in my fav- I MEAN, the other way!?_

Behind them all Index flailed her arms frantically, jumping in front of the shell of protected hostages. "Wait, Touma! What do I do!? What about all these people!?"

"Index, stay here and keep them out of the way!"

"Wait, Touma-!" But boy, esper, and Magic-God vanished, leaving a little nun the only witness to the makeshift egg's hatching. Voices echoed from within, quickly becoming more clear.

"This wall came out of nowhere! And now it's just falling apart!?"

"I think there were some kids over there or something! And a cat, maybe?"

"Did someone save us? And who's this little girl now? What's even happening!?"

"Eeehhh..." All eyes locked on her, full of expectation and fear. Retreating to the confines of her memories, Index picked up the only information she could remember about dealing with a crisis. "Please remain calm? Oh, and move in a orderly fashion to the nearest exit!"

The crowd scanned back and forth at the wreckage of the room, eventually settling again on their erstwhile leader. Finally, an elderly man raised his hand.

"...Where's that?"

"I have no idea, but let's go! Follow me!"

!~~~~~~~~!

"All right, now where would that elevator come up... I didn't see it anywhere earlier." Touma stepped off the makeshift ladder that Mikoto formed, rising from the basement hole. They emerged in an art gallery as devoid of life as she had claimed, but that didn't slow the esper down. She dashed through the various displays, shouting back as Touma struggled to keep up.

"It's clearly out of use, so it's probably behind a wall facade somewhere. They'd open it up again if they needed it, but I can feel it out in a second..." They entered the hallway, surrounded by abandoned shops. "Then I can figure out where we can go so that no one sees us..."

"Are you still trying to be subtle, esper?" Mikoto spun and shot Touma's hood a dire look. "After that underground display?" Othinus's sardonic grin seemed designed to start trouble.

 _But I won't rise to the bait, you pest._ "They never saw me, so it's fine! I just don't want them to connect my face to any of this; I know the consequences." _Besides, the Dorm Supervisor would bury me if she found out I made Tokiwadai look bad._

"Isn't she just terrible at this?" Othinus laughed brutally, elbowing Touma in the ear. "She's about as subtle as a lightning strike."

"Heheh, that's actually pret... U-uh-hmm, actually, Othi-chan, this is clearly not the time or place! Be more considerate, please!"

As lightning arced and the lights flickered, something caught the embarrassed girl's eye. After a moments thought her powers subsided, and she gazed with interest at the overlooked novelty shop behind Touma. He peeked out from behind arms raised in self-defence.

"...I may stand out, but we can work with that."

"Wait, Misaka, where are- Why are you dragging me in here? Is this really the time to be-" She cut him off, letting him reclaim his balance as she appraised the wares on offer.

"Don't worry, I can hear the radio chatter. Plan B or whatever is still going to be a few minutes, whatever it is. We have a bit of time, and this is important."

"But where are we? Is this a gag shop?" Touma picked up a strange looking toy and pressed a button but dropped it when it shocked him for the trouble. "Looking for a firecracker or something to cause a distraction?"

"What? No, that's silly. Just pick something already." She turned her back, rifling through a stand of masks.

"Pick what?"

"A costume! We're going in disguise, Idiot."

"A costume...? We're just taking them? I don't know if..." But something clicked in the boy's mind. _On second thought, I do make the news way too often. And whenever I do, things usually get worse for me. Maybe if no one knows I do something, I won't get harassed over it later!_ "...Actually, borrowing something might be a good idea. But, what to choose-"

"Look, if you aren't going to pick, HERE!" Lost in thought Touma saw too late the clothes rack sliding into him, falling with it in a tangle of hats and belts. As soon as he fought free more clutter piled on top, rejected masks and visors Mikoto tossed away in her own search. Recognizing when the current flowed too strongly, he sighed and set to work.

Surprisingly quickly he grasped a solution, picking up a large black bandana. Without a second glance he stretched it over his mouth, letting Othinus grumble as she tied it behind his neck. To finish the picture he pulled on a hastily chosen large-brimmed hat. "There, it's like I'm a cowboy or something. That's counts as a disguise, right?" Entertaining thoughts of Lone Rangers and heroics he balanced it on his brow as he turned, adopting a deeper and, he hoped, more mysterious voice. "Right, Misaka, who am I? Heheh."

"I guess this will do... Hmm?" She pulled on a bright blue eye mask, tying it behind her nape as she turned together. Their eyes met across the room, but words escaped them.

Mikoto broke first, hiding her mouth behind a clenched fist. "...Oh yeah, no! That's, u-uh... A _really_ good disguise!" His eyes narrowed, initial suspicion growing until he discovered his reflection in a nearby mirror. "You, y-you might get in trouble with Disney, though..." Behind the bandana he frowned mightily, pulling it down to better seen the pattern in pink he had missed in his hurry.

"It didn't have hearts on the other side..." [2] Glancing up, Touma was similarly resigned to see the large black mouse ears sticking out boldly from his hat. [3] He gave one a flick and it bounced back with jaunty vigor. "...I don't know how I missed those, though."

"...Pfft..." He rounded on the esper as she fought back a laugh, pointing an indignant finger at her brightly sparkled and sequined mask.

"You're the one who tossed the novelty clothing at me! And besides, "Princess Butterfly Railgun" isn't much more mature!" [4] He couldn't see her blush through the cheap plastic, but the sparks were warning enough.

"S-shut up! It's not like I LIKED this or anything, but they don't carry Gek... N-Never mind that!" She made to toss her choice aside in search of another, but the burst of radio chatter stopped her cold. "Crap, we're out of time!"

"Wait, can I not switch out these out for-Whoa, hey!" Disguises intact the esper grasped Touma by the arm to drag them both back out into the hallway. There they paused as she knelt and touched the floor, giving him a chance to try again. "Everything seems quiet, so what's wrong? Do I really need to wear this-"

"Plan B is almost here! We need to find them!" Tracing the Mall's structure through its wiring was a quick task. _All-right, the elevator, the elevator is..._ "There! This way, come on!" Mikoto sprinted back towards the main atrium, and Touma was forced to stumble along after.

The hallway soon ended but upon reaching the main atrium Mikoto froze and ducked back behind a nearby pillar, forcing to Touma to skid to a stop. As it was he balanced awkwardly, grasping the column to avoid landing bodily atop of her. Once stable he wiped sweat from his brow, taking a deep breath. _Thank goodness I didn't bump into her, this is not the time to get fried._ "Hey, what-"

"Idiot! Keep it down! Just look!" Properly chastised he obeyed her harsh whisper, and quickly understood.

Waiting for them under the high glass roof was a tense standoff. Mikoto had lead them back in the main concourse where Kanzaki had made her earlier exit; on either side of the large open area were two encamped forces. Deeper in the mall and with their backs to a solid white wall were the criminals, behind impromptu barricades of display carts with roofs hastily assembled from cafeteria tables. There weren't many of them left, but they still outnumbered the few dozen hostages that remained cowering with them.

Facing them down across the hall were police, clogging up the short hallway that lead to the outside. Their vehicles formed a heavy blockade outside the rows of glass doors, blue lights spinning flashy in the dwindling twilight. A few bullet holes marked an earlier confrontation, but a brave officer stood up with a megaphone, ignoring the danger as he shouted. "We have you surrounded! There is no escape: release the hostages as you promised and no one needs to get harmed!"

He was met with derisive laughter, and his criminal counterpart shouted back. "Sorry, coppers: there's been a change of plans! Give us... Give us another 30 seconds, then we can talk!" He turned back to his comrades, but Touma couldn't make out his words. Those not manning the barricade were attacking the wall behind them with hatchets and power tools, but now hurried their pace. Mikoto's earlier assessment awoke in his memory, and he pounded his palm in understanding.

"They must be getting ready to open up the elevator and get at the vault, but where are they going to go with it? ...Ah, Misaka?" _Maybe I whispered too softly..._ The girl was frozen, staring at the thugs, murmuring to herself.

"I don't know what they're planning..." She touched her mask softly, before breaking into a grin. "But now I can finally cut loose a little!"

"Misaka? Biri-biri, what are you-!" Touma watched, astonished, as Mikoto blithely ran out into the centre of the conflict to stand bold between the two forces. He hesitated only a second before chasing after, cursing his misfortune under taught breath. _It's okay, she'll protect me from the bullets, right? Right!?_

He staggered out next to her just as the criminal leader turned around. From the Eastern exit police voice shouted abrupt warnings, but the two civilians that emerged to challenge him ignored the danger.

"Hey, you two! Stop there!" The thug was also ignored, as Mikoto lowered into a fighting stance.

"Just give up already!" Mikoto brewed up a display of power, lines of lightning arcing out. As a dozen guns aimed at her she surged magnetism with ease, ripping them from startled hands to land skittering on the floor at her feet. "Or I'll have to make you!"

"Who are... How... What are you..." The criminal seemed unable to parse either his circumstances or the odd pair before him, one sparking electrically and the other in raising his fists in ludicrous defiance. [5] Finally he lowered his megaphone to pick up a hand radio. "Ah, **** it. Just drop Plan B already!" The shout brought his comrades scrambling for cover, diving beneath the strange awnings they had erected from wooden tables.

 _Drop?_ Those weren't the words Mikoto had been expecting. She quickly focused electromagnetic fields upwards where they collided with something large and metal, swooping low over the glass roof. As it was, she glanced upwards a split second slower than Touma, whose instincts for disaster proved quicker.

The lighting was poor, just a dim twilight as the sun set early, but an unusual blurry shape was rapidly enlarging. The ceiling wasn't quite see through, but it didn't take long for the unfortunate boy to realize the worst case scenario was inevitably on its way.

He had just enough time to sigh. "It just had to be-"

The glass roof shattered with a earth-rending crash as a massive vehicle dropped through it directly over head. Touma barely registered it as a tank before he saw the helicopter that carried it disconnect a series of lift lines letting the heavily armoured vehicle free-fall directly onto the duo waiting below. [6]

Though shocked beyond belief Mikoto immediately caught it, slowing its fall, but from all sides the real threat emerged.

A thousand square feet of glass had exploded over head, unleashing a billion-strong storm of razor sharp shards. These now sped past their cause and though some had fragments of metal structure still attached, most were thin slivers of uncontrollable death.

 _I...I can't stop those AND this thing!_ [7] Her eyes widened, feeling for something to generate a shield solid enough to stop both glass and tank. The linoleum floor and concrete moorings betrayed her; there was metal on either side of the hall, but nothing else close enough. _Not close enough to protect-!_

A strong arm suddenly wrapped around her stiffening waist, and she gasped lightly as Imagine Breaker smashed her hold on the tank. That arm swung Mikoto about in a circle, and all she saw as she flew away was Touma's cheesy, confident smile.

She hurtled towards the side of the hall, sliding under a restaurant's service counter to bump against the wall. Momentarily disconnected from her power she gathered her thoughts, desperately trying to catch the tank once more, slowing it as best she could.

But it was not enough. Though Touma dove to the floor the tank slammed over him, shaking the ground as glass crashed down. Much embedded itself in the linoleum, but several shards lashed out sideways, forcing the esper to yank the counter down over her and curl it into a cocoon.

The roar dwindled to a whisper as debris settled, and the helicopter's blades hummed strongly in the otherwise silent room. Police forces slowly peaked out of hiding, before noticing with shock the airborne threat levelling two large cannons in their direction.

The helicopter opened fire, aiming too low at first striking short of the defensive line. But the its nose lifted, and the steady stream of lead carved a furrow of death from the ground. Officers scattered, most fleeing the mall entirely as their structures were dismantled under unrelenting force.

Mikoto peeled back her cover as soon as the glass stilled, and saw first the tank rapidly backing up. As it revved through temporary structures the gunmen mounted secondary gun emplacements; they sent additional fire down towards the blockade outside as the tank fired it's main cannon. The roar scattered broken glass and enveloped the abandoned police line in a cloud of rushing smoke.

A crew of criminals, ignoring the fleeing hostages, had finally cleared the elevator of the facade that covered it. The doors opened and a heavy chain was soon wrapped about the vault, securing it from all angles to a massive winch installed on the tank's rear. From the vehicle's sides four heavy pinions shot out and downwards, thick stakes driven securely into the ground. The winch engaged and with a staggering lurch the vault moved, ripping up linoleum as it slid slowly out into the open.

But the esper spared no time. She staggered to her feet, turning the now mangled counter into a temporary shield. Shots pinged of it, but Mikoto ignored the one sided fire-fight as she skidded knees-first towards the twin trenches the tank's treads had gouged out of the floor.

In between them was a motionless body.

"T-Touma!" There was no blood; the glass had not reached him under the tank's cover. And as she shook his shoulders he twitched, coughing away gun-smoke and blinking slowly.

"...Ergh... H-hey..." _Guess I was right about that name thing... Still not sure if it's worth it._ [8] Though the ears on his hat were bent flat, he was otherwise unharmed.

Mikoto fell back on her haunches to take a deep breath, hand pressed to still a beating heart. It was only when she caught him staring at her that she launched a sudden bolt of power his way. It was blocked by Imagine Breaker with reflexes honed by long experience, but the esper ignored her failure. "Y-You Idiot! What were you thinking!? I could have stopped it, you didn't have to... T-throw me! No one throws a Level 5!" [9]

"Well, it was nice while it lasted..." Groaning a little Touma pulled himself upright, pleased to find everything important was still attached. He looked around a little more carefully, taking stock of the chaos and the continuing criminal barrage. "...So where did that tank go?"

Inside, the driver paused. There was limited visibility, forward cameras struggling to penetrate the haze of gun-smoke, but he finally confirmed his impossible suspicions. He half-turned, shouting over his shoulder at the winch crew.

"B-boss? Boss!?" A form moved up in the tank, crouching low over his subordinate's shoulder to peer at the monitor displaying the carnage out front.

"What is it!? Just keep firing, we've got to get this vault..." The leader finally caught sight of the makeshift metal wall, filled with pockmarks but somehow still standing in the hall's centre. And for a split second, it shifted position and he saw those behind it. "Wait, are those kids still here!? And how is that one making a shield?!"

The man in the gunner's position shifted uncomfortably. "I haven't a clue, Boss, but they're directly in our escape route, what do we-"

"Just blow 'em away, we're getting out of here! Okay, go, the vault's in position!" His last words were shouted into his radio: the helicopter above ceased fire. Drifting back several meters it soon hovered directly over the vault, now pulled clear into the open. A number of lines dropped down; though the leader and few other criminals were lifted up, the rest began securing the vault to several more.

"So, Misaka, th-!" A tank shell rebounded off the metallic wall, exploding a short distance away. When he recovered his breath, Touma continued. "A-ahmm... This can hold, right?"

"Hmm?" Peering through a small hole quickly moulded in the barrier, Mikoto twisted beyond repair the last of the tank's secondary turrets, forcing its gunner to duck back inside the tank. "Oh, yeah. They can't ablate enough of my shielding before I recover the fragments. I can hold this all day." Not turning she flinched back as another shell rocked their position. She violently waved away the accompanying rush of smoke, holding back a fit of anger. "Though it's sure getting on my NERVES! If I wasn't trying to be subtle it'd already be scrap, I tell you-" But she paused mid-thought; there was a change in the air, in the sounds of the battle.

Touma heard it too; rotors strained and the engine whined, but gradually the helicopter was rising up again. Together they peaked out to see that below it hung the entire bank vault, swinging gently forward and back. And it was heading slowly back up to the hole in the roof over the tank. It gave up firing on the police position, focused on threading the narrow gap to freedom.

At the same time the ground assault's weapons finally fell silent, even the main cannon, whose barrel was pinched magnetically shut like a crushed straw. Various criminals now crowded into the tank's cabin, grounding pinions unearthed, freeing it once again. Its engine roared excitedly as its trends bit into the linoleum tiling before springing forward.

Touma flinched, but though every instinct told him to dive away, he held firm. Even as the wall Mikoto built crumbled apart, and the tank began to surge forward. Because he could see out of the corner of his eye the brash and confident smile broadly spread upon his partners face.

She reached up and, with a thin line of lightning, severed the cables tying the vault to the helicopter.

Relieved from its load the copter bounced up, crashing through a patch of remaining roof and spiralling into the open sky. But the further shower of glass was lost in the cataclysmic crash of several tonnes of bank vault onto the accelerating tank below.

Though it was able to winch one out when properly secured, no tank was design to operate under the loads it was experiencing. The engine struggled valiantly but could not keep the treads from bottoming out. The crew compartment creaked ominously over the heads of terrified criminals as the undercarriage ground along the floor, and the whole vehicle came to an unceremonious halt.

The battlefield was still again, and though the helicopter chugged noisily above it was a distant distracted. The foremost of the only two standing combatants dusted off her hands, striking a triumphant pose.

"Hah! Made that look easy. Didn't even need my Railgun." Mikoto glanced up, considering the effort required to bring the helicopter back down as well; as it was it wobbled perilously, smoke rising from its tail rotor. But before she came to a decision, she realized she was standing alone. Touma was already running past the pinned tank, back into the mall. "Wait, where are you-!?" It clicked suddenly. _Oh! Of course, the hostages!_ By the time she spared a glance back up the helicopter was peeling away, giving up on the operation. With a grimace of diverted justice Mikoto let it go, pursuing a higher priority.

Darting after him, she turned a corner to catch him sighing in relief. The group of civilians had crammed inside an abandoned store front, unharmed and unwilling to do more than peek outside at the strange pair. "They still seem afraid. I wonder...?" Touma reached up to scratch his head, before bumping into the dishevelled hat he still wore. "Oh. Right." He made to remove it just as Mikoto slid into view, slapping his hand away. "Ah! Hey, what's the-"

"What's the point of a disguise if you just take it off!?"

"Aren't we done? I mean, everyone's safe, the criminal's are stopped? Where are you dragging me-!? And do you have to smile like that as you do!?"

"We still have to arrest them or something, Idiot! Come on." Despite her embarrassment Mikoto couldn't wipe away the grin, so she turned away. _This is much better than in the Dianoid... I get to lead HIM by the nose. Hehehe..._

Her hold on his collar nearly dislodged Othinus, whose cat-eared head peered out with interest. "You're going to arrest the criminals in the tank that nearly crushed me?"

"Well, yeah, they're the last ones left-"

"They're getting away."

"-and the helicopter- W-wait, what!?"

Though already back into the main hallway, both Touma and Mikoto had failed to notice the vault being pried from its perch until it slammed down to the floor. A squad of remaining criminals scrambled back inside the tank as it peeled away, crowbars and sledges abandoned in their hurry. Before she could reach out and stop them the tank barrelled towards Westfield's East entrance.

And all that stood in the way of their escape were a pair of short officers, just outside the entrance and behind the battered remains of the police barricades. One held out a small hand and blew sharply on her whistle but the tank held its course.

 _They couldn't stop if they wanted to!_ Mikoto reached out as best she could to slow it down with her powers, but shouted anyway as she and Touma sprinted after it. "Run, they're going to-!"

The two police officers dashed to each side, but held something between them. It was a long, thin strand of yellow tape. _Something's off..._ Touma peered as best he could, finally realizing what was so familiar about the two officers, now leaning back as they pulled their tape taut. He stumbled to a standstill, mouth agape.

Outside Mikoto saw a secondary police line, down along the street where a small horde of fascinated onlookers and reporters were held back. Their shouts gave way to screams as they discovered the threat rushing towards them, scattering as best they could from its path. In desperation the esper gave up stopping it, instead wrenching herself towards it's rear in a last ditch effort to intervene.

Unaware of her efforts the tank bashed through the rubble ran straight into the tape, ready to escape the police line.

But it instead it slowed.

Despite the tank treads whirring and churning up concrete, the tank slid to yet another stop. Its nose tilted down a short flight of stairs leading to the closed-down street as the entire tank leaned forward.

"Why aren't we going forward!? Put the gas on, we just have to get outside! Just what the Hell is stopping us!?" But nothing their leader shouted at his driver made any difference, who could only gesture at the view screen in wordless dismay.

All that could be seen across it, stretched wide with the tape it was printed on, was the word 'caution'.

The tank lurched forward, and a dozen thugs slammed into them from behind. Pressed into each other there was no way to ease up on the gas, and the mass of criminals realized in creeping horror that the back end of their tank continued to rise. It soon was impossibly vertical, midway down the short flight of stairs leading to the street. There it hung, main cannon bent under its own weight, in precarious balance.

Directly in Mikoto's still accelerating path. There was just enough time for her to realize mid-flight and in panic throw on the breaks. She slowed enough to stick to its underside with a clang, wobbling from the impact.

But even to an Esper, Newton proved king. The tank absorbed the inertia and it pitched forward, momentary stability ended in a titanic crunch of concrete and steel.

Arms waving for balance on the finally stilled machine, Mikoto felt its engine expire beneath her. Its crew was trapped, the threat ended. The faint sound of coughing and moaning from within was satisfying, but not enough to distract the girl from her burning curiosity.

"How the heck..." Muttering she pivoted upon her fallen foe, catching sight of Touma sprinting though the police barricade wreckage. He stopped just outside the doors, skidding to a halt. Despite the kerchief hiding it, Mikoto could tell his jaw was agog.

Her own joined suit when the two officers strolled up to the tank, one leaping lightly on top to take hold of Mikoto's limp hand. Shaking it solemnly, beneath an oversized constabulary helmet, was Lessar. Further back was Itsuwa, standing tense but furtively glancing to the mall.

On top of the tank the two girls stood, silently shaking hands for a second before the esper leaned forward.

"...Are you two impersonating police officers!?" Her whisper was piercing, but Lessar met it levelly.

"Are you two impersonating asylum escapees?"

Wincing, Mikoto sighed. "Fair point. But anyway, what did you two-"

"There's no time, play along." Lessar snuck a glance over Mikoto's shoulder before clearing her throat. "Y-Yes, thank you very much!" She shouted into the esper's ears, eliciting a wince. "The Metropolitan police welcomes assistance from civic minded... C-civilians! You've done London a great service today, but please stay out of trouble!"

Mikoto's eyes narrowed. "Wait, service? What are you-" A light flashed behind her and she froze. Her heart sank into her stomach, locking her feet in place. She could only twist at the waist, looking behind to see rows and rows of onlookers. And in the very back, behind a line of befuddled police officers and motionless reporters, was a solitary tourist, lowering her camera.

She blinked, wide eyed, under the scrutiny of the crowd. But before they could react, a group of hostages finally shuffled out from the mall. At the sight some emergency personnel broke from reverie, bringing them through the smoking ruin and distributing first aid. And as they did, the assembly clearly heard their shouted testimony.

"...incredible, that girl in the mask ripped the guns right from their hands, with just a look!"

"That's nothing, did you see that Cowboy guy!? That tank LANDED on him, but he was fine!"

"I'm pretty sure I saw a cat, too! I have no idea what it did, but it was cute!"

"Are they superheroes? They looked foreign... They like the Asian Avengers or something?"

"That's stupid. They already have Power Rangers, and neither are real!"

"Maybe that cat was their mascot?"

"Who WERE they!?"

 _Oh no._ Her head shook in disbelief. _Oh, no no no._ The girl turned back towards the crowd, now refocused on her.

A crowd exploding into shouted questions, flashes of light, shoving for position, and general chaos. Though baffled, the police fought for order.

"Well, see ya." Lessar leapt back to the ground, dragging Itsuwa away by the arm. She looked back over her shoulder and flashed a cruel smile. "You might want to get out of here, esper."

Ignored in the bedlam the two imposters deftly threaded through the crowd towards a familiar looking bus parked across the street. They passed another crowd of dusty hostages, lead up from side-road by a confused but determined nun; they grabbed her too and all three vanished in the bustle.

"Wait!" Mikoto cried, arms raised in panic. "Take us with-" But the crowd pressed in, and she was their target. Other police officers approached, questions flying. Generating a magnetic field she launched from the tank amidst shocked cries back towards the entrance's metal awning, but faltered as she saw Touma. He gave an emphatic shrug. _Of course I can't just get out of here the easy way._ She landed next to him and accelerated, grabbing his collar as she went. "You always make things difficult!"

 _"_ Wait, what? What did I do? Are we running away!?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"Can I take this stuff off now?" Mikoto stiffened, abandoning her attempt to peek out from the alley's entrance. Deeper in the shadows Touma examined his hat; his shoulders slackened in disappointment. "Aw... The ears got bent."

"What? Uhm, yeah, we can ditch the disguises. No one followed us." _A real miracle. Thank God everyone was so confused, no one even tried._ For the first time in ages she breathed a sigh of relief.

Which squeaked out in surprise as she felt hands behind her nape. They ran through her hair, which raised in static that was immediately quashed by Imagine Breaker. Stumbling away, she spun in shock, blushing face revealed.

"A-ah, sorry, didn't mean to startle you." The untied mask dangled lamely in Touma's fingers. "I figured you wanted it off, so I..." _Why did I think that was a good idea? Do I want to die?_ He stared at her crimson face for several moments. His own embarrassment slowly drained, a sly grin crossing his face. "...Oh, that's how it is, huh? I see."

 _WHAT!? WHAT DOES HE SEE!?_ "W-what!? You see nothing, Idiot!" She reached out to snatch it but he easily yanked it away, dancing back.

"Oh no, it's pretty clear now." He pulled the strings tight, raising it mockingly before his eyes. "You've grown attached to it, haven't you? 'Princess Butterfly' sounds better than you thought, huh? Or is just that you like the sparkles? Heheh..." He span about, prancing as he imagined a princess would, spinning right into the snowball aimed squarely at his face. "Agh!"

"I-Idiot..." Drying her hands Mikoto stepped past him, picking up and discretely pocketing the mask. "Anyway, the coast is clear. Now, where are we..." She flipped out her phone and began typing, searching around for wifi she could access.

Brushing the slush from his pants, Touma stood up and peeled away his damp face bandana. "Great. I'm all wet." _I have to be more careful around Misaka and dark alleys. Then again, I should probably just be careful around Misaka and dark alleys in general._ "Hey, did Lessar and Itsuwa say what they were up to out there? And where did they get those costumes?"

Not looking up from her phone, Mikoto nodded. "Uhm... Uh, not really. I though they wouldn't get involved; something about politics. And that caution tape MUST have been magic... When is someone going to explain all that to me, anyway?" Her button pressing became more pointed, jabbing out keys with vigour.

Touma ignored her mumbling. "I see. It was a good thing they did help either way. That could have been bad."

"I suppose." _I would have stopped it in time, somehow... I mean, they did help, obviously, but-_

"I'm just glad they're okay. I had forgotten about them, so seeing them there running in the tank's path gave me a heart attack."

"Y-Yeah, I bet." _It not like they wield arcane powers or anything. Geez, they were fine._

"Whatever they did worked. I'm pretty sure I saw Index too; I was worried about leaving her down there, but I'm glad she's fine."

"Mmhmm." _Oh, she was in real danger. Yeah, the most._

"And best of all, she got the hostages out! I figured they would be lost for days."

"...Mm." _All-right, I'll give you that one, but-_

"Heck, even the criminals should be okay, once they figure out how to flip that tank back over."

"..." _EVEN THOSE ********!? EVERYONE but me, huh!?_

"B-Biri-biri, is your phone going to be okay? You're, ah..." Touma raised a hesitant hand as growing lightning illuminated the darkness. "Didn't you just buy that-AGH!" His fears were well-founded: a particularly strong bolt dissipated upon his hand, light shining through his fingers.

"It's fine! And don't call me that!" As the smoke cleared, she took a deep breath, and glanced down at her phone. It's smoking husk disappeared into her pocket. "I-It's fine! And it doesn't matter, I accessed a map, the Cathedral is that way, let's go, let's go go go!" Mikoto stomped down the alley, Touma following a safe distance behind. Together they emerged onto a quiet street, and whilst his companion gathered her bearings he raised a hand to shield his brow from the street-light glare and the beginnings of a light snow fall.

"Okay, if that's the subway entrance, then-"

"Ah, Misak-"

"-What IS it!?"

"S-so, it's... Is that it? Over there?"

"...Yeah. That's the Cathedral. Of course we can see it from here."

!~~~~~~~~!

 _She seems quiet. Is something wrong?_ The walk back was short, but even Touma caught wind of a brooding atmosphere. She slumped ahead of him, shoulders slack; it'd been a long time since he'd seen her quite so dejected. _Is she just tired? ...I'd offer to carry her, but that seems suicidal._

They paused for a traffic light; the few cars still on the road whipped long shadows in the cold night.

"So... Ah..." She turned her head a little, cheek's rosy with the chill. He faltered, but persevered. "...E-enjoying London so far?"

Slowly she looked up to stare at him. Her eyes narrowed. "Are you making fun of me?"

"NO! No, no!" He backed away, half-raising Imagine Breaker. "I mean, obviously today wasn't the greatest but I mean in general! You've been here before, ah... D-does London live up to your memories?" _You're grasping at straws here, Kamijou-san... Get ready to run!_

He felt her gaze boring into his temple as he studied a snowdrift on the curb. But his instincts didn't tell him to dodge.

Instead, she laughed, two shades short of manic. When she caught her breath, she turned her face away. "...Y-yeah, actually." She shook her hair, dislodging a dusting of snow. "...Christmas was fun."

Touma hid a sigh of relief, but smiled broadly. "Yeah. I mean, Necessarius always does things in a dramatic way, but that was pretty tame for them. I haven't had a chance to relax like this since..." _After I almost died in the Arctic and was staying with Birdway. Right, don't mention that._

She filled the silence with a grunt of agreement. "I'll say. Things never slow down, do they..." Her breath crystallized before her eyes, and she braced herself for the plunge. "Speaking of... Necessarius, or whatever the magicians here are called."

He raised a hand again. "S-sorry, Misaka, but if it's about magic I still don't think I'm the one who should be telling you-"

"N-no, no." She cut him off with a wave, flicking more snow from her hair. "I meant about the people... The magicians." He raised his brows in interest, and she forced herself to continue. "L-look, they're very nice people, but, it's just that... There aren't many people here I know."

Silence fell again, and cars rushed past. More wind blew in Mikoto's face as she tensed up. _There. It's out there. And now I look like a jerk or a baby or something. Or worse. God, they were nice enough to invite me, and I didn't have any family plans, and they flew us out and even got Academy City to agree. And here I am, implying that I can't be left alone, and that I need him... S-someone to keep... AGH, why isn't that stupid embarrassing Idiot SAYING any-_

"I see." She jolted stiff, but Touma missed her reaction. He stood there, shaking his head ruefully. "Sorry, Misaka, I hadn't thought about that. I met some many people over the last few years I don't always remember who knows who."

"I-I'm glad! I MEAN, glad t-that you understand! It can be awkward sometimes, you know?" _There, that wasn't so bad..._ She took a deep breath. _I think I managed to..._

"I guess I just assumed you'd be fine, like always."

"It's okay, you don't..." _...Wait. What? "..._ Eh?"

"You're always fine in the end. You're pretty much the only one I can reliably expect that about." He paused a moment. "Well, usually during things like fights and that, but you get the idea."

"Uh-uhm-mm-" The gears weren't quite clicking in the esper's normally well-tuned mind.

"I don't think you have to worry, though. Itsuwa's really warmed up to you; she's usually pretty quiet. And Lessar hasn't even tried to... Actually. I don't think she'd try that on you." [10] He shook his head to clear it, unaware that Mikoto was hardly following any more. "I'll try to introduce you to more people, and not get caught up in thing. I just figured you'd let me know if you needed anything. And you did, so... That's helps! Ahaha..." He trailed off, running his hands through the snow falling on his head. _Too bad I can't wear my hood anymore. Should I buy a hat?_

 _I have no idea what to think right now._ Mikoto resolved to stop doing so for a few minutes and merely stared forward, nerves thoroughly shot.

"...Anyway, I don't think I have any more major debts to repay, so I guess from now on we can... Actually, I have no idea what's going on tomorrow." Touma scratched his chin before shrugging. "Well, I'm sure it'll be fine."

"...I'm fine too, you know." His head snapped back at the sound, and he twisted around to his hood.

"Oh! Othi-chan! Sorry, I forgot you were in there, you were so quiet."

"I'm lying low." When he didn't respond she clarified. "I heard a hostage mention a cat back there. Do you know what that means?"

"U-uhm..."

"Someone saw me. I won't make that mistake twice." "I'm the world's most hated criminal; ordinary people won't recognize me, but if some powerful institutions see me running around freely..."

"You think they'd get upset and come after you?" Mikoto finally chimed in, leaning around to catch the Magic-God's eye.

"Right. Also, the light's have cycled green three times now. Can we go to the Cathedral before it goes a fourth?"

The duo dashed out to beat the walk-signal, escaping the encroaching London night.

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] Mikoto and subtle do not good bed-fellows make. (Yes, I know she managed to sneak around a few times in the Sister's arc, but even that ended abruptly.)

[2] For those who might want a visual, just google image search flamboyant bandana; any of the ones with hearts can be a rough approximation.

[3] The google search for this one should be obvious. I actually had an friend who owned one of these, and wore it without shame in elementary school.

[4] Found this one under "pretty princess mask", a few scrolls down. It's the blue butterfly mask with sparkles (I really wish I could format links into this damn thing, but I guess the idea is to avoid spammers and risky clicks.) In the course of this story I have Googled some very strange things. If I got on a security watch list for trying to figure out what it would take to move a bank vault, I imagine "pretty princess masks" and "flamboyant cowboy" put me on at least a few more. A true auteur suffers for their art.

[6] In case you're wondering, yes, Helicopters can transport tanks; some can move loads upwards of 20 tonnes. I'll admit they don't normally drop them directly into battlefields, but I'm taking liberties and assuming the technology is just better in this world. Also, it's cool as all get out.

[7] It's time for another edition of "Rationalizing The Railgun's Power"! So, this is a tricky one. Based on the building encounter in the 13th NT light novel, (If you forget, the one where she picks up a 20 storey building full of people and uses it in an extended sword fight, without those inside getting harmed) Mikoto should be able to handle this no trouble. Just use the metal in the roof to swat away all the glass, and then keep the tank suspended, right? Well, here's my interpretation. In the light novel fight, she had a bit of time to react and prepare: the villain taunted Touma for a bit before she had to intervene. My guess is that doing really complex things, even for a ridiculously intelligent Level 5, takes some doing. In that fight, I would note her struggling substantially once the number of buildings increased: she has limits. I extrapolate this to assume that time is also a factor; doing something challenging in a split second (like now) is just as bad as doing some insane with prep time (like the building trick). Also, there's the fact she's a little surprised. Because, you know. Tanks from the sky.

On a secondary note, I really want to know how she managed that trick against the Old Mummy Priest or whatever. Feats like that require explaining, if only for the sheer wow factor.

[8] It was a long time ago, but to help out the forgetful he references his thoughts in the denouement of _A Holiday Season Part 1,_ and the only way he get her to not call him Idiot.

[9] "And I don't care if you punched out Accelerator; he still only counts as One!" (Did I mention I love bad jokes?)

[10] Even he can tell her efforts to get a _rise_ out of him is specifically targeted. Whether or not he knows why is a different matter.


	38. Part 2: Interlude 2

**We're back, with another evening interlude, the longest to date if you don't count the last half of part 1.5. I'm going to blame half the delays in Part 2 on how my chapters have almost doubled in average length. There, now I feel better about myself.**

 **To reiterate an oft stated but no less important point, I appreciate the feedback I've gotten. It's a major motivator whether praise or critique. (Unless you're going to petition me in Spanish to change the stated pairing 220000 words into a story and before anything more intimate than an accidental butt grope has happened. Seriously, these come once every 4 chapters and from new people each time: at this point I'm just fascinated). Feel free to comment or not, but know I read them with childlike glee.**

 **But also, a big thanks to the silent majority, just reading and waiting for the next update. You da real MVPs, dawg. Keep doing you. Really, it goes without saying, but if you've stuck with me this far, that's comment enough!**

 **The literal comments, however, are certainly easier to engage with. Some of those said comments may be vindicated after today's chapter, in the form of predictions and questions. I suppose you'll just have to read on to find out.**

 **Interlude 2: The Third Night**

9:45 P.M., December 26th: London: St. George's Cathedral: Guest Room 1

She took a deep breath and re-read the email on her phone. After the usual bureaucratic fluff was the warning she had been dreading since their return that evening.

... _by no means denigrate your meritorious efforts this day. The members of this Board understand that circumstances necessitated your taking action to preserve your own livelihood. As always, we have no issue with our assets defending themselves._

 _That said, this Board would be remiss if it failed to remind you of your legally binding obligations as one of Academy City's privileged representatives, and the necessity to adhere to the regulations of Academy City's Global Initiatives. Conditional to your internal and external benefits and freedoms is compliance to all Board strictures in this sphere, including but not limited to:_

 _Chapter 3 (State Security): Article 7, Sub-Section 4:_

 _No student or employee of Academy City may reveal, disclose, display, demonstrate, explain, report upon, or facilitate an understanding of any or all of the following: (a) aspects of their own powers or those of their peers, (b) the Academy City power Curriculum, or (c) otherwise act in a manner which brings the previous parameters to attention, discussion, or analysis, without express and written consent of a plurality of Board members._

 _(Exception: in the case of the termination or capture of self and/or certain critical and previously defined Academy City assets as stipulated by direct Board decision, all previous is rescinded.)_

 _We fully expect that your intent was not to break the aforementioned binding resolution, based on your efforts to mitigate your identification: our response shall be accordingly mitigated._

 _For the remainder of your state-sanctioned visit to London, England, you are required to adhere to the following limitations if engaging in public combat excepting life-threatening circumstances or physical capture:_

 _1,000, 000 V: Maximum potential difference generated (in 0.01 second bursts)_

 _10 kJ: Maximum rate of energy transfer_

 _10 A / 10 C: sustained amperage and current flow for a maximum of 10 seconds, when not exceeding other specified limitations_

 _1 kN: Maximum application of charge to generate force (Static, Lorentz, etc.)_

 _1 Tesla: Maximum Acceleration Strength of all fields generated, assuming 10m range and all previous restrictions_

 _The above guidelines fall within the established parameters Academy City wishes to present to the world regarding your abilities at this juncture. We anticipate and acknowledge your concern that in other locales your powers have been documented in excess of these limitation, even outside of Academy City. The circumstances of your disguise render those points invalid, since "Misaka Mikoto" should not be seen fighting crime around the world more than she needs to. We anticipate your cooperation in this matter._

 _With great expectations;_

 _Academy City: B.o.D. (Board of Directors)_ [1]

"Great. Of course they found out immediately." Mikoto's back bounced off her covers, sending them into further disarray. _Now I have to pretend I'm, what... I guess a level 3? I haven't been that weak since I was 9. Not to mention all those veiled threats._ She couldn't prevent the groan from leaking through her frown, but shook her head ruefully. _I suppose I should be grateful I'm not in worse trouble. But then there's the matter of what I said to that... Idiot. Oh, man._ She brought her free hand up, letting it fall across her face. "What a day..."

"Misaka-san, are you all-right?" The esper jerked back up, instinctively hiding her phone. But it was just Itsuwa, sitting at her own desk in their shared common room. At the moment she was Mikoto's only conversation: Lessar remained busy channel surfing, Othinus tucked away exhausted in her specially made bed, and Index still showering.

"Oh, uhm..." Though torn about which issue bothered her more, she certainly wasn't going to talk about one. _But as to the other... I don't THINK this counts as divulging state secrets... Ah, screw it. It's not like they can hear me._ "...I got in trouble back home. Not a whole lot, but enough to be annoying."

The magician smiled soothingly at Mikoto's sigh. "I see. I'm sure they understood your intentions, though."

 _I doubt that. But wait a second..._ "But that's just me. You two aren't in trouble for helping, right? I mean, after what you two said back there about politics."

"I appreciate your concern, Misaka-san, but-"

"Eh, we didn't break any rules." A metal tail waved from the otherwise side of the couch, before Lessar's disinterested face popped up after it. "Like I said, we weren't allowed to stop the crime with magic, and we didn't."

Mikoto's eyebrow conveyed her disbelief. "Oh really? That caution tape didn't seem standard issue. Hey, actually, how'd that even-"

"What, THAT magic?" Lessar interrupted, eye's rolling. "No no, no. THAT magic was used to protect the magicians in the bus: that counts as self-defence, so it's fine. And I had that leftover from the Coup: all it does is strengthen according to how dangerous it is in. You know, 'caution' tape."

That almost passed muster, yet Mikoto caught the deception. "I'm going to assume that makes sense, but the bus was never there in the first place, it was MOVED there-"

"Besides the point." Again, Lessar cut her off. "It's about the letter of the law. And after the danger passed, we never used magic, so technically we didn't interfere as magicians. Ironclad." The magician waited for applause that would never come.

 _But still, that's_ _actually pretty clever._ "...Well, that's good to hear. I guess." The conversation dwindled, and the esper searched for something to fill the silence. _Crap. The only thing to do is be appreciative, isn't it?_ "So, uh... Tha-"

"You were right, esper."

"STOP cutting me... W-wait, what? About what?" Mikoto stared, waiting for the catch, but saw instead with wonder the honest embarrassment leaking through Lessar's annoyance.

"That I shouldn't have let some stupid rules stop me from my real goal: protecting the British people. Hell, I joined a revolution, why should I be beholden to every damn little rule someone makes up!? Especially stupid bureaucratic nonsense!?" By now the small magician was straddling the couch, arms waving. And just as quickly she calmed down, settling into an evil grin. "Plus, it was fun making the police look ridiculous. I can't imagine what the press conference afterwards was like! Too bad I missed it..."

 _My opinion of her shouldn't go up TOO quickly._ "I guess it's good you magicians have more sense than to punish you for just helping."

"..."

"..."

Her roommates shared an uneasy look. It took the esper a minute to realize why.

"...But I thought... Itsuwa-san, didn't you imply everything was fine? And what about that excuse?" Mikoto felt even more lost around the magicians than normal. It was Lessar who finally answered, falling back into a sulk.

"Boss lady didn't completely buy my perfectly justified explanation. Arch-*****-op Stewart, more like... I preferred working with just New Light: then we could break all the rules."

"But it's okay, Misaka-san! You don't have to worry!" Itsuwa put on a cheerful face. "Rather than the traditional punishment of excommunication followed by execution, all we have to do is write a small test tomorrow to re-affirm our loyalty to the state. It's only 8 hours."

"Ugh, don't remind me. I'd rather just be hung." Lessar returned to her channel surfing, flicking away from the commercials just starting.

"...I guess our sides aren't too different after all." Mikoto leaned back to absorb it all, but immediately rocked forward again. _Hey! This is my chance to finally learn something._ "Say, speaking of which, can we talk about-"

"Imagine Breaker? Yeah, sure." Lessar waved a hand back lazily. "You won this round, I admit. But this trip is far from over."

"T-that's not... I meant about your Magic, not that guy!" The esper prepared a more vigorous denial, but was pre-empted.

"So it was about Kamijou-kun, when you mentioned a 'competition' back in the mall." An unusually sharp look entered Itsuwa's eye, and the plastic comb she picked up cracked audibly within her grip. "I was meaning to ask you about that, Lessar-san." Every muscle in Mikoto's body reflexively twitched, but she didn't recover fast enough to interject.

"Hmm? You mean the esper didn't tell you? Basically, we're each trying to seduce-"

"NOOO-Agh, ow!" Mikoto slammed into the ground, too quickly leaping to action from her bed. She was on her feet in a second, ignoring the shocked looks she earned. "N-NO! No, no no no! Everything you're thinking about, it's, it's COMPLETELY wrong! I would never feel that way about someone so, so-" _Idiotic! Infuriating! Insufferable! Impossible! Incomparable! Indefatigable? Ideal... WAIT._ At a loss for words the girl could only scrunched her eyes shut. "I-I-I just don't, okay!? Don't assume that! E-especially you, Itsuwa-san!"

The pregnant silence dragged on, until Lessar finally leaned back around the couch. "Hold up."

 _Crap. Was that denial too much? Why is she looking at me like that!?_ "U-uh... W-well, y-you see..."

"Esper. Are you saying that-"

"Yes! Yes, that's what I'm saying!"

"...Oh. Huh. I guess I just assumed that-"

"Nope! No, a-absolutely not!" The tension drained from Mikoto and she slumped in relief. _Oh, thank goodness. I thought for a moment, I-_

"...So you're not just using him, then? And here I figured we shared the same goal."

"...What." Mikoto's expression slackened, gaze unfocused. Lessar snapped her fingers, trying to gain the esper's attention.

"You know, to defend Academy City? Hello? Have you not considered how valuable a resource that bonehead is? ****, the boy's done things that literally don't make sense, I mean actual impossibilities! And we're magicians, for crying out loud! That's been the whole _point_ of our contest! Whoever can seduce him will get to utilize Imagine Breaker in defence of their city, because he'll want to stay with his lover! Why did you even AGREE to this if that wasn't your... Wasn't your...?"

Mikoto sensed danger just fast enough to lock eyes with the magician. Whose jaw abruptly fell.

"Holy ****!" Instinctively crossing herself, Lessar continued. "Sorry, God. But, whoa! You ACTUALLY like him! Like, for real, like him!"

The esper felt the world crumble down around her _._ "I-I-I NEVER said anything about that! And besides, I never agreed to anything!" Desperate efforts failing, she could feel the conversation spiralling out of control as rapidly as blood rushed to her face. "No, don't jump to-"

"Misaka-san..." Mikoto turned in horror to see the other magician and her quivering lip.

 _When did everything start going so wrong!?_ "N-no, Itsuwa, don't worry, I-I, a-ah-"

"Y-you like him too... But you still... *sniff* ...tried so hard to help me..." Just before the tears began flowing Itsuwa flung herself across the room, wrapping arms around her friend. "You're jusht sho nishe! I want to be sad... *sniff* ...a nishe pretty girl also likesh him, but you're just sho nishe I can't!" Bawling operatically, Itsuwa pressed her face into her support's shoulder, half dragging them both to the floor.

Unsure how to respond, the esper hesitantly patted her clinging friend on the head. "I-I really didn't do-N-NO! WAIT! Hold on, I-"

"Oh, don't feel bad, Floris is the same way. Poor girl just can't admit it." Lessar sighed, shaking her head knowingly. "It's all 'gonna punch that *******', but it's just an act. Not me though. I'm in it for the power, that's all, it's just a bonus that... Uh... It's not that he's NOT NOT kinda cute... Wait, did I deny that right...?" The magician turned thoughtful, counting off negatives on her fingers.

"Nooo, no no no! You're wrong, it's just, I-"

"Mishaka-shan, you're shtill trying!? Oh, you're sho-" [2]

"So if said "not-cute" there, would that have-"

"Could you three PLEASE knock it off!?" All turned as one as Othinus ripped off her covers, living after lying prone so long on her table-borne miniature cot. "I did a lot of running around today. Cease your inane prattle and let me get to sleep." Silence descended and she rolled around to face the wall, falling mute.

For a moment it appeared her wish would be granted, but instead Lessar laughed aloud, clambering over the couch yet again. "That's not the real reason you're annoyed, is it? Is it, Little-Miss-Magic-God?" Her tail whipped out and bumped the table's leg, jerking the tiny bed around. "Come, admit it! Admit it!"

The implication sung home. "You, too?" Emotionally drained, it was all Mikoto could do to moan. "Of course. Of course you too." She felt a hand pat her on the shoulder.

"It'sh okay, Mishaka-shan... *sniff* I know how you feel." Though comforted a moment by Itsuwa's gentle touch, the esper quickly snapped alert.

"I-I'm NOT feeling ANYTHING! A-agh, l-look, Itsuwa-san-" But she was embraced all the firmer by the weepy girl, and forced to search about for a tissue before she drowned them both in emotion.

"-tupid bratty cailleach, cease immediately! I admit nothing about that human! Leave! Me! Be!"[3] Othinus cried out from the cover of her specialized furniture, unable to fend off a barrage of pokes from Lessar's tail. But the magician was enjoying herself far too much to be deterred.

"Oh-ho-ho! Hit a nerve did I? Come on, it's just girl talk, you can tell us, failed-God! Tell us why you like him, huh?" The Magic-God finally retaliated, leaping with startling agility to wrap tiny hands around her surprised enemy's throat.

"Not a chance, and for several billion reasons! Cease, mortal, or I'll-" Grip faltering as she discovered the emptiness of her threats, she cast about for salvation. "-I'll, I'll tell HIM!"

The chaos stilled.

The four made a cold tableau as the weight of that threat sunk home. Even the Magic-God hesitated.

It was this scene that Index intruded upon, hair still wrapped in an oversize towel. Her head tilted in dog-like confusion.

"...Why is everyone hugging? Are we having a party? What did I miss?"

Mikoto, Itsuwa, Lessar, and Othinus didn't even have to exchange a look.

" **NOTHING**."

"W-what's with that response? ...You weren't talking about me, were you!?"

!~~~~~~~~!

9:57 P.M., December 26th: London: St. George's Cathedral: Underground tunnels

The halls were no less dark, but a certain unfortunate boy had weightier fears on his mind. Corridors and chambers all looked alike, but Touma pressed on, eyes tracking only his own feet. It wasn't until a hand slipped through the bars of a thick wooden door to grasp his shoulder that he stopped.

"Ah! Kamijou, you did come. Here I was thinking you'd... Ah, are you all right?" Amazo's gave the boy a few careful looks. Finally Touma refocused, squinting through the blackness.

"Y-yeah, sorry, distracted. Just had this awful chill run down my back. Hey, Amazo." He paused, mid casual wave. "Oh, this isn't my room."

"...No, these are my 'quarters'. What did you think... Did you forget the tale I wove? Of my past? And how you promised to hear more tonight? Tell me I wasn't defeated by someone so absentminded."

Touma frantically nodded as it all came back. "R-right, right, yeah! Saving Catherine, your story, yeah. The scary assistant lady." The magician's eyes narrowed, but abruptly he sighed.

"...Don't rightfully know why you're here if you can't remember... Very well. Let us continue where I left off."

!~~~~~~~~!

Not quite so long ago, Terrance Bennett, under the alias The Amazing Amazo, was a rising star. All along the west coast he made a name for himself, graduating quickly from casino gigs to television spotlights. A growing legion of fans, attracted by his bright attitude and easy smile, carried him to fame and fortune. And unlike most who rise so rapidly to fame, this magician was careful. He invested in his own program, became his own manager, and carefully built up his brand. Amazo became impossible to ignore.

He even sought to unite the disparate network of Protestant magicians into something of a cabal, unheard of in the individualist US. But through force of personality and promises of mutual support, a fragile alliance was drafted to meet the rapidly changing world, responding to a rising Academy City. It wasn't much, but the magician named Terrance Bennett was young; there would be time to meet the challenges.

Until he ran into the cartel that would be his ruin.

At this time they were merely a powerful group of media moguls, not yet headed by the young and glamorous Olay Blueshake, architect of an American presidency.[4] Though their portfolio was vast and control well-established, they noticed the up-and-coming magician rocking the east coast. They made him an irresistible offer: join as one of their privileged entertainers, and be assured success for all time. They could guarantee support and publicity for as long as he wished to perform, so long as he bent the knee and paid the price.

He refused them.

It was one thing to work with and support fellow magicians and Magicians, but something about this mega-group of investors rank of deception, of monopoly and greed. Pride was no small influence, but he cast aside their offers, temptations, and deals to set upon his own path.

From that day forth, he was a pariah.

Overnight, the once beckoning world turned away. Every venue closed its doors, every sponsor broke their contracts. Public opinion remained strong, but in short order it became very hard to find a showing of the Amazing Amazo.

Favours called in from friends magical or Magical were useless: in America as nowhere else, money reigned supreme. One by one, his erstwhile allies and colleagues fell aside, dropped their support, or denounced him entirely. It just wasn't worth the trouble the cartel were willing to inflict.

But Terrance Bennett fought back. He staged elaborate publicity stunts, made charismatic talk shows appearances, embroiled in bitter legal battles with his foes. Funded out of his own pocket, for a brief time he was a champion of the people. The show went on.

Then came the accident.

Several cables snapped at once, and two safety measures failed to engage: it's questionable just how much an accident it was. A routine stunt turned disastrous; Amazo's True Magic saved his audience's lives, moved them from danger, but could not hide the wreckage of his act.

The veneer was gone. Though no one suspected his real powers, suddenly Amazo was not so safe a bet.

And the very next day, the media giants presented their new bill to Congress. It seemed such a simple, such a harmless thing, establishing a review board to ensure public safety. 'All performers must submit full details of their acts, to ensure compliance with safety protocols'.

The cartel must have expected this to have hamstring their foe's efforts to operate independently: they could not have known how damning it really was. There was no time to adapt his craft, even if he had the stomach for it. For Terrance Bennett, whose acts were equal part stagecraft and True Magic, it meant the end.

And in the end, he fled. He left his California company dissolved and defunct, defaulted on his loans, and skipped town. He fled like a coward, as far as he could, before finding himself stone drunk outside a Bostonian bar, drowning in the west coast rain.

!~~~~~~~~!

"...I still remember the sound. The heels of my tattered dress-shoes, clicking staccato on the slick cobblestone road. Just loud enough to hear over the evening storm.

"But even then, as far as I'd fallen, I couldn't ignore the men who stepped out to block my haggard path and the thin road's exit. Behind me were more, dark and shadowy figures.

"I still don't know why they followed me, what they sought to gain. Even in my disreputable state I could feel the rush of their Magic building: how far had my brethren sold their souls, to finish off a failed Magician? Did they fear revenge, my triumphant return? Why even bother?

"But even then, I had my pride. I gathered what wits I had left to go out with some semblance of respect.

"...I never had the chance. For what transpired next taught me the real meaning of 'amazing'.

"My memory of the details is imperfect, but of this I am certain. Emerging from alleyways, through the doors of quaint houses, climbing down walls and up from the sewers, an army mustered forth. They were all shapes and size, all colours and hues. In total astonishment I found they were everyday objects, impossibly given life, and even more impossibly coming to my aid.

"It was a magic so subtle, but so powerful, that I could not even feel it. At first I thought myself mad, but my assailants were just as confused. Whatever they tried, and despite small successes, the army of chairs and tables and garbage bins marched on.

"Soon they were overrun, their magics stilled. And between the prone bodies a smaller shape appeared. It faced me directly, and with its small gesture the army froze in tableau.

"'Are you the Amazing Amazo?'

"That was all the quiet voice asked. It wasn't in me to speak or to now. I just watched, transfixed, as the apparition approached. I blinked through the rain dripping in my sodden hair, half-sober, as a young woman took form.

"She stopped mere feet before me. Her gaze locked with mine, and I was lost in depths unimaginable.

"And then she spoke again.

"'I need your help.'

"...And that was how I met Miss Catherine Baker."

Silence once again filled the halls under St. George's Cathdral. The magician known as Amazo straightened up, stretching slightly. _There. That was a suitably dramatic retelling. I'm sure that, this time, I hit the right tone to..._

His heart skipped a beat at the quiet snore.

"...My God. Boy, are you asleep!?" His hand reached through the bars yet again, shaking his audience by his slumped shoulder. "How did you even manage that standing up!?"

"No, Sensei, I wasn't sleeping in lecture, don't make me play blindfolded poker again... Uh-whuh?" Touma's eyes jerked wide again. "...Oh! Right, I'm in London! Oh thank goodness... A-ah, Amazo. Sorry, it's been a long day."

"If you're just going to pass out, for the love of- Just go to bed! You must still have growing to do or something!" Shaking his head the magician pushed away from the door. Despite the boy's apologetic protests Amazo remained firm, waving Touma away. "Tomorrow, tomorrow, you foolish youth! It can wait until tomorrow."

"O-okay, then. Well, I'll see you later, I guess." Holding back another yawn, Touma wandered back the way he came, details of the story already fading. And as he left he could just hear the prisoner's muttering.

"...no way I'm that boring. That somnolent. That, that **soporific**. I'm an entertainer, after all. He's just tired, that's it, he must be..."

!~~~~~~~~!

11:39 P.M., December 26th: London: 601 Dundas Street

The sedan idled by curb, less than a block removed from the prominent police station. The building remained brightly lit as many a clerk burned the midnight oil, dealing with the unexpected influx of business. The lanky man staring at them from within the car chuckled, rolling up his window after enjoying the chill night air.

He settled back into his seat, glancing at his shorter, stouter companion. The man in question put away this tissue he had been dabbing at his nose.

"Sorry. Window's closed."

"Thank you sir, but it's quite all right."

"Always the trooper. Love that about you, money man. Love that." Though smiling broadly as he spoke, the criminal's face fell at his accountant's expression. "You're about to get on my case about money again."

The little man coughed lightly, pulling out the ledger hidden within the folds of his coat. "In losing the tank, we lost 3 million pounds of our investor's funds; the other equipment adds up to another half million. None of this accounts for the 30 men and women now under arrest, 18 more than planned, and the additional costs associated with securing their release and, slash, or, temporary replacement. Fiscally, I can hardly imagine the day going worse. If we had lost the helicopter as well it would have raised losses to-"

"Relax, man, relax. It's fine." A long arm patted the accountant gently on his small bowler cap. "It's okay. We've got plenty more, with our current financier. And besides... You know it won't be an issue for long. Don't worry your little math-filled head."

"I understand, sir, but-"

"And look, look right here, I've got it!" His boss ignored the protests, rummaging around in his thick coat. "Ah... Here. This old thing, that's all she cared about. Everything else was just smoke and mirrors to smuggle it out; you of all people should know that." He unfurled a thick roll of cloth, displaying it's tattered heraldic arms to his blank-faced companion. "This battle-standard, here, this standard belonged to Joan of Arc! The famous broad herself, ain't that something?" Eagerly he awaited a response.

"That's very nice sir. But are you sure that carrying it like that doesn't depreciate it's value?"

"Always the money with you! This, this right here is art! Or, history! Either way, it's priceless or something, I'm sure. Or so she says." He stared at it, suddenly suspicious. "Anyway, it doesn't matter, she's paying. Not even those freaks who played hero mattered. You see, you should stop worrying!" Suddenly he was laughing, delighted by himself. "Look! Even bonafide superheroes can't stop me! Does that make me a super-villain now? Damn, I've come a long way."

The accountant sighed, eyes still glued to his ledger. "They were an unexpectedly costly variable."

"Ah, well. These things happen, first rule of the business. S'why you always need to obfuscate things. That's why it didn't even matter that some of those bought officers arrested my crew despite our arrangement. It all works out in the end."

"If you say so, sir." Idling glancing towards the building, the accountant's eyes narrowed. "Sir, I think our contact has arrived."

"Really? Ah, yeah, there the ***** is. Take a stroll, my friend. Sorry about your cold." As he absentminded rolled up the standard, shoving it awkwardly back into his coat, the accountant nodded.

"Thank you." Blowing his nose loudly, the stout man stepped out into the night. After a moment he was replaced by a ruddy faced man, who sat down tensely in the vacated space.

"Good evening, pal. How's the night treating you? Busy?" The Shark was all smiles, and his new car-mate held back a snarl.

"You're insane. And do we have to meet so close to-"

"Yeah, we do. It's the principle of the thing. Besides, it's like one of them reverse physiologic things. No one would expect it a clandestinian meeting just outside the station itself. And it's not like I brought the limo."

"...Right." Nothing like a smile crossed the newcomer's face, and the Shark shrugged magnanimously.

"That's fine. I see you're not in the mood for humour, thinking its not the time. That's fine. Let's get to business then."

"And get this over with." The man closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. Shortly he released his breath in a long drawn out sigh. "Your crew will be out by the morning. I've arranged for their escape with the others; no one seems stupid enough to cross you, so everything will go smoothly. We'll blame it on the contractors who designed the holding area, claim that they were in cahoots with your people from the start. We've got the documents to 'prove' it."

"Very clever! I like it." The Shark flashed his trademark toothy grin. "Always a pleasure to work with professionals. Even if they're on the other side of the law." Chuckling at his own humour, he leaned forward to grope with a long arm under the passenger seat. He pulled out a solid brown attache case, and flicked it open with practised ease. "There. For your trouble; a token between friends." He watched as the light of greed flickered in the other man's eyes, scanning the bills neatly arrayed inside.

The Shark shut it again, passing it casually across the seat. Though his accomplice hesitated for a moment, he took sudden hold of the money, and made to leave.

"It'll be done. Now, good evening-"

"Nuh-uh. Not so fast." Quicker than a viper strike, the long arm stretched across the sedan's cab. Failing to mask his fear, the bribed officer turned back to his suborner. "And the equipment."

"W-what?"

"The equipment. You get it out, too."

Fear gave way to incredulous horror. "But there's no way! An entire tank, and all that-"

"You'll do it."

The smile remained, but the thin veneer of amicability was gone. All that remained was the predator.

"You said something about you guys being smarter than this. I didn't think I had to remind you about your little niece. Or Parker's little boy, or Miller's poor old mama... But I can see I'm being unpleasant. Is the deal off, then? I'll let me people know."

The attache case's handle was gripped in white-knuckled fury, but the man remained still. "...It'll get done. You sick *******."

"Ah. Now that's the attitude I like to see. Get out of my car."

A minute passed, and the stout accountant bounced back into his seat, sneezing noisily as the car started up.

"Bless you."

"Thank you, sir." They pulled off into the night, as the accountant adjusted the notes on his ledger. "That was another quarter million pounds for the bribe. I don't know why we pay them if we're also going to threaten their families, sir."

"You wouldn't, my little numerical friend. Carrot and stick, carrot and stick. It's not about just one or the other: both give the best results, I find. And when you've got the cash, buy every edge you can."

"...Do you think he'll manage the job?"

"Eh? Oh, yeah, he'll get it done. Trust me. You put a guy like that, who got the brass to think he's the victim, in a bind like this, and he'll find a way, just you watch. He'll bend the world over his knee if someone's got him by the balls. Guys who think they're good are the second biggest suckers around. And if he fails, it's not like it really matters." The London skyline raced past, and the Shark smiled a lazy smile. "Everything is smooth sailing."

!~~~~~~~~!

11:54 P.M., December 26th: England: _Unknown_

The woman stepped out of the hallway, ignoring the shrouded forms seated on two dusty chairs. The first, small and quivering, she didn't spare a glance. But still he flinched when she passed close, pressing closer to the second, taller shape, stooped comfortingly over as a protector.

Only when he judged her out of earshot did he dare a whisper. "What is that lady doing now, sister? I don't like it... It feels like... Before. In the bad times."

"It's all right, my sweet brother, it's all right, she's not like them at all. She's bringing more allies to our cause. She'll help us. They'll all help us. Just trust your dear sister, there's a good child, don't be agitated..."

The woman moved into her ritual chamber, towards the circle. Standing off, still clanking and scraping under his cloak, her ever present watcher waited.

"Hmmm, yes, you do not mind if I observe, hmm? This is all so very interesting. I've seen so many wonders since my return, things to rival my greatest works. I can hardly contain my anticipation!"

"Just do not interfere."

His noisily slid up behind her, but stopped short of crossing the final threshold. Grinding and rattling he knelt, careful not to disturb the elegant sigil.

"How interesting... A summoning circle, full of weapon iconography. Even after all these thousand year spans, some things never change. And that flag, that battle-standard, is that to be the focus? Oooh, yes, I can not wait to see who is next! So very interesting."

The woman ignored him, already lost in the swelling magic that half tempted, half commanded her to bring it forth.

The moment was upon her, faster than expected. Briefly she observed that the ancient power was groing. But she remained patient, maintained her control, and mastered the impulses. Without pause, she spoke the words.

"Cœperunt autem tertium die Nativitatis Domini, et dilectus meus ternio gallus gallinis per gentis prodiderunt!"

!~~~~~~~~!

"Madam, where... How? Am I... In England?"

"Rise, 'La Puecelle'. And fight your ancient foes. Tomorrow, we attack." [5]

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] Believe it or not, half of this was very easy to write. In the work I do I have to write and read similar letters every once and a while. Now, the electricity stuff... That was an interesting hour of research. I'm sure it will still end up being a poor technical description of the powers a level 3 electromaster might have, but I didn't just want them to tell her "be less good at espering hurr durr". I leave it as an exercise to the reader to let me know if some of my math is nonsensical (I haven't take a physics course in 7 years). Mikoto summarizes the overall take away best if you read on.

[2] I recognize that, assuming they're still speaking Japanese in reality, it makes no sense to slur an English translation as I did here. I also recognize that 's' becoming 'sh' isn't a great method to portray someone nasally choked up with emotion. I'll be honest, I just really wanted to write "Mishaka-shan".

[3] Cailleach: Gaelic work for witch, or hag, rarely heard but historically used in Ireland, Wales and Scotland (whereupon Lessar hails). There's more history here, but it's not really important.

[4] I believe I hinted at this earlier, but here's a not so subtle reference to NT light novel 3, I think. It's more convenience than massive plot relevance; why reinvent every wheel?

[5] Yup. You guessed it (probably). But can you guess the identity of the other three? One I've dropped enough hints for that a guess is possible, if not exactly plausible. The other pair I doubt will be predicted... But I'd love to be proven wrong. Until next time, thanks for reading!


	39. Part 2: Chapter 9

**Howdy folks: I'm back. And this time, though my hiatus is almost completely not my fault, it has unfortunately demanded days of my time. I wish I could say more, but if anybody cares this little explanation will have to do for now. In one of my side jobs at a University paper, we've stumbled onto something so big we've had to contact our national news service and seek legal protection. So... It's been interesting. And I still have to mark final papers and exams. And I'm still technically not finished my thesis.**

 ** _Hopefully_ despite all this I have managed to keep the delay to a minimum. I'll sheepishly admit that I spent 1.5 days hammering through 8 LN's (Gekkou and Utsuro no Hako to Zero no Maria, in case you're wondering, both highly enjoyable) just to de-stress. Otherwise it's just been a matter of finding time and energy to write. Thank you for providing the latter: I will do my very best to supply the former.**

 **Chapter 9**

7:45 A.M., December 27th: London: St. George's Cathedral Dining Hall

"What is it about religious people and getting up early?" The tired and unfortunate boy rubbed at his eyes, failing to clear them of lingering sleep. Despite his own weariness the Cathedral was abustle with visitors and church staff, cheerfully enjoying breakfast and good company. After missing his mouth with his fork for the third time, Touma paused in his meal. "Maybe I'm just being lazy. What do you think, Inde..."

The nun was face down in her plate, emanating worrying noises.

"Nevermind." But even as he sighed, he noticed her cheeks moving steadily. Curious, he leaned into listen.

"...Hhrng... Nom... Zzzz..." As she mumbled and snorted a bun was slowly disappearing into her mouth.

"Index, You really shouldn't eat like that, you might choke." After poking her shoulder elicited only a low growl, the Touma returned to scanning the room.

Several seats away, the usual group of familiar faces were hunched over in a conspiratorial air. Mikoto appeared to be doing her very best to not stab Lessar with a butter knife, while the magician whispered corrupt thoughts into the ears of a shocked Itsuwa. Who abruptly noticed Touma's gaze and jumped. The other girls noticed, and all three stared at the boy.

He waved cautiously, but was surprised to see them turn away in concert, hiding their faces and whispering harshly.

 _Huh. Did they actually see me?_ Touma leaned forward onto the table and chewed a bit of egg studiously. _Maybe I should be glad. Usually I'd have been attacked by now. Wait, if that's the case why the heck did I wave?_ He was unable to find an answer, and so put the problem aside. Instead he pondered the issue brought to mind by Mikoto's blushing face. "...So what is even happening today?"

"LISTEN UP!" Startled, Touma elbowed the wooden planking, holding back a cry. Index bolted up ramrod straight, bits of Yorkshire pudding crushed into her face. Both twisted to see Sherry Cromwell proudly screaming into her megaphone yet again, having snuck into the room. "ALL-RIGHT, you lazy freeloaders, we've got a big day-"

"Uhm, Sherry..." Orsola hovered to the imperious magician's side.

"WHAT IS IT- Oh, oops. I'll turn this off... Okay, Orsola, what- U-uh?"

Touma couldn't hear their whispered conversation, but waited with Index in mild anticipation. Finally their hosts broke deliberation, and Sherry powered on her megaphone.

"ALL RIGHT! So, TODAY, the plan is..." The room fell silent. "...NOTHING! Apparently, it's a FREE DAY because SOMEBODY didn't appreciate our trashing the courtyard!" The magician stomped from the room amid confused murmuring, hardly consoled by her partner's presence.

"W-what!? After all that build-up?" Index's face fell, but her disappointment couldn't save another bun from consumption. "...Mmm-Touma, mwhat are we going to do today then?"

"I actually don't know."

"Perhaps I can be of assistance, Kamijou-kun."

"Huh? Who-" The words caught in his throat.

Behind him was an impossibly beautiful young woman. She smiled beatifically as his jaw dropped, tilting her head in innocent bemusement. The simple beige robes she wore only enhanced her natural appeal. His eyes followed the long path of her blonde hair down to the floor, back up to a neat bun, and all the way back down to her waist in increasing awe. Catching himself he snapped to attention, staring tensely into her sparkling blue eyes.

He realized she was still waiting for a response.

"U-uhm, h-h-hey! Hello there. Ah..."

"Is everything all right?" On others, her glance might have been patronizing. She made it seem like motherly concern. Touma found himself apologetic for having dared to worry the angel before him.

"Y-yeah, yeah! Sorry, it's just, I don't think we've met-"

"Oh, how forgetful of me!" She raised a delicate hand to her soft cheek, and the boy swallowed. "I apologize, my name is Laura Stewart. You can call me Laura."

Index, whose temper had been rising the entire conversation, suddenly stiffened. "Am I forgetting something? What am I forgetting?" [1]

"Uhhm... Okay, L-Laura." Touma shrugged off the odd feeling of calling such a beautiful woman by her first name, lost in the more pressing wonder of why she was approaching him in the first place. "Is there... something you need? I mean, that's usually how this goes..." _So, how bad of a threat must it be for someone like this to show up? At LEAST Accelerator-level..._ But his worries were cut off.

"Oh, no! You poor, poor boy." She laughed a laugh as fresh and bright as a babbling-brook in Spring. "You've been conditioned so terribly by the world, haven't you?" She shook her head, and Touma found it difficult to not follow the mesmerizing track her flowing locks traced. "No, I was just hoping to thank you for your services to England yesterday. Even if Necessarius can not officially acknowledge your efforts, it'd be impolite do nothing."

"R-really!? ...W-well, thank you! I mean, you're welcome!" This was a refreshing change of pace for the boy, and he was all the more off-balance for it. "Ah-heh... Uhm, so. Is that...?"

"I'll tell you more in a minute, but I'll wait for our other guest to arrive."

"Hmm? Who?" Touma turned around, and recognized the end of his ease approaching.

Mikoto had gotten up from her seat and was already stomping across the hall. Behind her Itsuwa quaked in terror, trying to shout a warning past the hands of Lessar, who was muffling the other magician while holding back uproarious laughter of her own.

In a moment she was upon them. "Hey! Idiot! What do you think you're up to...!?" She was cut off by a sudden movement.

Distracted from her target, Mikoto turned to see Laura had bowed deeply towards them both. The annoyance on her face quickly flashed to bewilderment, and she took a step back as the woman straightened back up.

"I must also thank you, Misaka-san, for your work back in the Mall yesterday." Sensing a pause the esper began to interject, but recovered too slow. "I've heard stories about your abilities, but I never expected that strong a morality to come with such power."

Thrown off balance by the unexpected development, it was all Mikoto could do to switch to diplomatic mode. "Aaah... Uh, yes! Of course, you're very welcome, but it was the least I, ah, _we_ could do!" She was finding it difficult to ignore the charm this mysterious woman exuded. It reminded her of a certain someone, which broke the spell almost instantly. "A-anyway! Who exactly are you?"

"Misaka, this is Laura Stewart-san." Though Touma tried to explain, she waved a delicate hand insistently.

"Please, call me Laura! We English prefer to be less cordial with our honoured guests."

"That name..." Index's muttering caught their attention, but she remained oblivious as she started yet another bun. "...It's strange. I never forget anything, but I feel like this is important..."

She looked down on the nun with a wry smile. "I'm not too surprised; the last time we met were under difficult circumstances. Perhaps this will provide a clue." Laura produced from the folds of her dress an ornate badge of gold, a shield crossed by a sword. The little nun glanced at it before nodding understanding.

"Oh! Now I see. That the emblem of St. George." Satisfied, Index finished off her snack only to cough most of it out. "...Aack! You're my BOSS!?"

"Really!?" Touma's awe grew as Mikoto's suspicion deepened, but Laura laughed away their concerns with cherubic purity.

"It's true. After all, I am the Archbishop of St. George's Cathedral."

Though taken aback, Mikoto quickly began piecing things together. "W-wait! If you're the head of this Cathedral, and this is the base of Necessarius, then you're the head of this all!? And all these people" _She must be the most important magician in England, and she looks like THIS!? I thought all these nuns were bad enough, but how is that Idiot's life even LIKE this!?_

"Yes. I guess you could say I'm in charge. Which is why I've come to you today."

"So-o..." Mikoto glanced at Touma, and realized they were on the same page. Together they turned back towards their host. "W-what is it we can do for you?"

"I was coming to solve Kamijo-san's problem, now that the bulk of my seasonal work is out of the way. To show my appreciation, would you all please accompany me on a little guided tour of London?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"At least I'm not cold." Touma muttered to himself, blessing again the warmth of his remarkably durable coat. He squinted against the harsh morning sun, wondering how all three came to be waiting outside the Cathedral tall wrought iron fence.

"What the heck just happened?" On his left stood Mikoto, surveying the church's empty street-front under the shadow of her hand. "I mean, a London tour from an archbishop? How is this the most probable thing to happen on this trip?"

"I don't know either. This whole holiday thing was strange from the start. Usually these guys all just assume saving the day is my day job."

"That would have been a pun in English, you know."

"Really? Maybe I'm learning more than I thought..." He rubbed his chin, and Mikoto snorted.

"It has to be intentional, Idiot." But he could tell she was hiding a smile, and so tried to push his luck.

"I was intentionally complaining, doesn't that count?" That brought a chuckle, and she hid her lips behind a mitten.

"Well, it _is_ something you're good at."

That could not stand. "That's unfair! I think I barely complain at all! I didn't during World War III, or when when everyone was trying to kill me and Othinus; I didn't even complain when I got yet _another_ roommate at the end of it!"

"I don't know, it seems like you complain every time I run into you in Academy City."

"That's not exactly complaining, that's... That's more like..."

"Yeah?"

"No, I take that back. I'd rather admit I was complaining."

"Mmmhm. Right." The girl shook her head, trying not to imagine the answer Touma choked back. Instead she impatiently stepped onto the sidewalk. "What are we waiting for again? Something about our ride?"

Appropriately on cue a heavy gate slammed open, a hundred feet down the street. Both weer surprised to hear the clattering of hooves emerge from the church grounds.

"Whoa! What a fancy carriage! And this one has real horses!" [2] A pair trotted down the street pulling their load behind them, blowing steam into the light wind. Up high on the driver's bench were, bizarrely, Lessar and Itsuwa. The latter waved shyly, as the former slid to the ground.

"What are you two doing? I thought you were writing some test today." Despite Mikoto's question the magician tried to brush past.

"We are. Just bringing this out while the Boss Lady gets ready." Lessar sidled up to Touma, who did his very best to maintain some personal space. "But enough about us. Good morning, handsome; sleep well?"

"Ah, Good morning, Lessar-san. And kinda. I'm still not convinced my room isn't haunted, though."

"U-uh... W-well, I know some GREAT exorcism techniques. I should maybe come to your room tonight and-!" The magician cringed as her name was shouted from back within the cathedral walls. "Ah, ****."

"Lessar! Lessar, I was told to get things ready: if you're going for a joy-ride I'll tan your-" From the garage doors Floris's blonde head poked out, followed shortly by the rest of her. "Lessar, get your *** inside and write that test! You're making us look worse than you normally do! And stop dragging Itsuwa into your trouble-making." The New Light's ostensible leader stomped down the sidewalk before stopping abruptly to stare at Touma. "Of course you're the reason."

"Oh, hey there Flori-Wwargh-!" He tumbled past a surprised Mikoto, crashing into a snowbank. Without thinking she ran to his side and defence, powering up an attack, but was shocked as Imagine Breaker grasped her arm. Her power fizzled as the boy pulled himself upright, sputtering through snow. "W-what did I do!? I thought you weren't going to attack me!"

"It's not a holiday. You should be just glad I don't skewer you right here, but I expect the Archbishop wouldn't approve. It's almost worth it." She shook a fist, but turned to head back inside. "Lessar, your fun is over."

As her colleague left, the younger magician shook her head. "Guess I was wrong. She really does hate you."

"LESSAR! MOVE it!"

"Right, right, keep your panties on. That's my job, isn't it, lover boy?"

"What's that? Sorry, I have snow in my ears."

"Oh well... Guess I'll just see you tonight, then! Because your esper friend has you for the day, I'll say good-bye for now. Take good care of him!" She blew a kiss and sauntered away, as Mikoto was left stammering.

"W-whoa, what does that mean!? Hey! I'm talking to you, get back here!"

"Sorry, Misaka-san, I think we have to go." She turned as Itsuwa hesitantly dropped down from her perch. "A-ah... Good morning K-Kamijou-kun! Good-bye Kamijou-kun!" She quickly sprinted away as Touma belatedly waved. With her disappearance the street turned silent.

"Well, that was interesting." As he straightened fully he jostled Index, abruptly woken from her drowsy lean against the church's high fence.

"Whu-wha? T-Touma..." Blinking alert, she stifled a yawn. "Why are you covered in snow?"

"Enjoying London's winter?" The feminine voice cut off any response Touma could give. He turned with the girls to see the Archbishop had mysteriously appeared, in a long coat of heavy wool fit like a tailored dress. Beside her stood a younger girl, her short blonde hair obscured by both a soft black cap and light pink scarf around her neck. The stranger was silent, but the Archbishop hid a sly laugh behind gloved hands. "I thought you would have had enough on Christmas."

"Ah... a-ahaah, y-yeah." In a flurry of motion, the boy swept the snow from his coat, avoiding everyone's gaze in moderate humiliation. "The snow, it's very... v-very soft. "

"I see. It's good to see you two, as well." Her impish grin turned fully warm as she addressed Index and Mikoto. "I hope everyone is ready for our little tour today!"  
"Well, sure, but..." Everyone followed the esper's stare as it fell on the unnamed girl. The stranger had been idly gazing down the street, clearly struggling to maintain a neutral smile, and only slowly noticed the attention.

"...Who, me?" She shrugged lightly. "Oh, I'm not important. You could say I'm something of a tour guide, though I won't be fulfilling that function today. Apparently, and _despite_ today being my day off, I'm the only one on hand trained to drive a horse drawn coach. So, here am I! Totally not against my will!" Her smile remained fixed as she ranted, but a faint irritation surfaced in her eyes. She clambered stiffly to the driver's bench and grasped the reigns tightly. "Please don't hesitate to ask the Archbishop any questions you might have, because _I'm_ not being paid to answer you!" [3]

Though the Academy City delegation eyed each other, their beautiful host just laughed. Wiping at her eyes, she gestured broadly at their vehicle as she calmed down.

"Please, don't worry about her, it's just early. Let's board now, so we can be off." Awkwardly following her directions, they listened as the Archbishop continued. "If you haven't already noticed, Necessarius's staff tend to be quite vocal about their complaints, but always get things done in the end. Don't they?" Her question was pointed, and a sigh could lightly be heard from the top of the carriage.

"...Yes, Archbishop." The reins cracked, and all inside were jolted as the carriage accelerated. Though faded, Touma thought he could hear one last parting mutter. "...least this can't be worse than last time."

"Well, this is exciting!" A girlish smile spread across the Archbishop's face as she clutched her knees, leaning to peer out at the blurry streets outside. "It's been a while since I've down something fun. Being in charge can be so tiresome, and the last chance I had to unwind came to nothing."

Beside her Mikoto took stock, still caught up in the sudden rush into the carriage. She had been hoping the seating arrangement would be otherwise, but instead found herself next to the odd woman and across from a worried looking Index. She did her best to be subtle, but repeated glances diagonally only raised her ire. _I really wish that Idiot would stop pointedly NOT looking at that woman! She's not... not THAT... Argh!_

Taking a deep breath she leaned back. Her hand sunk deep into the luxurious cushion beneath her, and she distracted herself by scanning their ride. Its walls were draped in red velvet, with inlays of gold leaf molded delicately into carved heavy wood. around. A sudden thought came to Mikoto, and after reviewing her diplomatic training for the right title she cleared her throat.

"Excuse me, your Grace, but is this actually a state coach? As in, a ROYAL coach, of the ROYAL family? I can't believe we can ride in this!"

"Oh, this old thing? When I told the Queen I was taking out Kamijou-kun here, she almost came herself. She wanted to bring one of her custom Bentleys: I managed to convince her it wouldn't do for the head of state to go joy riding."[4] Though Mikoto's jaw dropped in disbelief, Touma only nodded understanding. "And please, you don't have to call me 'Your Grace'! I hate feeling so old and stuffy."

"S-sure, of course." The carriage vibrated faintly as it passed over a patch of rough asphalt. "...S-so, where exactly are we going?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"Why does it seem so quiet, here? Maybe it's not normally open during the holidays...?" There wasn't much more the boy could say as he studied the faded stone bricks, nearly white with age. Modern fluorescent lights cast anachronistic light onto the various displays or armour and weaponry which filled the great hall. Experiencing flash backs to Christmas and the Dianoid Touma judiciously avoided those displays, instead admiring the massive structure which housed them. "This looks pretty old."

A few distant feet, Mikoto answered him distractedly. "The Tower of London has been around for almost a thousand years, since the Norman invasion." She remained looming over a case of old gauntlets and helmets, without thinking pulsing weak magnetic waves through them. _Wow, they made these really well. The metallic purity is quite high for the period-_

"Really? Man, I'm glad you're here to read the plaques for me." He had somehow closed in on the girl's side, the sleeve of his puffy coat brushing her arm as he peered over her shoulder. She stiffened, and fought for something else to say.

"W-well, that's not actually what the display-"

"I mean, If I had to rely on Index I'd never hear her through the food."

"Mwha? Mwe?" The nun spoke through a mouthful of powdered donuts, with more in heaping bag paid for outside at Touma's expense. "Tohma, mwha ish it?" The girl tromped towards them, pushing in hard to Mikoto's other side in her bid to not be excluded. All three were now squished around the display, sandwiching the esper in closer to a certain someone.

She fought back weakly, unsure of how to react. "W-w-wait, hold on! A-a-ah, I-I can't, we're-" She got a mouth of hair as Index stooped in front of her. Suddenly annoyance was the only route. "Pfft-pheh! Hey, you obstinate nun! Mov-"

"Oh! I see you found this exhibition's most interesting artifact!"

Their jostling ceased at the Archbishop's bright tone, Mikoto's hands just inches away from a shove. She dropped them sheepishly, but it was Touma who reacted first.

"A-ah, really?" He stepped a few clumsy steps away, but leaned over again in mild curiosity. "What does it say, exactly, ma'am?"

"Please, call me Laura. And I'll let Misaka-san do the honours. I'm quite impressed by her proficiency at our language."

Relaxing a touch at the older girls compliment, Mikoto obliged. She brushed away the thin patina of sugar that Index had deposited on the glass to better read its underlaid text. "Hold on. It says here that these gauntlets are at least older than the Tower itself, and that there is a legend from that period saying..."

"Hmm?" Touma leaned even further as the girl faltered, though careful this time of the girl's personal space. "Can't read the next bit? I know that feeling."

She shook her head lightly, distracted by her thoughts. "No, that's not it. It just can't be right."

"What is it, Short-hair?"

"It says... W-wait a minute! You can read English, nun! Just see for yourself! And don't call me that, I have a name!"

"Well, YOU were the one reading it! And last time I tried to you ate my hair!" Unconsciously triggered by the thought Index popped another donut into her mouth. "Mmm... You're jusht jealoush..."

"I'm NOT-" The sound of her shout echoing about the ancient halls gave Mikoto just enough pause to calm down. "A-anyway! It's says that they were supposed to belong to King Arthur. But that's all just a myth, there's no real evidence he ever..."

Again, Mikoto paused. She looked up at the Archbishop, who smiled knowingly. Index's stare remained open and unassuming, and Touma just shrugged under her gaze.

Having not found an answer, she tried more directly. "Is this another magic thing? As in, he actually did exist and was a wizard or something?"

Touma finally understood, suddenly as curious as the girl. "Ah, right! I remember something about his sister from the St. Germain thing, the first time in the D-" He shuddered, shaking his head. "N-never mind. But, King Arthur, now _he's_ cool!" _He fights ghosts and goblins, what's not to like!_ [5]

Together they looked expectantly at their guide, but even as she did rueful thoughts passed through her mind. _Great, let's overturn more history. Next they're going to tell me Dragons were real._

The Archbishop's eyes suddenly narrowed, and they darted about the room with sudden intensity. The silence became stifling instantly, and suddenly Touma felt the tension he normally associated with the moments before a fight. Glancing to his side he saw with surprise Mikoto felt it too. They waited the several moments it for their guide to finally speak.

"...We don't know, actually." She said it with an ironic smile, before laughing at her guest's expressions.

Both had stumbled together at the anti-climax, stress draining. Once it left, Touma's face fell. "Really!? Man, that's disappointing..."

"That period's records were largely destroyed during the Norman invasion our esper friend mentioned, and what remained was purged with the old system of religious cabals in the Elizabethan period. In short, even our magical histories have no definitive knowledge." The archbishop sighed, arms stretched dramatically. "It MIGHT be really important though, so it worth maintaining it."

"Mmhmm!" Index swallowed her donut, launching into lecture mode. "Though there are hundreds of spells based on aspects of his story, they all rely on symbolism and iconography from stories invented later, or around his Knights of the Round. Just like St. Germain was a spell based on several layers of interpretation and assumption, most spells just use the patterns that have become popular because it's easy."

"I-I see. I don't really get how that makes the magic work, though." But just as Mikoto was about to ask, the Archbishop clapped her hands.

"...Well! Are we about ready to move on?"

"Move on? Where-"

!~~~~~~~~!

"W-where are we again? This place gives me the creeps." Touma eyed the tunnel's ceiling suspiciously, dire predictions of collapse running through his mind. Smooth beige walls bore a thin layer of grime, coating his finger tip. "How much older than the Tower place is this?"

"It's actually only from the 1940s, you dummy. This IS a World War 2 bunker." Mikoto chided him, moving to catch up to Index and the Archbishop. She had lagged behind to keep the boy company, but was now trying to hide her own discomfit. _I don't remember this one from the history books though. We're not under Uxbridge or Whitehall, so what bunker is this?_ [6]

Touma sped up to walk directly behind her, the narrow hall forcing them into single file. "But it's so dusty! And these tunnels look completely unused!"  
"That's because the Tower is a tourist site, so they constantly repair it. I don't think people are usually allowed here..." _I can tell this place is structurally sound. I guess it'd have to be, but it does feel really claustraphobic._

"Sure is small in here, eh Misaka-san? Eheh..." Touma's presence neared, and the girl warred between relief and anxiety. The former won out as she recognized he was more mindful of their location than her presence. The walls were thick and mostly impermeable to casual magnetic fields; she was nearly blind and unable to ignore her relief at his company.

 _Wait, that shouldn't make me happy! Or should it!? What am I trying to feel here!?_ "A-ahah, yeah! Sure is!" Grateful he couldn't see her blush grow, she pushed her powers, straining for a slight hint of the others. "Hey, I think they went around this corner." _What do I mean, think? Mikoto, you can feel the metal on their clothing! Be more conf- NO! Wait! What am I thinking!? Confident for WHAT!? WHY-_

"Really? Good, let's catch up."

"Sure!" Like a shot she was off, jogging down the hall and disturbing decade-old dust from stacked boxes. Touma raised a hand in a strangled cry before following.

"W-wait! I meant both of us! I can't find them like you can if you leave me!"

The chase continued down winding tunnels, past closed doors and abandoned security checkpoints. Touma emerged gasping moments after his quarry tumbled into a larger room, full of empty office desks. Picking herself up, the Mikoto leaned forward on her knees to calm down.

"Touma! Short-hair! You shouldn't run in a museum!" The esper's head ratcheted up again, but before she could protest the boy spoke in her place.

"Now Index, that's not right. This a bunker." Though this mollified his ward, Touma recognized the problem in his declaration. "Uhm, why are we in a bunker again, ma'am?"

"Laura."

"R-right, sorry, sorry."

"It's just part of the tour, Kamijou-kun!" The smiling face of the Arch-bishop erased all doubt in his mind, but Mikoto remained curious.

"So, why is it part of the tour, then? It's interesting history and all, but it's not exactly Stonehenge when it comes to standard tourist traps." _It's also not exactly magical, which would be much more interesting. Oh, I bet STONEHENGE is magical!_ "And this place seems completely off the record; should we even be here?"

"But don't you agree, Misaka-san, that the best tourist spots are the quieter, lesser known places?" That rang true, but the lovely woman wasn't done. "And you're quite right about the restricted access. Lucky you know someone like me!"

"I-I suppose so..." While Mikoto pondered, the Archbishop turned back to Touma.

"Now, Kamijou-kun, what is your impression? Hmm?"

The boy racked his brains for something clever to say. "A-ah... Well, it's certainly very... safe. I like safe places." _Yep, that was the thing to say. Well done, Kamijou-san, now hide your shame._

But to his shock she only laughed. "How observant! I suppose you guessed that there are several dozen layers of magical protect between these tunnels and the outside." Eyes wide, Touma shook his head and pulled Imagine Breaker into his coat, but she turned away and carried on. "Yes, I expect you'd know a thing or two about secure locations after all your experiences. But I don't expect you'll be familiar with the reason for our visit today."

The Archbishop stepped down the corridor between the rows of clerical desks, beckoning to be followed. In vary degree of attentive and curiosity they obeyed.

The thin hallways had opened up dramatically, and now the bunker seemed hardly different from old-fashioned office space. The only hints to the deception were a lack of windows and the stale taste of the air. The walls were instead lined in sturdy metal shelving, unused save for the occasional box or sheaf of papers.

"It's just a few rooms up ahead. I promise, it's worth the visit." Their guide had turned around, playfully walking backwards in the unfamiliar halls. "I had them power up the generators earlier, so everything should be lit up. That also made the air breathable, which is a nice bonus."

The thought of suffocating in an English grave whitened Touma's face, and he turned a worried face towards his companions. "Hey, Misaka, please refrain from shocking me while we're down here."

It was a test of patience to avoid more than a minor display of sparks. "I only zap you when you give me good reason!" To assuage her anger, she went on the teasing offensive. "I'd be more worried about leaning against any walls with that hand of your, destroying some barrier or something and burying us alive."

His eyes widened in shock, and Imagine Breaker was thrust even deeper into his coat. "G-good thinking, Misaka. That'd be even worse!" Touma proceeded to stare at the walls in deep mistrust, keeping from the edges of the rooms they passed through.

 _I-I was kidding. Should I be worried after all? I mean, I am with him._ Mikoto had only limited time to dwell, for they had abruptly arrived.

The Archbishop waited in a large room, with a much high ceiling than those before. A large raised dais was a centrepiece within, and on it was a slightly smaller table. The young woman had climbed two short steps and stood beside the table, waving the others to approach. As they did so she bent over to lean underneath, manipulating something unseen.

When Touma had climbed up beside them, his eyes lit up. "Oh! Wow, neat!"

Mikoto wasn't sure what he was seeing differently. "It's just a map." _Though it is a big one._ Built into the table was a massive recreation of a city, split by a long winding river. She recognized it instantly despite being decades out of date. "Ah, it's London."

Index had a different interpretation. "It's the Domesday Map! I've never seen it activated, though."

The name seemed only somewhat familiar to Mikoto. "The what? Isn't that a book?"

The boy was oblivious, scanning excitedly. "I don't know, but it reminds me of playing a strategy game! Like Risk or something."

"Those are pretty fun... W-wait, I mean-" Before she could retract her embarrassed admission Index popped up beside her, instantly cross.

"They're not that fun! They're just the only board games Touma likes to play after that one time with Monopoly. Touma! When are we going to play Candyland again?"

"Not before we get back." Absently he patted the nun on the head, but continued without thinking. "You should join us next time, Misaka. Now that Othi-chan is there now she plays Index and I against each other, she's just too devious..." A finely honed survival instinct gave the boy pause.

He turned slowly and stared into the equally wide-eyed esper.

 _Did he just invite me into his home?_

 _I just invited Misaka into my home._

Though each were, somewhere in their minds, aware that just a few days ago she had promised to feed Index, the casual offer was different.

"I-I mean, you said you liked-"

"I-I didn't- I wasn't- I-I mean, I..."

Unsure of how to react, Mikoto cast about for a solution. She found it in Index.

The nun was watching their exchange in visible confusion. But suddenly something clicked, and her face eased into a smile.

That calm spread to the esper, and somehow she found the nerve to speak. "S-sure. Thank you."

The last avenue to escape his impulsive offer vanished. _Oh no. What did I get myself into? Have I formed an unholy Risk alliance? Australia, save me!_ [7]

"Are you three ready for the show?" All jumped when the Archbishop straightened back up, but she ignored their tension as she snapped her fingers. "Watch this." Strangely the map blurred, morphing quickly into a new image. "The last time this was used was in the 1940s. I just set it to update."

Despite being flat, the map had taken on a strange depth. It was like looking down from the clouds through a glass sky. Mikoto squinted, and was surprised to recognize small dots scurrying about. "A-are those individual people!? B-but how did..." _Oh, duh!_ "Magic! But how-"

"The Domesday map is really just a simulation of London, taken through thousands of reference points. We shaped the natural ley-lines into a grid, displwaying London in real-time." Waving her hand through the air above the table in complex gestures and tapping on the surface, their guide began creating illusory air units and drawing flight paths. "We could run countless scenarios to protect the populace and defend the city."

Index nodded, reciting details from memory. "It was designed by Sir Trafford Leigh-Mallory, who was not only a senior air officer in the Royal Air Force, but also a skilled magician. He was considered the foremost expert on scrying and information-gathering spells, and he spent years perfecting the Domesday Map. The symbolism is based on the legend and utility of the Domesday Book, undertaken by William the Conquerer as a survey of the recently conquered English lands. It's name alludes to the end of the Christian world, and-"

The nun only stopped at a sudden rush of movement. Lost in wonder Mikoto's hand stretched out to touch the display, but with lightning speed the older woman grasped her wrist. Embarrassed at her presumption the esper tried to draw back and apologize, but received a reassuring smile instead.

"You probably shouldn't touch it, Misaka-san. It is a potent artifact, and I don't want the magic to impact you as... a non-magician." Though still kind, the Archbishop's eyes levelled towards Touma. "And you definitely shouldn't touch it."

"I swear I'm standing very far back! If it breaks it wasn't me!" But he could not resist leaning for a better look. _I see some airplanes, but are those brooms? Oh, right, witches. Huh._ At her beckoning the map became a fascinating panorama of several individual battles, before resetting and replaying with new variables. Their guide went on.

"What's important is that the Sir Leigh-Mallory poured his life into the Domesday Map, and it was vital to coordinate the magical and military defence of England's airspace. This was all before most magical societies developed large scale mobile fortresses, like the Hotel Ariel. You should be familiar with that one, Kamijou-Kun."

Though Index nodded understanding, Touma scratched his chin. "Is that the thing that I fell out of with Kanzaki when I was protecting Othi-chan? I wasn't there for long, so I don't remember it much."

"O-Othi-chan?" Her manipulation of the display halted in barely constrained humour. "Oh goodness. Only you could manage to call her that, Kamijou-kun."

"Ah? Well, she is small and..." _Don't say cute. If I say cute, I'm headed for a early burial._ "...small."

The Archbishop seemed unaware, scanning the room with a pensive expression. "...Not here either then. I wonder..." She finally noted Touma's gaze. "H-hmm?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing at all, Kamijou-kun. I was just thinking of the next places to visit on our tour."

"Oh, are we done here? I wanted to see-"

!~~~~~~~~!

"So, I kind of understand the last few places, but why are we in this alley, ma'-"

" _Laura._ "

"-A-ahah... Sorry." He abandoned his questioning, blowing on his his glove-less hands before stuffing them deep into his pockets. Instead he looked around at the abandoned cul-de-sac. It was quiet and nondescript, no different from any of the other countless dead-ends their carriages had trundled past, save for a higher ratio of store-front. Mikoto was at one, purchasing hot-chocolate for Index from a curb-side coffee shop.

They returned as the nun puffed busily, shooing the steam away from her too-warm drink while Mikoto carefully held a pair.

"Thanks for treating Index, Misaka, but why do _you_ have two drinks? Usually that's what she wants-"

"Idiot. Here." She thrust the spare drink into his coat, and he scrambled to catch it before it spilled.

"O-oh! Thank you." Touma was very careful to not make more of a deal of the gift, avoiding the esper's face as he raised it to his own. _I guess she didn't want me to feel left out. That's even nicer than-_

"Y-your hands. They looked cold, so... Don't drink it that fast!" Cocoa erupted from its container as the boy struggled to clear his windpipe. "That's defeating the point! I-Idiot!"

"Since we're all here, I shall begin the preparations." The Archbishop ignored Touma's sputtering, which continued despite Index's firm pats on the backs. Instead she gestured briefly, and the few other pedestrians on the street nodded. They quickly left the alley, and at a word the various stores immediately closed down. The silence was abrupt.

"Where are they going? And what are we preparing for?" Mikoto had still seen nothing to indicate that alley had a point, but noticed the changes with mild alarm. "And where exactly are we?"

"Everyone you see here is an Necessarius irregular, charged with maintaining this important site. They're going to set up a perimeter, to keep out passerby."

"Wait, if you're everyone's boss, then why'd that coffee guy charge- Hey! Don't close shop, I want a refund, those drinks were 3 pounds each!" But the thick steel shutter had already fallen on the booth and her shouts went unanswered. Mikoto's annoyance evaporated when she spun to she the sudden shroud of darkness that had enveloped the alley, and the Archbishop in the centre of a glowing circle.

"Don't worry, Misaka-san. We're perfectly safe. This is just a necessary step in order to fulfill our purpose here." The young woman seemed impossibly calm for the circumstance, long hair fluttering gently as if tussled by invisible hands.

"I-I'm not worried!"

"I am! Ma'am, can we please-"

"LAURA."

"Sorry! Nevermind!"

"As to your initial question, Misaka-san, I'll get straight to the point. This alley is actually the modern day site of the Bleeding Heart Yard."

 _Is that supposed to explain anything?_ But the words meant more to Index, whose once worried face peaked around from behind Touma's sleeve.

"Ah! So were where Lady Elizabeth Hatton's died!" Unbidden, the nun continued. "She was an English sorceress who communed unlawfully with ghosts and demons! She was only discovered after her demonic servants turned on her, and all they left behind were mangled limbs and a still beating heart. Today, Necessarius maintains the still dangerously enchanted grounds to prevent its potent summoning effects from being misused." [8]

"I forget how handy it is to have an encyclopedia around." Index flinched from the Archbishop's friendly smile, but the reaction was ignored.

"Wow, that's a pretty cool legend. Reminds me of a horror story; I didn't know there was anything like this in London..." Though the atmosphere remained unsettling, Mikoto couldn't keep her excitement from rising.

"Misaka, that's not a normal attitude! Ghosts and demons are not a good time! And a still beating heart!? That's almost worse!"

The esper chuckled at the boy's predictable fear, enjoying her own confidence. "We can handle some ghosts: you must've fought worse, right?"

"Yeah, but I still haven't fought ghosts! And I don't really want to break my record today!"

The Archbishop laughed lightly, shaking her head. "We're not doing anything so dramatic as a summoning today: it'd be unchristian to call a ghost just for the sake of tourism." Touma sighed in relief as Mikoto pouted. "No, today I just wanted to show you the Heart."

The esper's spirits lifted immediately. "That's still neat. Where is-" A flash of light accompanied a loud pop, and within their guide's magical circle a floating heart appeared. "-it!?"

"Here it is..." The Archbishop spent a moment observing her prize, magically twisting it this way and that.

"Oooh..." Mikoto was enraptured by the mysterious display, no less impressed at their guide's poise. "W-what does it do?"  
"It's been tied so closely to London's magical tradition that it can be used as a sort of barometer. It's been named 'Lady London's Heart' for that very reason." The young woman finished her observation with a sigh. "But there's nothing wrong. Nothing. It says nothing is the matter. Oh well!" In a flash the darkness, oppressive air, and heart vanished as one.

"W-wow." _She's the first person I've seen who uses magic like an esper uses ability! Just casual control. Maybe I can get her too explain more about magic to me._ Struggling to not be too impressed, Mikoto did wonder at the annoyed expression the Archbishop flashed.

"Well! It's time for our next stop!"

Touma eyed his drink. "...My cocoa's gone cold. Eh? What did you-"

!~~~~~~~~!

"At least this thing isn't going to house some strange legend or artifact." The somewhat exhausted boy stared up at the massive lacework of iron that towered above them. "Unless the name "London Eye" represents something terrifying."

"No, Kamijou-kun, this is just a brief rest. We have to do at least some ordinary tourist things, right?" The Archbishop's beatific smile warmed his heart, but Touma could feel the weight of many angry stares outweighing her goodwill.

"M-maybe, but all these people don't seem to like us cutting in line." The gigantic Ferris wheel that dominated the Thames' bank had a huge lineup, nearly all of whom radiated hostility at the poor boy. _And it's not even like I'm the one who did anything! Why is no one mad at the Archbishop!?_

"What are you waiting for? The entrance is right over here." No one batted an eye as Mikoto strolled past Touma onto the waiting cabin.

"Are you just so used to power and prestige that this doesn't bother you!? You're rich-girl upbringing is incredible!" He was forced to hurry inside as the crowd's muttering reached a crescendo. He joined the three girls already aboard, and the hatch clicked shut behind them.

The London Eye was unlike any ride in his experience, it's sheer size intimidating as it rumbled into motion. Even in the interior was uniquely opulent, an oblong bench centring the egg-shaped cabin with huge glass windows offering panoramic views. Only their guide was seated, the younger girls too busy enjoying the vista.

 _I'll admit, despite an ordinary start, this has been one of the strangest tours of London I could imagine._ The esper's appetite for all things magic was only piqued, but she bit back the many questions that swirled in her imagination. _We've been in such a rush, I haven't been able to ask any of the big question I have. How did that table work? Are their sensors, or does it just know things? And that heart, what keeps it alive? I saw no life support, but the blood wasn't spurting anywhere..._ Such macabre thoughts occupied her mind.

Until she noted with displeasure Touma taking a seat on the bench all together too close to its other occupant.

"It sure seems like a lot of London's landmarks are tall things. You took us right past that huge clock, and then there were all those castles..." As he mused, he felt an awkward warmth as Archbishop sidled up close.

She murmured lightly into his ear, a mischievous look in her eyes. "If you want another place more down to earth, Kamijou-kun, I could get us into the old abandoned Strand subway station for a private tour..."

"No! I-I mean, no Ma-" Her withering look strangled his words. "...T-thank you, but I've had plenty of subway experiences in London."

"Really? I hear stories that it might be haunted-"

"That's even worse! No more ghosts, please, I'll even taken floating human organs!" As he flailed his arms at unseen assailants, their guide broke into laughter. She flashed Mikoto a warm smile, who in turn blushed at being caught observing their exchange.

"Isn't the poor boy easy to tease?"

"E-eheh... I suppose..." _If anyone is going to tease him- No, wait! That's not... Is it okay to want to tease him?_ It took a moment's reflection to understand what a stupid thought that was. _ARGH, what am I thinking!?_

"Is something the matter, Misaka-san?"

"O-oh no! I'm fine! I'm, _we're_ , very grateful! For showing us all these... incredible things! I just wish I could understand more: Academy City would never be so open with its secrets... B-but you didn't hear me tell you that!" She bowed as she spoke, grateful the display of respect allowed her blush to be hidden. Yet her face snapped upright as she heard a sharp gasp.

She had forgotten Touma remained seated next to the Archbishop, and he gazed in open wonder at the display. "Wow. Biri-biri bowing. I never thought I'd see-" He narrowly dissipated a sudden bolt of lightning, hurled heedlessly at his head. "ARGH!? Why now!? You were doing so well!"

"DON'T ACT LIKE IT'S MY FAULT, IDIOT!" She refrained from a second salvo, but her pointed finger was just as direct an attack. "And while we're on the subject of remonstrance, YOU were doing so well remembering my name!"  
"I suppose that's a common thread with him." Laura was unfazed by the attack, sighing lightly by placing a hand upon her chin. For the first time she looked somewhat sad.

Though well used to upsetting beautiful women, Touma remained aghast at the sudden shift in mood. He was unable to think of a response, his argument with Mikoto stalled.

"U-uhm..." Even the esper paused a moment, but something made her postpone her sympathy. "S-sorry, but how so?"

"It seems Kamijou-kun has trouble..." The Archbishop smile returned, stronger than ever. "Calling pretty girls by their names."

Touma exploded into a coughing fit, bent double on the bench. Index's focus, drawn by the Mikoto's strike, had lapsed once the fight was over, but his distress renewed her attention and she dashed to his side.

"T-Touma!? Are you okay? Did Short-hair zap you?"

"N-no, nothing's wrong, Index. It's okay." He waved away her concern as he un-swallowed his tongue, but realized she had frozen mid-soothing pat. "I-Index?"

"So m-my name is fine!? That must mean..." The last piece slotted into place. "...TTTOOUMMAA!"

While the unfortunate boy fended off the unexpected assault of teeth, Mikoto felt a warm hand touch on her shoulder. Still reeling from the power of the Archbishop's casual joke, she feared the worst.

Instead she was pleasantly surprised. "Perhaps I can accommodate your request, Misaka-san. There is one last... aspect of London I'd like us to visit today."

"O-oh really? Uh... Where is that?"

"The day is still quite young; next, I'll be taking you all to the Craftsman's District. I expect we'll find some answers there."

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] I honestly don't know if Index would remember her stay under John Pen Mode during WW III, so here I'm just keeping her as oblivious as possible. By the way, I checked: as far as I can tell, Touma has never met with the Archbishop. (Whether or not he's has pieced together just how directly to blame Laura may be for various issues in his life may be a matter for later.)

[2] This refers to the carriages used in the British Civil War. I didn't want to use them, because I hate hand-waving away casual visible magic by just saying "no one can see it". Besides, there might be thematic reasons. I don't know. Maybe.

[2[ This character appeared in the Kanzaki side story novel. She's convenient, and that suits me just fine. What's not convenient is that the side story was taken down from Baka Tsuki during my researching of this chapter: this slowed things down considerably, because I didn't have a good enough memory of her character to really write for her. The wiki, sadly, is not quite effective enough a tool, though it tries.

[3] Interestingly enough, the real-world royal family have these modified super cars as well. They are not only luxurious and designed for ease of use, but also custom engineered for power and durability. I've even read about Elizabeth II driving a prince from Saudi Arabia on a tour and intimidating him by utilizing skills she learned in the military. In her seventies. Sometimes a story writes itself.

[4] An underused facet of Touma's character is that he is a video gamer. I approve of _Ghosts and Goblins_ being his only reference point other than his adventures to Arthurian legends.

[5] Both these places house entrances to prominent real-world British WW II command centres, for the Royal Air Force and PINDAR (I don't think it stands for anything) respectively. I assume they exist in RailDex. To be honest, I'm also assuming WWII exists in RailDex, and followed at least vaguely similar paths as the real world counterpart, based on World War III being named such. I can confirm now, though, that there will be no Nazi magicians in this fan-fic.

[6] I hope you've played enough Risk to be aware of the terror that is the Australian Defensive Wall.

[7] Some myths are more metal than others. It's also more or less true, as far as tone goes: historical research can be quite fun.


	40. Part 2: Chapter 10

**Let me keep it short and sweet; welcome to the halfway point of "A Certain Holiday Season"! Though obviously chapter lengths may muddy this statistic, in terms of structure we're midway through the second book of the trilogy. Feels good, man.**

 **What doesn't feel good are the delays. But hey; I'm almost done marking. My research project is essentially finished. The lawyers have stopped formally warning myself and the newspaper I no longer work for. All of which means...**

 **I've of course been sick for a week. So, that slowed down updates. But at long last, here we are. Thank you, as always, for sticking with me.**

 **Chapter 10**

14:34 P.M., December 27th: London: An Unremarkable Jeans Shop

"This is just an unremarkable jeans shop." Though she wasn't planning to be so blunt, disappointment crept into Mikoto's tone. The chill air bit deep as she stood next to the rest of the Academy City delegation on the street-front, wondering why the store's name seemed so familiar to her. The Archbishop was already gone with the tour guide girl and the carriage: their short instructions to wait as they found temporary stabling for their animals.

"Looks like it also sells used clothes." Touma peered in through the dirty window, not evening attempting to read the display signs. "I wonder if there are any good deals..."

"Of course you're excited." _But this is hardly what it was advertised._ If London could sate her magical curiosity, the esper doubted sincerely it would happen in such a seedy location.

Index, already dispirited by the implication their riding tour was now a walking tour, for once mirrored Mikoto's mood. "I don't like jeans."

Touma's face momentarily turned from the shop. "Have you even tried on a pair, Index? Then again, never-mind." He couldn't resist the siren song of savings and began to turn back towards the window. "I don't want to give you something else to spend-"

A haggard face stared out at him from within.

Touma tumbled back, nearly bowling over the girls. Before he could pick himself up the shop's front door slammed open.

A man stepped out, hard jawline all the harder for the scowl it bore. His short dirty blonde hair whipped about in the wind of the door swinging closed, tired eyes squinting at the three before him. Finally he spoke in taut English, staring especially hard at Touma.

"Did someone..." He switched to Index, who flinched. "...Say they didn't..." Finally he turned to Mikoto. "...Like jeans?"

Though already nearly empty, the street went quieter. Though all three were flabbergasted, Touma was the quickest to regain his voice.

"W-what?" The boy turned to Index. "How much trouble am I in? And what did I even do!?"

The man stiffened, but his regard didn't waver. "Ah. You're tourists. That makes sense; you might not have ever been exposed to proper western leg-wear."

Mikoto noticed the change. "You speak Japanese?"

"I do lot's of oversea business." As if that were sufficient explanation for his grasp of the tongue, the man moved on. "Now, I heard someone dismiss jeans. That summons me, as surely as a torn seam or a loose stitch."

The store owner struck something of a pose and gazed into the distance.

"If you intended that to sound dramatic, you failed." He stumbled, and all turned as the Archbishop returned with their unwilling driver, a sardonic grin just barely visible on her face.

He recovered magnificently. "It's not about the image, Archbishop, it's about the passion. And the chance to make a sale."

"I didn't bring them here for you to fleece them. But I do actually have an order. And before you ask, yes, it's paid work." She didn't even have to signal, for the young girl driver stepped dutifully forward.

"Yes, Archbishop, I have the paperwork right here." Her annoyance deepened as she stepped up to the store, slapping the envelop of order details into his chest. "Still struggling to save your business, you lewd old man?"

"Say that next time, when you're not bringing me work, you uptight tour guide." For a second, their mutual antagonism bristled. And then they shared a grin, flashing only a moment. To Touma, it looked like a familiar argument.

But they swept inside, badgering each other about discounts and late payments. With a smile the Archbishop gestured and her entourage followed her in after them.

The interior was as dusty as it looked from outside, the clutter of scrap fabric on the front desk seemed the product of loving neglect. Touma's gaze lingered on price tags, working out the math as best he could, but was startled when Mikoto elbowed in beside him.

"That's not a good deal, trust me. That'd be almost 10000 yen." She read over his shoulder, brushing the hair from her eyes. "You're just paying for a brand name, despite the fact it's used."

"Whoa, really!? The number seems so small, though! I keep forgetting the English pound is worth that much." Aware of how close he had come to disaster, he breathed a sigh of relief and let go of his pant-based dreams. "It's dangerous being abroad. I really need a currency converter."

"Just don't buy anything without a supervisor." Mikoto's grin widened at his annoyed frown, so she pushed further. "I have no idea how you managed to survive travelling without me around to baby-sit."

"Yeah, yeah, dorm-supervisor-biri-sama, whatever you say." He meant it sarcastically, but froze upon catching his slip. Imagine Breaker whipped up, but the response to a variant of her hated nickname never came. Instead the girl was white-faced. Just as he was about to ask, Mikoto snapped alert.

"S-sorry, you said d-dorm supervisor. Bad memories." Though she was content to drop the issue with a shiver, Touma sighed allowed, wistfully oblivious.

"Really? I've always wanted one."

"What? Why?" Her eyes widened, incredulous. "She's a pain when I have to sneak out! If I didn't have Kuroko, I'd be stuck half the time when something important happens." _Plus, I hate being knocked unconscious..._

"Yeah, but it's nice knowing someone cares enough to worry about you." Touma was absently fondling a length of jean he was resigned to never owning, but paused when no one responded. He glanced up, and caught the twin stares of Index and Mikoto. "...B-but the REAL bonus is, they're usually big-sister types, s-s-so...!" Though slow on the uptake, his survival skills finally kicked in. "Never-mind."

Mikoto's mouth opened, but she was cut off. "I think I get what you mean, Touma." Index had a palm on her chin, thinking hard. "A dorm supervisor would cook for me, right?"

"S-sure! Yes! Loving, caring big sister chef!" His vigorous nodding did little to convince Mikoto of his pure intent, but a commotion from the front desk snapped them all alert.

"A-are you serious!? What... Why would you even need these clothes? Why would ANYONE need these!? This is horrible! Soul-crushing! I-I-I couldn't-!" The shop-keep held his head in both hands in despair as he poured over the Church's order once again.

"I thought you wanted work, Mr. Jean Shop Owner." The tour guide girl enjoyed a laconic grin, leaning onto the desk.

"Just look! Look!" He pushed scattered papers her way, and fell face-first into a sickly malaise as she took up the challenge.

Her repose evaporated. "...W-wha... What? I-is that a... And those... Are those-!?" Eyes wide, she slapped both hands on the hard counter top. "Miss Stewart, he's right! There must have been a mistake, these can't be the orders we meant-"

"I assure you both, it's accurate." The woman calmly stood a few feet away, expressionlessly severe.

The shop owner limply pulled himself straight, meeting her stare with a look of horror. "But it looks like a child's drawing! No magician would ever wear these, let alone a sane person-"

"Can you make them or can you not?" The challenge struck home and the man flinched. "I came to you because you are discreet and quick. But if you can point me in the direction of your nearest competitor..."

The bait worked, though from the shop owner's face it was a bitter pill to swallow. "No, Archbishop, I'll do it. It's almost a crime, but it'd be more a crime to disappoint a customer." He took one last despairing look over the plans. "...But are you sure I can't put some denim in somewhere?"

The woman sighed before waving magnanimously. "If you must, so long as the basic principles are maintained."

"Then it's a deal." Instantly recovering, he noticed the audience of youth he had developed. "So! You outta-town kids buying anything else?"

"U-uhmmm-" Touma's hand instinctively went to protect his wallet, but Mikoto spoke first.

"No, we can get better deals back at Academy City." Her confident assertion was over-matched by the zealous shop-owner's snake-oil smile, and she quickly quailed under his intensity.

"Hah! You think that fancy tech place is so much better! I'll have you know some of my most faithful customers come from there! One girl in particular stuck with me through thick and thin; she even learned English by writing order forms and complaint-... Never-mind that last bit."

That proved the last detail Mikoto need to jog her memory. "...Wait, YOU'RE the guy Saten-san was always complaining about!?"

"Oh no. You know THAT girl?" The shop owner's face fell. "What are the odds!?"

Mikoto ignored him, caught up in memory. "Oh my God! You're the reason she was so angry then? Half the time we'd meet up the last few months, she would tell us all these stories about how she was trying to by foreign clothes but kept having issues! She spent ages trying to get pants from you, and then she said you had all these strange problems and-" [1]

"I LEAD A BUSY LIFE, ALRIGHT!?" The order's plan flew into a disarray as he slammed down on the desk, shocking Mikoto to silence. But he carried on, caught up in a whirlwind of emotion. "Bloody church and it's damn volun-told pro-bono field work! Just give me some good and honest tailoring to do! Even if it is for bizarre get-ups like these!" A manic light entered his eyes. "Now, excuse me, but I have a rush order to fill! And just like jeans, order's are meant to be filled!"

His gaze swept the room.

"...So get out of my shop!"

!~~~~~~~~!

"Thanks, Short-hair." Index shot the esper a dirty look as they stood out on the street. "Now I'm cold again."

"I-it's not my fault it's Winter! And don't call me that!" But Mikoto was embarrassed enough to blush, fully aware of her guilt. _And this was such a waste, too. Nothing magic there at all!_ It was enough to make her despondent, after the hype she had been sold by their guide.

The woman in question had remained inside to finalize the deal, but exited now. She approached Touma boldly, who nervously fled a half-step despite her smile. [2]

"I'm sorry for the delay, Kamijou-kun, but that order was urgent. I'm sure you understand..."

"O-oh, don't worry, really! Ahah..." He ran a hand through his hair, noting the perilous looks fired at him from both his travelling companions. "S-so..."

"So why else are we here?" Despite her best efforts, Mikoto was aware she sounded petulant. "I mean, there must be more to this shop than this." _At least I hope there is, because otherwise I'm going to look really silly._

"Astute as always, Misaka-san. And to the point." The Archbishop smiled, bringing an awkward blush to the esper's cheeks. As the girl debated on how positive a compliment that really was, the young woman stepped back to the store front. "As you suspect, I haven't forgotten my promise."

"P-promise? I'm lost, can someone fill me in?" Touma looked at both, hoping for a clue.

"I told Misaka-san that I would show her a more magical side of London, and I intend to deliver on that." Mikoto's eyes widened, but she saw no obvious signs on the street around them. A few scattered people and parked cars gave no appearance of being Necessarius agents like the time before. But the Archbishop continued with confidence, placing a hand on the door's wooden frame. There she paused, and turned to smile brightly at the boy. "Oh, and Kamijou-kun?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Keep your hand in check, please."

In a panicked flash it sped into his pocket, but the magic had already begun. At the Archbishop's touch a grey shadow leeched out from all sides of the door-frame, quickly creeping along the contours of wall and ground. It passed over pedestrians and pavement, and as it did the afflicted slowed to a crawl before freezing. [3]

In moments spread to the horizon and everything was monochrome, edges barely visible. Those too faded, leaving shape and form indistinct. Recovering from her initial surprise, Mikoto launched a salvo of electromagnetic probes, but soon the metallic objects that reacted grew more and more distant. It was impossible, but rather than merely moving away, they seemed to be retreating inwards, shrinking in presence and reality. One by one, they with the rest of world disappeared, and all turned slate grey and void.

All, save for themselves and the door. It remained reassuringly firm, and the Archbishop never lifted her hand as she enjoyed Mikoto and Touma's paranoid expressions.

"Don't worry, there's no danger. But I'll let the Index explain."

Realizing that meant her, Index quickly absorbed the scene. "Oh! Uh, we're in a passage realm, tied symbolically to the function of the door and rooted in the tradition of heavenly portals."

"...That means very little to me and Misaka-san, Index." Touma fought to keep the anxiety. "Can you please just start with where everything has gone? I would like it back, please. Starting with the ground, maybe?"

But Index shook her head, lecture mode activated. "No, Touma, the ground hasn't gone anywhere and neither has anything else. We've been encapsulated in a magical sphere, a hollow field of power displaced from the grounding of Earthly ley-lines. In other words, everything still exists, but we just don't exist with it anymore."

"That's worse, Index. Much worse. I like to exist."

"S-so, Index-san, then..." Mikoto glanced about, hardly more collected than the boy. "It's like a parallel dimension, then? Like in science fiction or something?" Repeated electromagnetic probes vanished into the ether: the girl had never felt so blind.

"No, Short-hair, we haven't actually departed this dimension. This magic does not move us in any way, nor does it move the world. It just redefines the local pattern of reality, using the metaphor of impossible biblical passages to heaven. From this blank slate new temporary pathways in reality can be drawn, linking distant points should they be connected by symbolic intention in this illusory space. This particular spell is named "The Craftsman District" because it collects the locations of magical craft stores in London into a single, artificial network."

The last word was a beacon of hope for the suddenly beleaguered esper. "N-network? So, this is... Kinda like the internet? And we can get to places on this path like they were websites?"

"Hey! I understood that reference!" Touma's eyes brightened, finding himself on firmer ground.

Index thought for a minute, before smiling and nodding. "I have no idea!"

Though both boy and girl stumbled, the Archbishop laughed aloud.

"What a surprisingly apt metaphor! And appropriate for a resident of Academy City. But I can show you more directly how it works, now that the pattern has completed. Please don't touch anything until I say so."

The door itself seemed to pulse under her continued touch, and colour seeped from its woodwork. The featureless realm quickly filled with detail, though patches of grey emptiness remained. The Jean Shop's front reappeared, but the street had otherwise been reinvented.

There was no sky above them, as the bubble did not extend so far, but the paved road below them returned for several yards in all direction. Before them the Jean Store had returned, a glowing symbol before unseen now etched on its door frame. The colour continued spreading, and the other three directions no longer ended in void.

Directly behind them and across the original road had been an steel office building. Now it was replaced by a second bubble containing a curio shop, advertising the cheapest palm-readings in Newham. Its closest edge flattened like a soap bubble to their own, the different colour of its pavement creating a blurry transition, but their bubbles seemed linked.

It was not alone, for perpendicular to the Jean Shop were two more bubbles. To the right a detective agency promised impeccable services; opposite that an innocuous liquor store's neon lights glitzed brightly. Yet each had that same symbol on their door, their similarly-sized bubbles tightly squeezed up against the Jean shops's. They faced directly towards the Jean's story front, creating a T shape that would be impossible in any ordinary street.

"O-okay, this isn't exactly like the internet." _But at least I can feel metal again._ She reached out to the Jean Shop's window, which was reassuringly solid.

"No, but we can travel between locations quite efficiently like this." The Archbishop smiled broadly before striding across to curio shop. She waved the others across, but Touma hesitated.

"Wait. How can I even be here? Imagine Breaker should be negating this." _Throwing me into an endless limbo of grey forever but don't think about that, don't._ Sensing his paranoia, their guide bestowed an easy smile.

"The magic isn't actually directly interacting with us, or your Imagine Breaker. It's working in a big bubble around us and other connected nodes. So as long as Imagine Breaker doesn't touch any doors, the magic won't be disrupted." She paused in thought. "Actually, I wouldn't even brush the edges. The rest of us are fine to do so because the exterior isn't a hard vacuum, but I actually don't know what would happen if you instantly negated part of The Craftsman District from within."

He swallowed hard, but realized as the others moved on that he was being left behind. Imagine Breaker locked away in folds of jacket he darted after them, crossing the threshold with visible fear. When nothing rang out he sighed, starting to listen to the Archbishop's continued explanation.

"We call it the Craftsman District, but that has become a somewhat inaccurate moniker. Only a few actually create magical goods these days. Now, most provide magical services. Necessarius doesn't approve of freelance magicians, but at times we find it useful to employ experts in certain fields. Whether it be the manufacturing of magical restraints, those adept in dead magical languages, or simply those with a knowledge of curios and rituals. All operating under strict oversight, of course." They passed through another bubble, but this time Mikoto hesitated.

"Hey, hold on. That bubble there should lead back to that liquor store." In it's place was a bookstore, but the Archbishop waved the concern aside.

"This network doesn't care about relative position. The bubbles are connected in a non-euclidean way."

"Oh... That's wonderful." _Kuroko would be enthralled. She loves multi-dimensional math._

"Oh, wait! Isn't it like that one bunch of British movies..." All eyes turned to Touma, who was racking his brain for the reference. "Wasn't there that street or something dedicated to magic?" Index quickly raised her hand.

"Do you mean Coronation Street? It's been on the T.V. here a lot. I don't remember seeing any magic in it, though."

"...I don't think that's it, but now I can't remember the actual name."

"Are you two dense!?" Mikoto's disbelief was obvious, haranguing her confused colleagues with broad gestures. "How can you confuse a soap opera with Harry Potter!?"

"Ah, now I understand the reference. That children's work." The Archbishop seemed just as out of touch, but shook her headlong hair swinging dangerously close to the borders of reality. "It's not so much a street, as in two parallel rows. Shops are always connected by three points, but the structure can be somewhat maze-like. Please don't get lost; it would difficult to regroup within, and impossible for the three of you to leave normally."

"Right. Be afraid. I can do that." But Touma's confidence was short-lived.

"And don't misunderstand: the Church of England is not a magical organization, and Necessarius as I lead it is not a coven or cult. We're merely a religious organization that uses magic to counter other magic gone too far. We control The Craftsman District to prevent it's misuse: we did not make it."

The mood had turned sombre at their guide's stern tone. Mikoto's hesitated, but realized that answered one of her biggest questions about the magical world. "...So, it likes you're not scientists, but just people that are willing to use scientific tools? To stop mad scientists, or something?"

"Another reasonable analogy. Though sometimes I fear we slip too far into what we seek to destroy." The serious expression on their guide wavered for an instant: for a brief moment she seemed almost rueful, but soon a more measured look returned. "But enough of existential worries. I took you here to do some business, but also to show you the London's most magical side."

With that the Archbishop strode into the curio store, the other hurrying behind. She waved at the shop-owner fondly, and the woman blanched in shock but waved back, albeit jerkily. Mikoto's eyes ran hungrily over the various knick-knacks, imagining arcane potential flowing within. _Maybe this glass skull does something with dead people or ghosts? That would make sense. And this embossed silver cross, that HAS to be interesting!_

"Sorry, miss, those are just for display. To fool suckers in. ...A-as I'm sure your discerning eye noticed!" The shop-owner's apology robbed the moment of its glamour, but she abruptly disappeared into a side room, shouting out from within. "B-but don't worry! If it's for the Archbishop, I'll bring out the good stuff! Just a moment, please!"

Mikoto blush faded quickly. _Embarrassment aside... NOW we're getting somewhere!_ But her excitement again subsided as their guide laid a cautioning hand on her shoulder.

"I'll warn you in advance not to touch anything with out asking Index or myself first though, Misaka-san. Many items will prove unintentionally dangerous to an esper." Her smile remained as she turned to Touma, but her eyes took on a steely glint. "You just shouldn't touch anything."

"I swear my hand is put away! I won't be causing any damages!"

"Good. Since the church doesn't employ you, you're on your own to cover insurance claims."

"Those are some of my least favourite things." [4] Firmly warned, the boy stayed well back, wary for potential traps.

But even he peered curiously at the massive wooden chest the shop-owner hastily rolled out. It creaked and groaned towards the bumpy floor's centre, but the woman left it there to rush to the front door. There she flipped an open sign to closed.

"O-okay, Archbishop ma'am, there are the items you wanted me to assemble. Please, uh, let me know if you need anything!" At that the woman took a few halting steps backwards, before dusting busily at invisible clutter on her counter.

The Archbishop cracked open the chest with a light kick, ignoring the commotion she caused to reach inside. "All-right, now. I suppose we'll start with this staff here. It's basically..."

!~~~~~~~~!

"Hmmm." The paper puppet dancing in Index's hands seemed no different from any other Mikoto had seen. It's only distinction was a small scrawled letter on the back, an unfamiliar rune which the girl was quick to memorize. Yet when the nun held it by its strings and twirled aloft, images of several more danced along with it in the air, visual clones. And the doll itself seemed somehow more mobile, more articulate and alive than it should have been. _Despite how neat these last few hours have been..._ "...This is really unfair."

"Very nice, Index!" Touma paused his enthusiastic appreciation of his ward's puppet show to glance at Mikoto. The both sat on a wooden bench, facing a old-fashioned theatre rocked occasionally by Index's frantic efforts. "A-ah? You upset you can't use the toys too?"

"It's not like I'm jealous of her! Or the puppets. My powers can do all that and more!" But she realized she was dangerously close to pouting and sighed, acknowledging the annoyance. "It just seems unfair that espers can't even safely try the stuff. What kind of world has real magic but these kind of silly restrictions!?"

They clapped a moment at Index's latest trick, before Touma flashed the esper a smug look. "Now you know how I feel. If I touched that puppet, it'd either burst into flames or go into a killing rampage. Heck, I know people I can't get too close to or my hand will destroy them!"

"Yeah, but I didn't get to punch Accelerator, so I'd call it even." The two sat in the backroom of Benjamin Pollock's Toyshop, waiting for the Archbishop to return from her conversation with the store owner. [5] Mikoto had been surprised to learn the toy-store she had visited with her parents long ago had an even longer history with Necessarius. But now as they watched Index's impromptu puppet show she became aware of a different issue. "...And wait, how do you mean close? What kinda 'close' things are you planning with this mystery person!?"

"N-nothing like that! Kamijou-san is an honourable guy! I just... You know how unlucky I get: one trip and she goes poof!" This seemed a reasonable worry to Touma, to the point that Mikoto was forced to agree.

"I suppose I've seen enoug- Wait, did you say SHE!? It IS a girl, isn't it!?"

He leaned back from the sparks, afraid to raise Imagine Breaker too high in the store's magical-repository. "I-I swear I don't see what that has to do with it! Please don't zap-"

"Touma! TOUMA!" Heedless of the danger Index stomped from her makeshift stage, kicking the bench both sat on and jarring their argument short. "Touma, you weren't watching the ballet, were you!?"

"No, Index, I swear! It was very impressive, really: I liked the bit with the dancing!"

"It was ALL dancing! TO-O-O-OUMMA-A-A-AH!?" She punctuated each extended vowel with another kick, sending the bench dangerously rocking. But suddenly the bench slammed hard to the floor and the next attack failed utterly. Touma, narrowly close to tumbling into a wall of magical equipment, regained his balance with a deep sigh.

 _Good thing even a magician's bench uses iron nails._ The esper coughed, clearing her throat. "No, really, Index, it was a great performance! The idiot's right for once."

For some reason, Index's eyes narrowed. "...Really."

"Y-yeah, I've never seen the Nutcracker done so well with puppets! Honestly!" _Technically true. Maybe. Don't crack the poker face._

Shocked, Index straightened up, before smiling and bowing playfully. "Well, you're welcome!" With a giggle the girl ran back to the large box of toys the story owner had set up for her, anger forgotten.

Mikoto sighed lightly, but relaxed into a grin. Until she felt Touma leaning in for a whisper.

"...How'd you tell that was the N... That ballet thing you said? She didn't actually perform something incredible, right?"

"O-oh! U-uhm..." Flustered for a minute at his closeness, she grasped at straws for her explanation. "Well, it's famous! You know? I guessed The Nutcracker was probably the only real ballet she knows. Worth a shot, right? Eheh..."

"Oh. I think she was just surprised you named one."

That threw her. "R-really? Why wouldn't I know about ballet? And why would she think that?"

The boy stiffened and looked away, slowly scratching at his chin. "...I'm sure I'd have no idea about that."

The suspiciously odd denial was punctuated by the creaking of a heavy oak door. The Archbishop stepped through, ignoring the thin cloud of dust that her swaying hair knocked away from cloth-shrouded furniture. She seemed bright and alert, despite spending most of the day speaking intensely with the various Necessarius affiliated shop-keeps that were attached to the The Craftsman District.

"Well! I see no one has experienced any magical cross-contamination side-effects while I've been away! That's good." Her easy smile did nothing to quell the sudden flutter in Touma's heart.

"S-side effects? Like with T.V. medications? W-what do you mean, like what!?"

"Oh, you didn't know?" Their guide looked pensive a moment. "There's a chance that, when in close proximity to several different varieties of magical artifacts, remnants of one object's iconography can be carried over into another, corrupting the second spell's intent. The result can vary from mild irritation to complete immolation."

"Immol-? ...AAGH!" Touma's leapt to the room's centre, as far from any magical object he could place himself. There he spun, Imagine Breaker raised in panic, until he recognized Mikoto's restrained laughter. Suddenly the Archbishop's smile seemed a little too broad, eyes a little too bright even for her. "A-ah! You're joking. Oh thank gosh you're joking."

"Yes, I am. Something like that wouldn't effect you and Imagine Breaker anyway, silly." The beautiful young woman's playful tone brought him past the edge of embarrassment and he turned away, acutely aware that Mikoto's laughter had abruptly choked off. But the Archbishop dropped onto the bench next to the annoyed epser. "No, that sort of problem is reserved for those without any magical ability."

"Ahah... Yes, pull the other leg, I've charged it with electricity." _It's only funny when you try in on him. At least until you start flirting, you- No, no! Keep it together._

"You're too sharp for me, Misaka-san." Their guide laughed loudly, elbowing the esper with a complete lack of decorum. "No, as long as you haven't been using your own abilities on the artifacts, there should be no dire consequences. It could be quite disastrous if your powers intersected too closely with the magical domain."

It suddenly occurred to Mikoto that she had meticulously scanned everything she had seen for the last two hours. She retracted with alacrity the passive field she always projected, eyes wide. She thought she kept her reaction hidden, but Touma's worry-filled stare made her doubt herself.

"M-Misaka-san... Are you-"

"I'm fine! Nothing's wrong!" _But I suppose I REALLY should ask..._ "Uhm, excuse me, but... What might be the signs something _was_ wrong? Supposing it had gone wrong, of course. Hypothetically."

"Hypothetically? That sounds really painful! Are you going to be okay? What's going on!?" But both Mikoto and the Archbishop ignored Touma's interjection. Their guide in particular thought hard for a moment, taking the concern seriously.

"Well, it's not common that sort of thing would happen, so I don't know for certain. The real effects could take a while to appear, but first you'd feel a pronounced flush in your face."

Listening intently, Mikoto nodded carefully until the last line. Her cheeks reddened despite herself. _DAMN it. She got me too anyway!?_ "H-ahah... O-oh! You got me."Playing the gracious guest she laughed it off, straightening her coat to hide her face.

"...Oh, she tricked you as well?" Touma finally understood, unable to hide a cheeky grin. "Serves you right, for laughing at my perfectly justified fear."

"You're literally magic immune, you Idiot!" Her shouted was almost punctuated by a burst of lightning, but some small reserve of paranoia kept her from firing of more than sparks. _Last time I zapped something magic they grew huge. Let's not do that again._ So she swallowed her pride and settled on verbal combat. "And I still barely know anything about magic! You oughta be an expert by now!"

"I'm not an expert at anything, aside from bad luck!"

"That might actually be true, but you're still an Idiot!"

Their contest stalled as the Archbishop shook in her seat. They each stopped to look at her, and she wiped a tear from her eye. "Oh, my..." She calmed down quickly, smiling brightly again. "Don't mind me. You two make quite a show. Like an old couple, one might say."

 **"C-COUPLE!?"** Their unified shout almost seemed rehearsed, as did their shared expressions of embarrassment.

"I feel like we've done this bit before..." Yet Touma's concern was short lived. "But please, Ma'am-"

" _LAURA._ "

"-don't say such things! I don't want to die just yet!" He waving placating hands towards the woman, nearly bowing in supplication, but she chuckled in response.

"A relationship isn't the end of your life, you know, Kamijou-kun. "

"It's not that! It's, ah..." His eyes drifted towards the frozen esper, her fingernails nearly biting into the wooden bench. The light in Mikoto's eyes had nearly returned, her reboot almost finished.

"M... Mm... W-what?" She shook her head, "Pardon, but what did you say?" _Don't think about it. Nothing happened. What didn't happen, Mikoto? Nothing didn't happen. Exactly!_ She did everything in her power not to glance towards a certain unfortunate boy.

"Did something happen?" As if that were her cue Index returned, an armful of toys weighing her down. "I couldn't decide what to show next, so I just brought every- Oh! A-Archbishop!" The realization brought her dangerously close to dropping the plethora of unique magical trinkets.

"You're going to have to return those. I was just thinking that it's time to go, if we're going to make every stop I have planned." Index initial surprise turned immediately to displeasure, and she pouted as she marched back to the toy box.

"You sure have a busy day for us." Touma stretched broadly as he walked to the back room's entrance, but still felt the soreness setting in. "Are you sure you can spare this time? You're really important, right?"

"Oh, not so important as that, Kamijou-kun." With Index returned, their guide led them back to the toy-shop's front and back into the world of bubbles. "Besides, I've been able doing my own business as well."

While Touma absorbed that, Mikoto framed a suspicion that had been lingering in her mind. "Are you looking for something?"

The Archbishop's face became the very picture of innocence. "What makes you ask that, Misaka-san?"

"You've been talking to every shopkeeper that we've visited, so I assumed you were on the lookout for something." The esper scanned the woman's face carefully, but was rewarded with an unreadable smile.

"You're not entirely wrong, but I not really searching with something specific in mind." She thought for a moment, before grinning with impish glee. "You might say that I'll know it when I see it."

 _I call cryptic bull****._ But Mikoto dropped the inquiry with good grace, pursuing the rest through more bubbly transitions. Their path ended outside yet another shop, but as Touma made to enter he felt the Archbishop's hand on his chest.

"Sorry, Kamijou-kun, but you all have to wait outside."

"Oh, ah-?" His eyes followed hers to the glowing neon sign in the window. "I have no idea what that says."

Mikoto sidled up next to him, squinting at the bright light. "It's a bar or liquor shop of some kind, I think. That one from before." _I'm not too familiar with those words, but the pints of beer on the picture give it away._

"Yes, so you three stay here, I'll just be a moment."

Luckily the cool wind from before had died, and though they could not see the sun it still somehow seemed to warm their faces. It was only a few seconds before Mikoto broke the silence.

"Say, Index. What's it like, using magic?"

The question caught both nun and boy by surprise, but Index shook her head inside her white hood.

"...Actually, Short-hair, I can't do magic either. Not normally. And I don't remember it when I do."

"Really? But you can use these artifact things, and I can't?" _That seems even MORE unfair. But then again, she knows all this magic stuff and can't use it, so maybe that's worse..._ Mikoto mused, unaware of Index's hesitation. Finally the nun continued.

"...I can do some things, but not actual Magic. The artifacts we've seen just use the natural mana in my body and do the magic part for me. They are made to help magicians do more complex tasks, or save mental energy. But with espers, just the very act of draining mana is dangerous."

"So I've heard. Oh well. Thanks for telling me, at least." _Maybe I can ask Itsuwa when we get back. I'm sure there's a way to get around some of the problems. I mean, at least for the artifact stuff, right?_

The store's bell jangled as the Archbishop exited, and stepped back onto the sidewalk.

"My business is done here. Shall we continue to the end of our trip?"

The three heads quickly nodded, and were forced to catch up as their guide strode briskly ahead to another bubble. They passed through several more before Mikoto somehow found herself side by side with the Archbishop.

"So, Misaka-san, how has this little tour been?"

The question was expected. Mikoto smiled politely. "Very enlightening, thank you. I imagine it's quite an honour."

At that the young woman put a hand on her chin and gave Mikoto a dour look. "Yet you seem disappointed."

"No! No, not that." The girl fought to explain what she thought had been hidden from her face, struggling for words that wouldn't offend. "It's just strange how... practical most of things we saw were! All the magic I've seen before has been either ridiculously strange or ridiculously dramatic."

"Were you expecting something like the fire and brimstone of battle?" The Archbishop's eyebrow raised, and she pantomimed an explosion with her hands. "Is technology restricted from mundane uses?"

"O-of course not! But I never thought of it otherwise, before. And I still don't understand where the power comes from that makes this all work, but I guess in its use and structure... That magic and science are pretty similar."

That observation drew a brief look of respect, but it quickly disappeared as their guide dropped into hushed tones. "In some ways, yes. But don't be fooled. There are fundamental differences."

"Really?" Mikoto leaned in, eyes alight. _All-right, here we go! The good stuff!_

"Magic and Science, especially that practised by Academy City, are in many ways completely opposed. One always seeks to outdo the other, and make its own system of rules and patterns dominant. In other words, at their core, Magic and Science are completely incompatible. So don't go thinking you can combine them. It's absolutely impossible."

"O-oh." _There's no way... I'm not that transparent, am I? ...No, that's just more of the same warning from before._ "Thank you for the advice."

Their conversation dwindled for a moment, but the Archbishop leaned in again. "I sense you have reservations."

Mikoto's face showed only surprise. "What do you mean?"

"You're quite right, if you're thinking I haven't shown or told you anything really important."

Caught somewhere between chagrined and paranoid, Mikoto forced a weak smile to her lips. _And here I thought I had a poker face. This woman is a little terrifying._

"It's not like Academy City would willingly show even me, a close ally, their most advanced technology. I would only be shown what suits them and their plans."

"I see." _And that implies you've just shown me what suits you. I've been there before, AND I can play this game._ "Well, I do understand things now much better, so thank you again for this tour."

The woman's face, which had become uncharacteristically neutral, returned to beautiful grace. "It has been my pleasure."

The group had passed through several bubbles, standing now before the light marble facade of a old bank. Why it was magically linked to The Craftsman District was beyond Touma's imagination, but it's respective bubble was much larger than the others they had seen. _I guess because it's a bigger building?_ He realized for the first time that the bubbles for each store were in fact two: one sphere encompassing the locations front face, and another swallowing it's interior.

Before he could share his revelation, a change in the air distracted him. And the edges of the bubbles began to gently ripple. Soon it frothed angrily, like foam in a boiling pot.

"Uhm, is that normal?" His gesture drew looks from both Index and Mikoto, but the Archbishop ignored him. Instead she let out an exasperated sigh.

"It's such a cliche, but I suppose it's true." Startling the others she let down her hair in dramatic fashion, but instead of tumbling to the ground it remained drifting just above, glowing with a pale golden light. A hunter's smile bled across her silken features, giving her eyes a razor's edge. "You always find what you're looking for in the last place you look."

The bubbling border stilled abruptly, and Index cried out in alarm. Where she pointed suddenly a mirage was forming.

Four indistinct shapes were slowly drifting into reality. resolving more details, like holograms gaining substance and life. They varied in height dramatically, from shorter than Index to taller than the statuesque Archbishop.

"I'm okay assuming this is bad news, right?" Mikoto dropped into a fighting stance, removing her mittens despite the cold to reach for her emergency coin. Yet she paused, remembering the warning from Academy City. _...But this isn't really London, right? And how can they know if I'm exceeding any power limits here?_

While she hesitated, the Archbishop laughed darkly. "Bad news? No, this is what I was hoping for, finally! But all the same, get ready. We have guests."

The figures began to pop into existence, transition to The Craftsman District complete.

The first to form was cloaked, a heavily stooped man from the sound of his wheezing laugh, a puff of mist billowing forth with each exhalation. But when he shifted, grinding scrapes of metal on metal drowned out the weak noise. Unnatural hands of brass reached up to lower his hood, unveiling an amalgam of gears and pulleys working to shape a manic mechanical smile, illuminated red by gently glowing eyes.

The man-machine scanned his stunned audience briefly and released another gust of steam, moving what served as his lips to shape a thin whistling mockery of human voice. "Ooohhh... Myyy, my my... I wonder, my dear leader, if is this what you expected?"

"I-is that a robot!?" Touma's mouth was agape more in wonder than fear. "That's so cool!"

"We live in Academy City, you Idiot! We see those all the time!"

"Yeah, but not usually steam-powered ones! That's really neat!"

The man before them shrugged, bursting forth another blast of water vapour. "Mmmm, yess. I've heard about these, these 'robots', of which you speak, but I am not like they."

Before Touma could register his disappointment, two more shapes became real.

The shortest form had materialized into a small boy, eyes wide in stress and clad in only simple shorts and a thin shirt. He seemed oblivious to the cold, but clung to the leg of the tallest, a towering woman of broad frame but beautiful form. Her long black gown was tattered in places, but otherwise gave her a dark and regal air. But their shared defining trait was the green hue of their skin, vibrant as fresh spring growth.

"S-sister... Those people-!" The boy wavered between timidity and outright wailing, burying his face in the folds of her cloth. "I don't like the way they look at us... Are they like those bad people from before? A-are they going to hurt us?"

For a moment his sister ignored him, face filled with barely repressed hate. "Tch. The enemy's already here." But in a flash she bent down low to embrace the boy, comforting him in a motherly embrace. "But don't worry, my sweet, everything is fine. Isn't it?" She addressed the forth and final shape, who finally stepped into form.

"Yes. This was inevitable." A certain magician's assistant made her entrance, arms crossed in indifference. "Though I'm surprised Necessarius knows so much of our plans already, to catch us in the act."

"...So you're back." Touma stepped forward, relieved to finally recognize one of the newcomers. His walked empty handed to stand beside their guide. "I have a message from Amazo, Miss Baker. He s-"

"Daedalus."

At Miss Baker's word the mechanical man's cloak ripped off. A long tendril of brass zipped forth to pierce the boy's flesh.

But with automatic reflexes Imagine Breaker snapped up and brushed it aside, metal detritus tinkling to the ground as the power linking them failed.

"H-hey! I thought we were still talking!" Even as he protested, the metal slowly reconnected, linking back towards to reattach to it's host.

"Idealistic fool. I told you before: there is no need for words. If you wish to stop me-"

"I know." His voice hardened, fist closing tight. "It's time for round two. And this time, I'll make sure to break that-A-gah!?" His dash forward was halted by the whip-like intervention of the Archbishop's hair. "Wha-!?"

"I'll have their leader, if you please. You and Index take the green ones. Misaka-san can handle this 'Daedalus', I'm sure." She didn't glance at him for even a moment, eyes locked on target. "They are here to search for something. I'll explain more later. For now, just defeat them or drive them from The Craftsman District."

Touma nearly made the mistake of asking the Archbishop if she was sure she would be okay alone, or if would be better to stick together. But the feral glint he saw, just for a moment, in her expression caught his breath.

"I'll fight their leader. It's only proper, as the head of Necessarius, to not make my guests do all the hard work."

Miss Baker appeared disinterested in the extreme, casually directing her forces. "Daedalus. Begin as planned. Agnes, take your brother and do the same."

"Ooohoh, yes! I take flight once again!" Exulting in his objective the robot discarded his coarse cloak, and his arms morphed chaotically into a pair of flimsy, hole-ridden wings. But they somehow gave enough enough control for him to flap noisily into an adjacent bubble with startling speed.

"H-hey! Get back here, you steam punk villain!" Reaching through the barrier to latch onto a metal post, Mikoto darted after him. Before Touma could object the woman Baker called Agnes scooped up her brother and departed a different direction entirely, ignoring her sibling's cry.

"W-wait, this doesn't seem-!?" A small form bumped past him from behind, knocking him off balance.

"Come on, Touma! Something's very wrong! Come ON!" With an alarming lack of fear Index chased after the enemy, leaving Touma blinking in shock.

"Just as I suspected. You are new to this game, Catherine Baker, or should I say, Coniungo139." Ignoring his consternation, the Archbishop swung her head around once, sending her hair into a tight spiral. "I'd love to show you how its played."

The woman showed no reaction to either her full or magical name. Instead she merely reached into her pockets and one at a time tossed forth a handful small shapes. As they arced air they slowly grew into average sized toys, and upon hitting the ground slowly picked themselves up. Touma was about to give a quick shouted explanation but his voice faltered upon the Archbishop's earnest laugh.

"How interesting! I can tell you used a miniaturized pocket realm to produce these toys, but I honestly have no idea how you gave them life. Perhaps this will actually be entertaining." Now she finally spared him a withering glance. "Are you still here? Get after them!"

"O-Okay!" Fear was all the motivation the boy needed and he scampered after Index. _I was right from the start! She's terrifying! Pretty ladies are_ _ **always**_ _terrifying, how did I forget that!? Why is the world so cruel!?_ But though he worried about Index as he ran, his fear was brief. She was waiting only two bubbles away, shouting angrily at the impassive woman and the frightened child in front of a store hawking herbal goods. Sensing the coming danger the shop owner was sealing up windows with security gates, glancing at Touma before shrugging and diving behind his desk.

The boy shrugged that aside to stand by Index as she pointed a furious finger at their enemies. "You! You two! What magic are you using!? Tell me!"

But Agnes merely gave a sardonic grin, green skin stretching strangely across her face. "I'm as curious as you are, you strange little nun. But you would have to ask the Last to know that, and she won't even tell me."

Touma staggered between them, but paused at the scene. "W-why is everyone just standing here? And Index, what's wrong? You seem really freaked out!"

"It's because their magic is wrong! It doesn't make sense!" His ward was lost in an intense focus, a look he rarely saw on her in situations outside of food and immediate danger.

"That... doesn't seem good. I can't remember the last time you didn't understand someone's magic."

"NO! I understand it! It's just wrong! WRONG, TOUMA, WRONG!" Her feet stamped in petulant rhythm as she pounded his shoulder. "Why don't you get it!? It's just not supposed to work like its working! It's wrong!" As he tried to calm her down, the woman put down her brother, letting him re-attach himself to her leg.

"Now that you're here, we can begin." Touma realized she meant him, and spun to face her ready for an attack. "...You are that boy called "Imagine Breaker", correct?"

He nodded, caution growing. "My name's actually Kamijou Touma, but yeah. That's me."

"K-Kam... Hmmm." The woman thought for a moment. "Her spell lets me understand and speak your language, but for some reason it doesn't work well on names. I'll just call you Imagine Breaker."

"Yeah, no, it's fine. Most people do." _Well, when I'm not being called Idiot._ "I don't want to fight, but I can tell you're set on it. Can you please set aside your, your brother, or whoever that boy is? I don't want him to get hurt."

She smiled widely, beautiful despite her unnatural colour. "How charitable of you! But think for a moment. Do you doubt I love my brother?"

"S-sister...?" The boy in question looked up at her, and trust spread over his features. Try as Touma might, he could see no sign of malice, of neglect or manipulation, as she gazed back on her brother with a loving expression.

She took his silence to be the agreement it was. "So do you not wonder why I would even think to bring such a vulnerable child to a battle like this?"

It occurred to Touma there could only be one reason, but she voiced it first.

"It's because he's far more powerful than you could ever know." She placed a gentle hand on her brother's head and a thick aura enveloped them both. It exploded outwards in a bright light and roar of wind, forcing Touma to raise up his hands in defence as a wave of power slammed into him.

The walls of the bubble shook like fragile lace as Index clutched to his back. "Touma! She's combining some or her mana with his, but it's... I don't... It's doing something to them!"

"That's not a lot of detail, Index!" He tried to step closer, but the rush threatened to blow him backwards if he lost balance. "O-Okay! Just hang on!"

But the attack left as quickly as it came. The bubble stabilized and the wind died, leaving a thin shroud of snow to obscure the enemy. Soon to that thinned, and Touma saw a monstrosity of vines and thorns writhing on the cold pavement.

His astonishment only grew as a huge bulb wormed out from inside the mass, opening and dripping viscous nectar that steamed as it fell to the ground. It bloomed into a flower.

A flower that screamed at him, spittle of acid flying alongside several vines lashing in savage attack. [6]

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] Again, see Kanzaki's Side Story. It's actually some pretty interesting world building, because you see more aspects of the magic side.

[2] Or perhaps because of it.

[3] Let me clarify now: what follows is entirely made up. None of this is canon, or even implied, by the source material. Why have it, then?

Because it seemed cool.

[4] You have to imagine Touma gets billed a lot. I expect it's Academy City's directors that step in to cover the most outrageous costs of his adventures.

[5] It's a pretty famous real life toy shop. I like imagining how real-world things can be tied to Index, because its easier than doing my own world-building from scratch.

[6] With what I've given you, at this point you might be able to determine now who the two green people are (the name drop and colour are hints). It's a little obscure of a reference, but I think they fit well into the RailDex world. Or they will later on, when they are more explained. As always, I welcome guesses, though I think this time Google would be the only way you'd find out.


	41. Part 2: Chapter 11

**All-right, we're back. Let me preface by saying that I read most of NT 15 before continuing this chapter. It's good to go back to the source material, since I've forgotten so many nuances of how the characters react to each other and their environments. (I need to make Othinus more haughty, and Touma more... ridiculous. I've forgotten how bonkers he can be sometimes.)**

 **This book in particular was quite a trip. I don't know how this series can go from everyday conversation to 1000% madness to unique commentary on the human condition in about 3 sentences, but it consistently does. I couldn't hope to emulate that style, so I suppose it's good I put my own spin on things.**

 **But beyond that analysis, (and because NT 15 isn't fully translated yet) I'll jump straight into this chapter. I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Chapter 11**

16:54 P.M., December 27th: London (?): Somewhere in The Craftsman's District 

Imagine Breaker swept up, ringing out as it caught most of the burning drool the creature flung and dissipating it harmlessly. What he missed fell to the ground and brewed up a foul stench, sizzling as it corroded through sidewalk slabs. His arms continued its arc to catch two vines threatening to skewered both him and Index and they also vanished, disappearing all the way back into the creatures core.

The rest of the plant monster's attack missed on all sides, thorny stems cracking the concrete and burrowing down into the ground below. Touma felt the ground shake, and in a moment of inspiration grasped Index around the waist with his left arm. Ignoring her squeak of surprise he flung them both clear as the sidewalk beneath them heaved then crumbled, shattered by the sudden constriction of a dozen stalks, swelling upwards as thick as tree trunks in a wriggling cage.

They tumbled but Touma quickly regained his feet, Index stilled curled up in the crook of his arm. The vines retracted as quickly as they struck and several more plunged forth from the writhing core, replacing those damaged by Imagine Breaker. The creature twitched violently, the teeth-petals in its gaping flower-mouth gnawing at the air, as tense as a rabid dog on the end of its taut leash.

"So much for my opening gambit. Let's try something a little more complex next."

Touma's eyes widened. The haughty feminine voice seemed to come from the vicious monstrosity he faced, but her calm tone seemed completely at odds with its fury.

He had little time to dwell for before the voice finished the creature's main body lunged forwards, propelled by limb-like creepers. It's biting maw of a flower met a hastily raised Imagine Breaker: at its touch the plant's body caved inwards, losing much of it's mass. But even as it did the remaining vines wrapped around Touma and Index;. The nun cowered in the safety of her Walking Church, but the thorns threatened to slice open exposed skin.

Yet Touma's right arm could not be restrained, and it batted away each grasping tendril. Soon the plant withdrew, all the while bellowing an infernal scream. But even as it fled and it's core regrew, more vines plunged around them, creating a tangled grid of woven roots between the shattered remnants of the side walk.

Feelers groped up the boy's leg to tie him down, but as he bent low to free himself he felt an ominous warmth on his back.

"T-Touma! DUCK!" Index's warning aligned with his own instincts and they both crashed to the ground. He spun to his back to see several balls of wispy light drifting overhead. One collided with a vine, and it burst into roaring flames mere feet from his face

"W-what now!? I'm was on the lookout for more plant stuff, not fireballs! That's not fair at all!" But even as even as complained the remaining orbs slowed and drifted downwards, changing course. Cursing his bad luck he rolled along the thorny bed of vines, dragging Index along with him. More flame erupted behind then, and the creature roared anew.

"Touma! Touma, I understood that spell!" Index fought to spin herself upright in her excitement. "That's an archaic variation of Faerie Fire, a spell traditionally associated with Western European witches and magician's specializing in Fay imagery!"

"That's really great you've become relevant again, Index, but..." Touma had threaded his way through the remaining carpet of roots to approach one of their bubble's adjacent shops. "Can you tell me a way to stop this thing?" The creature's central core had fully recovered, it's flower-mouth turning back to its prey.

Another scream rocked the store-front, rattling its windows, and several more vines launched forth. Touma bashed first one, then another two aside, but faltered when they were joined by more balls of Faerie Fire. The combination of fast, random vines and slow, precise fire made the inevitable clear.

 _There's no way I can keep this up!_ "Time to go, Index!" He bolted through the gap between bubble's as the attacks combined into a raging inferno behind them. Still carting along his struggling ward he took several transitions at random, hearing more explosions of flame behind him.

But he heard also the surprised cries of shopkeepers, desperately establishing protective shields or dropping security barriers against the indiscriminate chaos of the plant beast. Risking a glance over his shoulder he saw it had so far remained focused on him, but from the way the creature raged that might change at any moment.

 _I can't let that thing hurt anyone else, but there's no room to fight in these bubbles! Where else can I even go!?_ The boy's hesitation opened him up to another attack, and he leaped through yet another portal to dodge. A rush of smoke followed him as he lugged Index into the new bubble.

It was larger than the others, stretching out onto the street to fit the face of the biggest store-front he had seen so far. A huge neon sign advertised what seemed to be lumber and construction materials, brightly lit up though the shop itself was closed.

"This'll have to do-Agarh!?" Vines ripped through the air around and below him, nearly catching him by the legs. He jumped over the grapple but by extraordinary bad luck a thorn caught on his shoe-lace. He fell forward, and losing his grip on the nun he could only watch as she spilled onto the pavement ahead of him.

As soon as they hit the ground he was ratcheted up into the air, hoisted upside down by the ankles. Though Touma curled up and slapped away the grasp with Imagine Breaker, by the time he recovered he saw that Index had been taken. She was held near the bubble's uppermost limit several dozen feet in the air, feet kicking vigorously in a futile bid for freedom.

The vines seemed to be doing their best to crush the life out of the girl, but had no effect. Though relieved that her Walking Church habit was doing its job, he had to dodge several more attacks as the monster's core skittered into their bubble. He spared a breath between swings of Imagine Breaker to call out. "Let go of Index! I'm the one you're fighting!"

He hadn't expected a response. "Hmm? Is that a common name for girls these days? How strange, but I suppose it's somewhat endearing." The attacks never slowed, a repeating pattern of vines with Faerie Fire interspersed. As Touma's endurance flagged he listened in wonder to the casual conversation his demand had begun. "Don't worry, I don't intend to hurt a girl , so I won't help my brother circumvent her impressive protection. I'm not a monster, after all. But men like you are a different matter."

"But... W-what..!?" _How is she talking so calmly while fighting!?_ In the heat of battle, all but his most powerful opponents had usually been entirely focused on their own magic or objectives. But the woman's voice he could still hear seemed completely at ease, almost distracted from their deadly struggle.

"Hmmmm... The Last told me your hand could stop all supernatural attacks, but I didn't believe it. Neither method I use has any effect. In the past, my brother's abilities were always enough to confound my enemies if magic failed." More waves of acid spit burned through pavement, and the remnants were tossed about by explosions of narrowly dodged Faerie Fire and vine. Though he could hardly spare a glance in his desperate attempts to deflect the worst of the threat, Touma noticed the plant's core had gained a strange glow.

An apparition was forming, a ghostly torso jutting out from the side of the monster's writhing core. He briefly recognized it as the woman from before, and as she watched the carnage unfolding she rested one hand on her chin, dangling parallel to the ground.

"If my usual tactics aren't going to work on you, I wonder what else I might try?"

"Touma! She's astral projecting herself now!" Index's shout drifted down from above, just barely audible over the battle. "Her body is still inside the plant-monster-thing, but-! But-!"

The near constant activity was draining Touma of both energy and patience"But what!? Index!? Index, please explain before I have to just punch every last green thing in London just to be sure!" No answer from above was forthcoming. "IND-!"

"BUT IT'S STILL NOT SUPPOSED TO WORK LIKE THAT!" She finally admitted, anger overpowering any lingering fear. "And I can't even Spell Intercept either, because it's all working so wrong! STOP CHEATING, PLANT LADY!"

The woman ignored their conversation, lost in thought as her brother continued to lash out with vines.

"The Green Death Plague spell wouldn't be suitable, it would take too long. I've already tried a long range Blood Boiling, from a blood sample gather from a thorn's prick. Though you seem warmer than before, I think that's just from exertion. Further, I can't seem to cast a Glamour on either of you. How terribly troublesome."

Though the woman was listing only failures, Touma's confidence wavered with each new addition. _She managed all that WHILE fighting before, and I didn't even notice? What on earth is she doing to multitask like that!?_

"It's no good trying to speed this up, I suppose." She breathed an invisible sigh of annoyance, ignoring an explosion erupting inches from her face. "I'll just have to be patient and overwhelm you." She made a complex gesture with her hands, before clapping them silently together.

In response the creature screamed with renewed ferocity, vines exploding outwards to encircle the entire bubble. They slammed into the walls of the store, shaking the facade that Touma was being pressed back towards. Still dodging he felt more than heard it begin to crumple behind him, sparing a fatal second to glance.

He saw that the two-story shop had been deprived of its entire front wall. At first it just tilted but it broke under its own weight, dropping in huge pieces onto the street and the unfortunate boy below.

Who leaped towards the new danger, rather than plant monster. For he also saw at the last moment that its prominent set of twin glass doors had shattered. The leftmost provided just large enough window to escape a crushing death, and he tumbled through it, landing half-inside the empty shop amidst the rumble of crumbling brick. Around him electrical wiring cracked and arced, uprooted from floor and wall by the carnage. The crippled neon light from before showered sparks, half protruding from the rubble, and he staggered away as one landed on his cheek.

His respite was short lived, and the creature retracted its many vines, pulling them into an organized group. Though its spit and howled to be set loose, the ghostly woman held up a restraining hand, somehow manipulating it's actions.

"Well, this is tiresome. How many ways must I strike you? Perhaps if I just launch several dozen vines at once, you'll only stop half of them. You'll still be half dead, right?" Her translucent grin finally reflected the casual cruelty of her actions, and she released the salvo all at once.

As they sped towards the boy he desperately searched for a plan, but was distracted by the neon light as it burst another tube.

Suddenly it hit him. _Wait! If the lights were on, that means..._

Instead of fleeing, he darted forward, again meeting the danger head on.

"Finally! Die!" The woman exulted, but noted at the last moment that Touma wasn't holding his right had aloft. Instead at the last second he darted back towards the neon light. She realized his intent, even as the monster adjusted to his movement. "No! Brother, st-"

The barrage of vines connected with the exposed wiring, filling them with high amperage current. The voice of the woman and the monster finally aligned, and both screamed out in pain. The vine's momentary cohesion was shattered, twitching violently as they smoked under the continuing assault.

Distracted, the strands around Index loosened, and she tumbled into Touma's waiting arm. Carefully wielding Imagine Breaker he cut a path towards in the chaos towards yet another bubble, but as he ran he heard the screaming stop.

In their thrashing the vines broke the electrical connection, now tossing the sign angrily into the shop. The woman's voice, which before had been almost playful, took on a bitter edge. "T-that actually hurt. I haven't hurt like that since... No. No, I refuse to remember."

Touma already had escaped into the next bubble, but shouted back over his shoulder in exasperation. "W-who ARE you!?"

The creature chased after them, visibly enraged, but when the woman responded she seemed as cool as before. "If you insist... Have it your way." Several more attacks trailed behind the fleeing boy, and he only vaguely heard her final answer over the pandemonium. "You may know me as Agnes, the Green Witch of Woolpit. Now die already, you scum of a man." [1]

!~~~~~~~~!

"So the Idiot did come this way... At least he's leaving a clear trail." Mikoto sprinted over the transition into yet another bubble scarred by ferocious battle. Great slabs of sidewalk were ripped asunder, rising as if by tectonic catastrophe, scorched by fire and explosion. The security shop they fronted was less damaged but its windows were shattered and no one stirred within.

The scale of the damage was beginning to wear on her confidence. "I-it looks like he's having a hard time." _I mean, he has to be okay. But then why hasn't he won yet? Look at me, my fight was..._

Though her worry remained, the memory stirred up something more. It wasn't an easy thing to forget, as its cause still floated next to her, safely imprisoned. She fought back her anger as she decided on the next bubble to try, but the thought proved was overwhelming.

 _If he's still in such danger..._ Her willpower broke and she shouted without warning at the person locked in a powerful magnetic field. "...Why the Hell did I get such an easy opponent!?"

The brass man had longed since ceased struggling to escape, but his metallic parts ground noisily as what passed for his face twisted up to his captor. "Ohhhh, my. Just imagine, my dear, how I feel, hmmmm?"

"Quiet, tin-man! I wasn't really asking you anything!" _AAGH-! Never-mind all that! Now where did that Idiot go?_ Half-blindly Mikoto ran, driven by a heady mix of anxiety and fury. But the man-machine didn't seemed to mind as her motion jostled him about.

"Sorry, my dear, but I'm only comprised of six-seventeenths tin; ooohh, no, actually, it might be more like eleven-thirty-fourths. It's quite a fantastic alloy, lightweight yet strong and malleable, though regrettably magnetic enough that you can overpower my control, hmmm, yes, I'd suspected this formulation existed though it proved completely impossible to forge in my time, you see, the temperature required to render its constituents together was simply too high for even the great furnaces of Rhodes-"

"Will you shut up already!? It's an expression, I know your damn metallurgical composition! Haven't I already beaten you!?" Their fight had lasted exactly as a long as it had taken Mikoto to realize her opponent was formed of brass. Being only just slightly magnetic was not enough to stop the level 5 from immediately pressing her opponent into a tight metal ball. There he remained, to her surprise completely unharmed, and so she forced to take him along in her search.

"Hmmmm, I must say, I do wonder about your powers, oohh yes. I was not prepared to counter such abilities... I wonder what would stories I might reference to prevent you from-"

"Be quiet, or I'll squish you into a, a trumpet or something, you damn windbag!"

"Oooh! But it's been so long! Please, pity an old man in his excitement!" His silence lasted only the time it took for Mikoto to step into yet another bubble. "And pardon me, miss, but what is a trumpet?"

 _My God, does he ever stop?_ Mikoto's exasperation reached a crescendo pitch, but just before she prepared to launch him into the ground inspiration struck. _Wait. I can use this chattiness._ She searched her memory a moment before snapping her fingers. "...Say. Are you actually Daedalus? As in, the Greek inventor?"

"If you mean the isle of Crete, then yes, oohh yes! So it is just as I've heard! My fame endures even to this distant age! Oohh ho ho, take THAT, Minos! Tell my, my dear, oohh, what works of mine are still renowned? What has stood the test of time?"

Forgetting herself in his sudden eagerness, the esper thought hard for a moment. "A-ah... Assuming the labyrinth you built was ever real, it's long gone, but I guess maybe your wings? How you and I-"

"NOOOOOOOOO! SAY NOT THAT NAME!" The twisted form exploded into motion, becoming a grinding, clanking mass within it's magnetic trap.

Though caught off-guard Mikoto clamped down with her powers, straining to maintain the powerful fields required. "Hey, settle down! I swear, I'll turn you into a pretzel if you don't STOP!"

The fit finally ended, and the man-machine claiming to be Daedalus fell quiet and sullen. His face was gone, leaving only a disorderly ball of gears, levers and pistons slowly churning to mysterious ends.

Mikoto took a deep breath, head shaking. She couldn't help thinking this was just a trick of some kind, an AI or clever actor manipulating a robot from distance. Yet she found no electrical current flowing through her captive's body, and could imagine no other way to animate its movements. All she could see were intricate carvings of meaningless form, etched thinly on every part.

Though skeptical in the extreme, there seemed only one way for the girl to explain it.

 _Magic. And I still don't understand how the heck it works!_ Refusing to let annoyance rule her the girl continued her search, sparing only secondary attention to the mystery of Daedalus. Eventually she narrowed down her guesses. _If I assume he's telling the truth, I guess that makes him a, a ghost or something? Haunting this brass crap? I suppose that sounds sufficiently magical. But I still don't know for sure._

Resolved to pressing Index or Itsuwa for answers later, Mikoto didn't notice until a moment too late that her path was blocked. Her hand passed through the barrier of bubble where she had expected an transition, but instead there was only void. A sickly cold ran through her gloved fist and she leaped away, shaking it violently to force life back to deadened fingers.

"W-whoa! Close call." Massaging her hand she took a step back, only belatedly realizing her mistake. _Hold up. Every shop-bubble thing so far has had three connections._ A quick count proved her suspicion. There was the way she had come from, the transition that directly faced a stop's ruined front, and a second exit to her left. But to the right was only grey emptiness. _So why does this one only have two?_

"Short-hair, why are you carrying a ball of junk?"

Surprised again so soon Mikoto spun about in panic, but quickly recognized the speaker. Sure enough, out from behind a piece of rubble that used to be a bench peered Index's quizzical expression. "Ah! Good, it's you. I must be on the right track, then!"

"Oh? Are you looking for Touma?"

Though hating how calmly the nun could use his first name, Mikoto swallowed her pride and nodded. "Yeah. I-I MEAN, It's not like I'm REALLY worried about him or anything, but I want to make sure we stop them all. I took care of my end of things, you know?" The esper gestured at her captive with a thumb but Index remained confused.

Until Daedalus's face reappeared, red glowing eyes peering out above a freshly formed smile.

"UWAAH!?" Her terror lasted only a moment before it was replaced by righteous indignation. "Hey! You're that other cheating magician! Cheater! CHEATER!" Picking up a wooden board wrenched separate from the bench the little nun awkwardly swung it at the leering face. It disappeared just before impact but Index was undeterred, seeing it reform nearby. Mikoto was forced to dodge aside as their strange game of cat and mouse escalated, Index crying accusations with every strike.

"H-hey! HEY! Just hold on a minute!" The esper finally managed to interpose herself, surprised at Index's ferocity. "What do you mean by 'cheating'? Isn't all magic cheating? He's just a ghost or something, right?"

"Magic's not cheating! It has RULES! Which he's breaking!" Denied of her target the little girl swung her club about with passion. "They're not ghosts, not spectres, not phantoms or phantasms, or poltergeists, or ghouls, or, or, or SPIRITS or HAUNTS or-!" Her weapon slipped from her grasp, slamming into the shop's last intact window. Though it shattered loudly the nun ignored it, finger pointed at the prisoner behind Mikoto's back. "Just like that lady and her brother, this guy is a CHEATER!"

"My my my, first one small girl defeats with me ease, and now another calls me a cheat? Ooohhh, what have I done to deserve such an ignominious fate? Oohh, how far have I fallen from once lofty heights!?" His smile never wavered as he mock-despaired.

"I'll do more than defeat you if you don't stop pontificating!" Mikoto punctuated her threat with a squeeze, and for a moment Daedalus voice was lost in the straining screech of stressed metal. Sighing from the exertion she put a hand to her head, addressing again her ally. "S-so, why are you waiting here, then?"

"Touma told me to hide here, because they were only targeting him. Though I tried to follow, he said it was too hard to fight while carrying me, so in the middle of an explosion he tossed me back here. By the time I got up, they were all gone."

"Really. Hmmm..." Though Mikoto believed the girl, knowing full well the desire keep treasured ones from a fight, something rung untrue in the retelling. Index's attempted indifference cracked under the pressure, and finally she lit up again in anger.

"...A-actually! He told me I was too heavy, from eating too many scones! Meanie! He's carried me PLENTY of times before! He even carried you!"

"That sounds more like him. H-hey, wait? What was that last comment!?"

"Anyway, Short-hair, why are you here again?"

Mikoto ground her her teeth before replying, choking back her wrath in the face of Index's assumed expression of innocence. "I already said... A-agh, never mind. Just, which way did he go, then?"

The nun pointed a finger.

Mikoto darted away. "Right, thank you-!?" This time her entire foot made it through the barrier into the void. The esper hopped away, angrily shouting as warmth drained from her leg. "T-t-that's not the right way! I already tried that direction!" It was the same empty patch of void she had encountered upon arriving, where in any other bubble another connection would have lain.

But Index was adamant. "No, that's where he went. I saw him through the bubble, right before he went through and swiped at the connection with his hand."

"His hand? Did he somehow cut himself off, and escape this weird place?" _Typical. He just has to make following him as difficult as possible._

"Imagine Breaker disrupted the binding between the two bubbles, but didn't disconnect the bubble from the spell itself, so he's still inside The Craftsman District." Though Mikoto was surprised at how certain Index was, she decided to take the information at face value.

"That's better than nothing, but how am I going to figure out where he is?" The bubble's only remaining direction lead to an unscathed herbal apothecary, its owner peering bewildered from a half-opened door. "They sure never went THAT way, and I don't really want to wander around blindly all day."

"No, but that store there is adjacent to the bubble containing _Angelical Aromatic Answers,_ on 134 Penbrook road, and we passed by that store seven bubbles before this one. That place smelt nice... Until the Faerie Fire invaded." [2]

"...H-how? How did you remember all that while under attack?"

The nun seemed confused by the question. "Mmmm? It wasn't that distracting, Touma was doing all the work. We went through a large portion of The Craftsman District, often more than once. I didn't know the layout before I came here, but I memorized everywhere Touma took me so I have a mental map now of nearly the whole thing now."

"And here I thought you were the ditzy one..." Suddenly invigorated, the esper made a determined fist, stomping the feeling back into her tingling foot. "Right! Come on then, lead me to him!"

"Ditzy!? T-that rude name aside... Touma said to wait here..."

"You're with me. How could you be any safer?"

"..."

"Don't answer that. Now, let's go find me an Idiot!"

!~~~~~~~~!

A certain unfortunate boy felt a cold chill run down his spine, but couldn't spare a second to reflect. No matter how far he ran, how many obstacles he put between him and his pursuer, the plant creature followed close behind.

Even now he swung Imagine Breaker to catch the expanding sphere of an explosion, but the force still blew him into the next bubble. This one was, like the last few, already battered by their one-sided battle. It was nearly impossible to tell the sidewalk had ever existed, and the shop front was a smouldering ruin.

"Now now, it's so unmanly to just keep running." By now Touma knew her verbal taunts presaged an attack; another gout of Faerie Fire forced him into the bubble's centre. "And I thought you men were always consumed with pride."

He didn't waste time or breath on a quip: instead the boy towards the bubble's only other exit, pacing himself despite his hurry. He felt the crunch as vines lashed just behind him, digging into the ground and throwing up dirt, but on the transition to the next bubble noticed something was wrong.

"...Wait a moment. This place is becoming too familiar" The ghostly apparition on the monster's side had reappeared, and her hand again was raised to halt that battle. As if in protest the plant frothed acid and stamped, but obeyed. "Boy. I noticed you use of that hand to cut off the connections of this spell, but when you never tried it to lose me I decided it didn't matter. But now..."

 _I guess she finally noticed... Couldn't count on that lasting forever. Then again, I'm sure glad to finally have a breather._ Instead of answering Touma grinned, wiping at the sweat forming on his brow through the cold.

Finally the woman pieced it together. "You've been deliberately taking me past only those shops that are closed today, and destroying the paths to other bubbles. All to make a nice, safe ring of shops for me to chase you around. Is that about right?"

The boy nodded slowly, and the woman's knowing smile twisted into a sour sneer.

"While others might find that concern admirable, I detest what such a plan implies about me. Didn't I already tell you I have no intention of harming innocents? I cannot stand such smug condescension from a coward such as you."

Her hand half-closed into a fist, and her monster of a brother roared in triumph, but she paused when Touma laughed.

"Wasn't about... Not trusting." Touma straightened as he gulped air. "But you already... Messed up once in your control. Or didn't you?"

For a moment the witch's icy demeanour cracked, and she appeared puzzled. "What?"

"You couldn't stop him from getting you both zapped on that neon sign bfore. What if that had been some innocent instead? I can't rely on your good will when you're trying your best to kill me."

Though the memory brought an incandescent rage to the woman's face, she remained silent. But Touma wasn't done.

"I don't want to fight you at all, but apparently you're here with Miss Baker and up to no good. I can't allow that any more than I can allow you to hurt people. If either of you think you can justify blowing up street-fronts like this for any reason at all..." He raised his right fist in defiance. "...Then I'll destroy that screwed up illusion of yours!"

For a moment the battlefield was silent. "...You arrogant man." Until now the woman's expression had been angry, furious even. But now it took on an emptiness that froze the blood in Touma's heart. "This is precisely why I hate men like you. You act like like you have all the answers, like only you understand the proper way to do things. This is precisely why everything I have done is so necessary."

Without any warning the monster attacked again, lunging forward with two lightning-quick vines, one from below and the other above. But this time, in the split secons he had to observe anything, Touma could tell both brother and sister were in sync with blood-lust. His surprise, together with their unison, made his response just slightly too slow.

He raised Imagine Breaker higher into the path of the upper strike, but the other blow sped closer and closer.

Moments before their attacks clashed there was a burst of light.

Neither vine hit their target. For a moment Touma was lost, but as stumbled backwards he recognized his salvation and the unique change to the air her power always brought.

"Finally! You made it real tough to find you!"

"Oi, hey Misaka. Ah... Why are you carrying a bunch of junk with you?" The boy waved weakly, infuriating the esper further.

"What's with that luke-warm welcome!?" Their conversation was disrupted by a fanning spread of Faerie Fire. Touma merely dodged the lethargic projectiles, dispelling what came to close.

To Mikoto's annoyance, lightning lances didn't have much effect on the wispy attack. She was forced to jump and duck instead, giving her captive the chance to struggle and split her focus.

Moving clear of the fray the girl redoubled her efforts to quell his escape attempt. "Khh... Stop that, you weirdo!" _But this field is more difficult to maintain than I thought..._ Even as she bitterly recognized the limit Daedalus imposed, the esper watched in disbelief at the ferocity of their opponent's attack.

Just as before, the woman fought seemingly without effort, all trace of her earlier manic demeanour vanished. "How interesting. Not only have you left a gap in your little trap, boy, but the ally you let in wants to fight. Are you going to tell her to stay back, like you did to that nun? It seems she's having trouble keeping up as it is!" Agnes smiled cruelly, and though her words bit into Mikoto their intended target only smiled.

"Of course not." The witch's barrage stopped, and all eyes turned to him. Everyone seemed surprised by his response, not least Mikoto. "I knew Misaka'd get here: in fact, I wanted her to. Why do you think I left Index behind?"

The esper's mouth gaped for a moment. _He thought that far ahead?_ So... It snapped shut when she realized what that implied about her own battle.

Touma remained oblivious, grateful for the chance to talk rather than dodge for his life. "I'm not the kind of guy who has to take all the glory. I know when I need help, and fighting here, I can't think of any way to stop you alone."

"I see. So you're the caitiff sort, who relies on others? Here I thought you were at least worth hating. Now I see you're someone to pity. And of course, even if your ally can keep up, you've hardly evened our battle."

Mid-sentence her attack renewed, but it focused on Touma. Frustrated that she was forced to evade the odd fire that floated her way, Mikoto darted to the bubble's edge with Index. _I'm not useful at all! I don't care if it's magic, I can't just sit here and let this keep happening!_

"Oohh, my dear, if you would be so kind as to let me go, I'm certain you'd be-"

"Shut up! Don't remind you exist, or you'll regret it!" The metallic man served as a convenient target for her anger, but he seemed pleased at being a distraction. After crushing him further Mikoto forced herself calm, eyeing the Faerie Fire that drifted closer and closer.

Inspiration struck, and an evil smile spread across her face.

"...Actually, it's too late for that. It's not easy to focus on much else while maintaining this strong a field, but..."

"Hmmm? Oohh, my dear, where are you-"

"I can still DO THIS!" She swept her captive into the nearest bunch of magical fire. They passed straight through her field to belch flames on his gears and levers.

"Oooohhh! H-HOT!" After several more collisions the mechanical man's body glowed a bright orange, as he was used to batter the esper's way back into the fight.

The witch eased her assault on the exhausted boy, forced to spend attention on the approaching girl. Soon she realized the threat a hundred kilograms of super heated brass presented, and the plant monster screeched in pain as the projectile slammed into its core again and again.

"Ooof! Sorry, my apologies-! Ouch, oohh my my-! OOHH, MOST PAINFUL!" With each bounce the man's protestation rose in pitch, seams bursting steam. And under the cover of his bellowing Agnes missed Touma's counter. His right hand reached out and dispelled a large chunk of the plant's body.

The witch lurched back under the assault, fury writ large across her expression. "You stupid pile of scrap! Curse you all!"

Her ghostly form disappeared in a sudden frenzy of motion, and several dozen vines vomited from the creature, burrowing into the ground. Seconds later they burst up around Mikoto's feet.

"Aaah, w-what!?" She pumped power through her legs, and was rewarded by squeals of monstrous pain and the smell of burning plant. But the attack continued, vines writhing, squeezing, and biting into her trousers despite the electricity.

"Hold on!" Touma sprinted to cross the gap, Imagine Breaker stretched out to disrupt the grapple.

So he was surprised when Mikoto's eye's widened. "W-wait, don't-!"

 _Aaah! Right, the brass guy!_ Scrambling to stop himself, he failed to notice until the last second one final vine in front of his foot. It caught his ankle and he fell regardless, stumbling into the girl with hand outstretched.

Imagine Breaker rang out, cancelling out both Mikoto's electrical defence and Agnes' vines. But as it did so, Mikoto's captive crowed in delight.

"Ooohohoho!" By the time the two disentangled from each other he finally broke free of his bonds. With surprising speed for his weight Daedalus bolted through the bubble, whipping over the head of an astonished Index to escape Mikoto's range.

"G-get back here! We're not done!" Finally on her feet, Mikoto saw with horror their other opponent had reached the barrier, brushing the nun aside.

"Until next time." With that the witch fled, forcing the plant monster away from the desolated bubble.

"U-uh oh... Did she...?" Finally regaining his feet Touma stood to see Mikoto already in pursuit, grasping Index by the sleeve. The esper turned at the transition to the next bubble, shouting impatiently over her shoulder.

"What are you whining about!? Let's just go after them! Come on!" She didn't wait for his reply before she left, dragging a shell-shocking Index behind her.

"Right, right, coming." The boy exhaled before jogging along in pursuit. _I should just be glad she didn't notice where my hand landed._ He soon caught up, despite already being winded. "S-so, did you see where they went?"

She shook her head. "No!"

"U-uhm, we should go left here!"

Without thought they followed Index's instruction.

Touma felt compelled to continue his line of questioning. "So where are we running?"

"I'm not sure!"

"Right this time, over there!"

It occurred to Touma that something was amiss.

"Index, are you leading us? Where are-"

"Back to the bank, right? Where the Archbishop is?" Though already somewhat out of breath, the nun explained as best she could. "I still don't understand their magic, but constant contact with Imagine Breaker is destabilizing their bodies, so I thought they might be regrouping."

"Really? I was worried my hand wasn't doing anything. I hit the main body of the plant monster a lot, but it always regrew. I hate magic that just comes back forever."

"Say, how does that even work? The energy for that has to come from somewhere!"

"This isn't the time, Misaka."

"I-I bet you don't even know the answer, Idiot!"

"W-while that may or may not be true, it's still not the time." The boy gestured, and Mikoto followed his intent.

"L-l-left... Hah..." Index's red face bobbed up and down, puffing heavily as she wavered. Her hand tugged weakly on his sleeve as she began to fall behind. "T-Touma, can you... Carry me again?

"It might be better if you got some exercise instead, Index."

"To... TOU... MA! RARGH!"

"YOU'RE STILL FIT ENOUGH TO BITE ME!?"

"Hey! I think we're back!" _But..._ Mikoto skidded to a stop just inside the bubble, and Touma staggered up behind her.

"Think? That doesn't sound..." He finally dislodged Index's teeth from his shoulder, and both gaped in shock. "W-whoa..."

"What happened here!?" The esper had thought the damage from Touma's battle bad, but the once stoic bank lay in utter ruin. What had been four storeys of impressive Edwardian architecture was now barely worth considering a building. Instead of smoke and fire, though, it was a patchwork of cracked brick and gaping holes, as if a huge mouth had taken bites out of the stone itself. The only part still recognizable was the doorframe, its vaulted arch still painted with the sigil that tied it to The Craftsman District.

The Archbishop stood triumphant on a small patch of the second floor that had miraculously survived, hair aglow with heavenly light. Without warning a golden ball materialized next to a small squad of animated toys and they vanished in its sudden expansion. When it retracted they were gone, as was a chunk of the ground around them.

"Didn't you come here for a reason? Come out already!" The Archbishop taunted from up high, casually flicking a strand of hair from her eyes. As she did her gaze fell upon the newcomers, and she waved with a lightness belying her situation. "Ah, hello! I was wondering when you three would arrive. You all can stand back, there's no need to get involved."

"W-where did they go? We chased the others here..." The Archbishop sighed at the boy's worry, resting a palm on her chin.

"Oh, you mean those three constructs she brought with her? I almost got them as they entered the bubble but that damned elusive woman pulled them away into one of her pocket realms. Now she's keeping hidden with some annoying exclusionary spells, letting her blend into the walls and continually toss out her toys." Without even glancing their guide loosed several more attacks, indiscriminately levelling another chunk of the bank. "So I've been destroying every last bit of wall I can find along with her toys. Simpler this way." [3]

For a moment, Mikoto was stunned by the sheer scale of damage the Archbishop was prepared to wreak, but the woman's wording caught her off guard. _Constructs? Is... Is that what those people are? What does that even mean?_ Before the esper could ask the battle continued: more toys marched into sight and vanished without a trace.

"Regardless, you're as good as they told me to expect, Kamijou-kun." Her sudden praise drove a flush to his face, but lost in battle the beautiful woman paid no heed. "I was afraid you wouldn't think to cut off parts of The Craftsman District after my warning, but you managed to drive them back to me."

"...Ah... Y-yeah, right!" _I had forgotten that was the plan. But something still seems..._ He opened his mouth but was cut off.

"Oh, and don't worry about the bank's employees. I held back long enough for the staff to evacuate. I chose to fight here in the first place because their magical defences should have mitigated the damage. I just didn't expect our fight to last so long." She wasted a second to survey her work before pouting. "This is such a pain. The Knight Leader never stops complaining when my magician's go off the handle and destroy public property: now that I've done it I'm sure he'll be insufferable! I'm crying just THINKING about our next meeting!"

"F-for being so upset you're sure destroying a lot more!" Touma jumped back from the debris, as their guide's latest hailstorm of glowing orbs collapsed another wall.

"I've got to cheer up somehow, right!?"

Despite her moment of mania the Archbishop was alert. Her eyes caught a shadowy form darting out speedily from cover, but with a quick gesture she rung the shape round with hundreds of encircling spheres. There wasn't a contortionist alive who could have stretched and twisted out from within the sun-like prison.

"Haha! You disappoint me! I was just starting to enjoy this little game." Though the attack was at first too bright for Touma to see through, the Archbishop seemed immensely pleased. "I don't know how you did it, but you've made yourself nearly undetectable to my magic even in plain sight. I'll have to find out how in your interrogation: after we've discussed more important concerns."

For in the attack's centre, robbed of her illusory background to hide in, appeared Miss Baker. A thin sheen of sweat seemed to glow upon her brow, but she remained otherwise impassive. Her head was bowed and her face was hidden, as if she was struggling to control her breath.

"Now now, Catherine. You seem a little grumpy." The Archbishop put on a mocking frown, suddenly bursting into laughter. "Then again, I understand: you may be thinking to yourself now, 'These several hundred attacks seem a tad excessive for just one person,'!" Just as quickly her amusement turned sinister. "And you know what? You'd be right. I'm not the kind of magician to fight by half-measures. Which I why I chose to hunt you myself. I don't appreciate people coming to my country and promoting civil disorder."

Miss Baker stayed silent, not even raising her head to meet her enemy's piercing gaze.

"Nothing to say? Too bad." Instantly the glowing orbs expanded, blinding all with their overwhelming light. "I usually enjoy last words." They retracted as before. But the Archbishop's confident grin was slowly replaced by a pensive frown.

For as the lingering spots disappeared from his blinking eyes, Touma saw that in the centre of a huge crater floated Catherine Baker, completely untouched.

Mikoto gasped along with him, amazed at what the woman had survived. _I don't know how, but my electromagnetic pulses show there's nothing there at all! But I can SEE metal clasps on her, so how...?_

"Hmmm. I wouldn't be fooled by a magically projected image, so I assume you've become intangible now? I'm surprised my standard attacks aren't effective, but it hardly matters." The Archbishop let the frown melt away, stretching languorously over the pockmarked landscape. "It's hard to win If all you do is avoid trouble. You're not going to accomplish your-" At the height of her casual stretch she froze. "-!"

At that same moment, Touma leaned his head down. Something puzzled him about the woman's body language, at her apparent indifference to the danger she was in. When he had bent low enough to finally see her face, he had only a moment to notice her thin smile before it vanished.

Along with the rest of the woman. Without further fanfare, the magician was gone. Not moving, not fading, not even twisting in a display of magical acumen. She simply was no longer there.

"A-ah? Aah!?" Touma's head whipped around, but his first impression was right. He saw no fleeing quarry. "What did she do!? Where did-!?"

"That wasn't magic!" Index and Mikoto shouted as one, surprising the boy enough that he staggered away.

The esper carried on, though a little confused that the other girl had joined in. "She was never there in the first place! Look!" Her finger pointed out the small metal box her powers had discovered. It lay on a small pile of brick, several meters distant from the edge of the newly made crater. Though dim compared to the rest of the light-show on display, it too glowed, though only from one side and through a lens. Abruptly it powered off, its internal battery drained.

It took Touma a second to identify the object as Mikoto had, though he immediately ran to kneel by it. "It's a 3D projector? So, that was just a recording!?" The depth of the trick sunk in. "How crazy prepared is she!?"

"...I see. So she waited until our little tour was nearly complete to strike." In a most unladylike fashion the Archbishop spit, kicking at a crumbled brick to crumble it further. "I knew there was a reason I hated stage magic."

Without glancing back at her allies their guide leaped from her perch, sprinting to the bank's untouched arched door-frame. She laid a hand on it and closed her eyes, ignoring the other as they drew near.

"U-uhm... What exactly-" Again, Touma was cut short.

"We've been had. I'm taking us out of The Craftsman District." Her curt response preceded the rapid draining of colour and detail from the blighted bank's bubble. Just as before, their temporary reality shrunk away, replaced with an endless expanse of drab gray.

Though the sight still unnerved the boy, Touma was glad for the change. _At least we're going back into the real world. I was getting real depressed looking at all the destruction our..._

As colour seeped back into the world it came with the sound of distant, blaring sirens. They cut his thoughts short, but he only understood the depth of his mistake when the transition completed. Though the Archbishop immediately reached into her coat to murmur into a small communications spiritual item, Touma had eyes only for the scenery.

"A-a-all that damage, it actually **happened**!?" _I thought it wasn't real! None of that was real, right!?_

As if to prove him a liar the bank lay just as ruined as they left it moments ago, only now it was comfortably sandwiched between two untouched office high-rises, contrasted by the setting sun. Their group stood in a unfamiliar business district of London, but surprisingly the streets were clear of people and vehicles. Only the flashing blue lights of London's finest barricading both entrances to the street hinted at the disorder.

The Archbishop seemed startled as she pocketed her communication's spell. "What? Yes, of course it is. I told you before, it's not as if we were disconnected from reality. When we entered The Craftsman District our phase simply shifted very slightly in reference those not inside. We couldn't see other people outside the spell, and they couldn't see us. But we still occupied the same physical space."

Mikoto absorbed this revelation with shock. "B-but all those shopkeepers-"

"They were inside the spell as well. I told them in advance to prepare for our arrival: stores within The Craftsman District have staff to manage magical business inside the spell, while others handle ordinary customers. That's why, when I stopped by each of those shops, I warned them to close early for the day, so that the damage from the battle wouldn't impact non-magicians. No good giving people more mysteries to gossip about."

This time it was Touma who interjected. "If you warned people... That means you expected a fight!?"

"Expected? No, of course not."

"T-that's a rel-"

"I planned one."

"T-that's so very much worse!"

The Archbishop ignored his angst to stride confidently across the street, forcing the others to follow. "I also took the liberty of advising the Knight Leader that something like this could happen today. He wasn't pleased, especially given his desire to stop that criminal gang on the loose. But, with their usual efficiency they've arranged to have police forces cordon off the affected zones: though the media have attempted to break through they won't arrive in time."

Though she them without explanation into an abandoned office's lobby, Touma was not about to let his confusion derail his confusion. "But how can you explain this destruction!? People must be asking questions!"

Without pause she answered, unerringly leading them through a closed door to a descending stairwell. "Extremely localized earthquakes, rupturing several outdated gas lines. The state will of course step in to repair the damage to city infrastructure, acknowledging only how lucky it was the buildings were unoccupied." They emerged into a bustling subway station, full of oblivious Londonites. "The shopkeepers of London are prepared for this sort of thing: they have contingency plans to make the damage appear more realistic. Just like I have planned out this escape route."

And as they returned to street level, they were greeted by a familiar horse and carriage. But its driver wore an alien expression, her once sardonic ill-humour replaced by visible anxiety.

The tour guide girl from before almost leaped out the bench when she noticed the arrival of her passengers. "A-ah! H-hey, uh, boss? I got your signal, b-but no one is communicating back from-"

"Then take us there. Quickly." The woman's sharp tone stiffened her underling's spine.

"Y-yes, Archbishop!" The doors snapped open, and Touma was forced to rush inside as they nipped shut on his ankles.

"Aagh! H-hold on, can we slow down a second? What went wrong!?"

Now that she was seated, the Archbishop looked him the eye again. All trace of her playfulness was gone, but she did not appear unduly worried. "Everything went as I expected. I knew that our enemy's attack into The Craftsman District would be a feint. Their true goal was elsewhere."

"O-oh..." Though he still didn't fully understand, Touma was reassured by their guides calm demeanor. Until, at least, she continued.

"...But I may have failed to acknowledge the full scope of their capability. That may prove costly in the short term."

"Uhm, excuse me, but..." Mikoto's gaze returned from the window, where London's streets rumbled quickly past. "Where are we going now? This thing is moving awfully fast."

"Back to St. George's. I need to see the extent of the damage to properly adjust our next steps."

One word in particular sunk a heavy weight in Touma's stomach. "Damage!? It's not going to be like the bank, is it!? But wait, maybe you already told everyone there to-"

"No." His last hope froze with his tongue. "I ordered no one to evacuate St. George's. Why would I? It's a stronghold of magical might, and nothing short of another World War or a Magic God is likely to destroy it completely, or make it so no one inside was able to at least send out a warning. Ordering an evacuation would be like leaving a bunker in a nuclear strike to take shelter in a card-board box."

"...So then why haven't you or that other girl heard from anyone inside yet?" Mikoto's obvious question hung in the air for a moment, but if it bothered the Archbishop her casual shrug masked any concern.

"I'm not certain. I only discovered the situation when one of Necessarius' hourly security check-ins went unanswered. Regardless, it's around the next corner. We'll soon find out."

With baited breath, Touma, Index and Mikoto waited, eyes glued to the window.

The last obstruction passed, and on the horizon...

"Aaaaahhh... What a relief! It's still standing!" In monolithic defiance of their worries, St. George Cathedral stood unscathed. Not a single sign of battle, no smoke or scar, blemished it's proud face. Touma collapsed back in his seat, tension draining. "So, if no one's answering... M-maybe they're just playing a joke?"

His own attempt at humour didn't phase the Archbishop. "If that's the case, I'll have to show them all how much I'm laughing." The carriage skidded to a halt and she jumped down before it stopped, striding purposefully through the main gate. "For now, assume the worst, and that the enemy has somehow penetrated our defences."

"The worst? What could be..." The boy paled, and he followed the others inside with acute trepidation.

!~~~~~~~~!

Though famed for his illusion shattering hand, one thing it could not stifle was his own active imagination. Touma reflected on this sad state of affairs as he crept slowly along yet another empty hallway.

Upon first entering the Cathedral the group encountered only silence. Agreeing by a three-to-one vote to split up and search for clues, each went a separate way to scour the apparently vacant cathedral.

 _And now I'm really wishing for some courage-giving snacks. Or maybe just a big cowardly dog or something who'd give me more warning when its time to run away._ [4] Lacking either of these things Touma swallowed again, steeling himself to take yet another blind turn.

Then he heard a noise.

Gluing himself against the wall, he held his breath as the footsteps he noticed stopped as well.

For a long moment the standoff held, until a girl's exasperated sigh pierced the silence.

"I can tell that's you, Idiot. Come out, it's just me."

He recognized the voice and stepped away from his cover. Turning the corner he saw Mikoto, eyes glancing about the otherwise lifeless hall. "O-oh, Misaka." _I'm not usually this glad to see her around a blind corner. I guess context is everything... That must be it._

"What's that you're mumbling about?"

 _I said that out-loud!?_ "N-nevermind! But, say, how'd you know it was-"

"T-that's nothing special!" As if impatient she turned fully away from him, dramatically peeking through a nearby room's open door. "I heard a noise, but when I sent out a pulse it never bounced back from your direction, so that had to be you. It's always you... A-anyway, you didn't find anyone either?"

"No, no one-"

"Well, let's regroup back in the dinning room, then! I bet Index and the Archbishop are there, waiting for us. Maybe they found something."

He caught up to her departing back to match her pace, and they retread his own steps through the Cathedral. Empty of people it was like a well-maintained museum on a quiet day: no dust had yet accumulated, no spiderwebs been woven. But still it gave the young boy the impression of a crypt.

"...This place was so lively, though. What happened here?" Touma was surprised when Mikoto answered, unaware he had voiced his thoughts aloud.

"I don't know. It's like everyone just... Went home, or something." They stepped into the church's dinning hall, where they were greeting by the Archbishop's shaking head.

"That's not the case." She stood by Index, who was lounging, exhaustion, along one of the room's many benches. "Most employees live on the grounds, and I've contacted the apartments of those who don't. No one who spent today at the Cathedral has been seen anywhere else in the city. I'm getting in touch with those on vacation or out on various assignments, so we'll have a skeleton crew of magicians here soon, but for now it is just us four."

The enormity of the loss sunk in.

 _St. George's Cathedral doesn't only house hundreds of local magician's, but it was also hosting everyone from the past incidents I was involved in: but then..._ "...What happened to everyone!?"

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] Agnes here is in fact this person's name, but the "Witch" part is a bit of fabrication. If you're curious, I'll go into more detail next chapter, but this is now enough info to find out who she and her brother are. I'll give you a hint: they're twins, despite the age gap. I wonder how that is...?

[2] I regret to say that The Last Airbender isn't even a series I'm that familiar with, but I can never resist the chance to make a reference. It's a weakness, I admit.

[3] If you're not aware, I'm making up parts of the Archbishop's magic. All we know in canon is that it's hair based, involves glowing golden light, and the ability to determine what objects and structures she wants to target. So she COULD have prevented all damage to the bank: she just chose not to. It's not really relevant to the story so I don't explain how she can get bits of her hair (Which I imagine are always needed for her magic to work) into the centre of each glowing orb in this attack, but I'm certain if pressed I could make up a way. Something to do with Samson and Delilah, maybe, or imagery of the burning bush and angelic light? Either seem appropriate for a variety of reasons, given the Archbishop's character.

[4] Ruh-roh, indeed.


	42. Part 2: Chapter 12

**Welcome back: NT 15 is fully translated, and I just finished reading it. All I can say is that I did not expect Mikoto's character development to go quite that way. But if nothing else, it hints at her relevance (or rather, her absolute determination to be relevant despite in universe not really having any reason to be relevant anymore) to the overall plot of Toaru, which I greatly anticipate. If NT 16 doesn't prominently feature more of her, I'll be both surprised and disappointed.**

 **For this chapter, expect a bit of explaining. It will end about halfway through, and get to more... Interesting developments, at least to some. Just so you all know, though the general structure may change from time to time, you can expect some action bits alternating between romance bits, with comedy sprinkled liberally all over the place. That's going to be the formula. I still feel that there's no way to really tell a story in this universe without some larger conflict going on in the background. Savvy readers may have already noticed how I've hinted at future developments, and rest assured, nearly everything plays into the original theme eventually. But basically, expect a fairly big story. Besides, are the Light Novel's ever straight and to the point until the end?**

 **Oh, and one last thing: I meant to mention it last time, but for those wondering the "Agnes" woman is not "Agnese", just so you know for sure now. The names just happen to be similar, and the first one is historically accurate so I wanted to keep it. You know, respect the dead and all that. I explain more in this chapter.**

 **But enough prevaricating: I hope you can enjoy this latest update. Thanks for sticking around, and if you can, stomach my long-winded exposition until at least halfway through this chapter: I think more will enjoy the second part than the first.**

 **Chapter 12**

19:34 P.M., December 27th: London: St George's Cathedral

As he waited, head held in hands, Touma heard only three different sounds.

The first was intimately familiar: in the chair to his left Index snored lightly, cheek pressed to the table at which they sat waiting. Upon hearing supper would be delayed she had nearly staged a coup d'etat to forcibly re-allocate Necessarius resources for a snack run to the nearest corner store. But her energy had run out too quickly and, to everyone's relief, she had entered something of a hibernation state.

The second sound was the ticking of an ancient ornate clock sitting on a small side table. He had spent his time watching its hands creep by: it had been almost half an hour since their search of the Cathedral was abandoned, and nearly as long since there were seated in this weathered board room to wait for news. Though occasionally a member of Necessarius, called off some other duty, rushed by the hall outside with harried expressions, none had peered inside.

The third and final sound was the steady drumming of fingernails on the room's ashen table. He could feel the vibrations through his elbows, and was mildly amused when the tempo changed cadence or the pattern missed a beat. They came from Mikoto, who sat to his immediate right: together with Index's snoring and the clock's ticking, her taps formed a litany to impatience.

Abruptly they ended, and a loud bang startled both him and Index alert.

"That's it!" Mikoto had launched from her chair to pound the table with both fists. "I've had it with waiting!"

"Whazzat...? Touma...?" Struggling for consciousness, Index gazed blearily about. "Is it... time for dinner...?"

"No, Index, not y-"

Her head hit the table again, and the snoring resumed.

They stared at the nun for only a moment.

"Sorry, Misaka, you were sa-"

"I was SAYING we can't just wait here any longer! We've got to get out there and do something productive! Zap some people, and find our friends!"

Her passion almost made him smile, as did her unconscious choice of words. But the deeper problem that had been weighing on his mind was inescapable. "I want to, but..." He looked ahead again, rubbing at his chin. "Where do we start?" _Usually by now somebody has pointed me in the vague direction of an enemy, or at least explained what the problem is. This time everything feels so mysterious._ "Besides, the Archbishop said she was waiting for someone with real important news to come back."

"...I know." _I just really hate feeling impotent... Not that I'll ever admit it._ "But I still don't know how she can sleep at a time like this!" Though she knew it unfair to divert her annoyance to sleeping nun, her angelic repose infuriated the esper.

Touma merely sighed, somehow immune to the effect as he mused. "I'm sure she's just as worried as we are, Misaka, but Index just doesn't have the stamina to keep going. It's been a while since she's been this active." [1] _Plus she's eaten enough junk food to last a lifetime. That can't help anything, including my bottom-line._

"...Y-yeah, I _suppose_..." The esper belatedly remembered her promise to watch out for the nun, and felt suddenly guilty. "...That I can cut her some slack. But that doesn't mean WE shouldn't go do something! Maybe we could go out and track down whoever it is we're sitting here waiting for."

That idea held enough merit to appeal to the boy, but before he could answer, the bustle in the hall outside paused.

"That won't be necessary, though I applaud the intent."

Their heads snapped to the doorway just in time to witness the Archbishop's return. With her was a small entourage, and she strode to the table's head as the rest filed in behind her.

The first to enter was flustered young witch delicately balancing a huge platter, generously piled with scones and a large kettle of tea.

"Sorry for the delay! Where should I put...?" The tray had tilted dangerously in her hands. It took the witch a moment to realize that Index hung off one side, growling like a wild animal. "...W-w-w-waaaaggghh!?"

The two spun in whirlwind of baked goods. One bounced off Touma's head, but as he turned to complain he saw only the looming shadow of the boiling teapot falling from on high.

He only had time to shield himself with his arms, but the scalding wave of Earl Grey never came. When he recovered the nerve to look, he saw the pot hanging in the air. From across the room Mikoto held back a laugh, one hand and her powers extended.

"You really are a trouble magnet." Though grinning from ear to ear, she blushed when he returned the favour. Still dangling the kettle her focus slipped, and Mikoto noticed a thin stream start to pour. Though she righted it quickly, the damage was done as it poured directly onto a unfortunate boy's lap. "...A-ah!"

His reaction was more pronounced.

"G-G-GAAAAHHHH!?" He rocketed from his seat, desperately dabbing at his tender parts. The nearest reprieve was a long length of black cloth, and Touma hobbled towards it, desperately drying himself on it with both hands. It wasn't much help, but slowly the pain diminished.

"...My robe is not a dish-towel." The magician known as Stiyl, second to enter the room, stared down at his occasional colleague with a look of utter disgust. Touma paid him no heed as he continued rubbing away the pain.

"Ow-ow-ow-ow... O-oh?" Now that the immediate trauma had passed Touma regained his senses. "Ah, hey there, Stiyl. Please excuse me."

"That calmly!?" The normally stoic boy's calm cracked, but it quickly returned. "...Never mind. And let go of my coat already, or I'll give you a real burn to worry about." He ripped his robe from the boy's grasp and strode to the wall. There he leaned, eyes carefully locked forward.

"Nice to see you, too." But the unfortunate boy's attention was refocused on his gently steaming crotch, and he glared daggers at the frozen-stiff culprit. She was trying to nonchalantly return the tea kettle, now that Index had been placated, but was caught red-handed. "...You're such a troublesome magnet."

"I, that- I-It was an accident!" But as Mikoto tried desperately to not think about what she just came close to ruining, the third and final newcomers sauntered in.

"Did just hear that Kami-yan had an accident?" A broad smile cracked Tsuchimikado's face wide open, and he jeered at his friend. "I'm looking forward to spreading stories about your incontinence to pretty girls all over school!"

"Damn you, Tsuchimikado, you know that's not what happened!"

"I don't know, that stain looks pretty bad...!"

"I've got plenty more bad rumours about you that I haven't shared! We can make this a war if you want!"

"Thank you all for your patience." Though the Archbishop's tone was soft and words polite, somehow they conveyed immediate silence. All except Stiyl took a seat, and the meeting commenced.

"S-so..." Touma was first to break the solemn mood. "What exactly is going on then?"

"The magician known as Catherine Baker is attempting to fulfill the conditions for the apocalyptic prophecy-spell known as 'Diebus Nativitatis in Duodecim'."

"A-ah, that _sounds_ as bad as I was expecting." Touma nodded slowly, thrown off by the Archbishop's unexpectedly quick answer. _I don't get it, but at least we're getting somewhere._ "So, how do we stop it? Can I just punch something, or-"

"Excuse me, hold on." Mikoto piped up, bemused. "...What? What is it called? I know my Latin, but Nativitatis... That can't seriously mean what I'm guessing it does."

"Academy City certainly has an interesting curriculum, if they teach classical languages." Though she teased, their host smiled broadly. "You've likely gotten close enough: 'Diebus Nativitatis in Duodecim' is just the name it was given by the cult that developed it, but roughly translated it stands for..."

A hushed expectation fell over the assembly.

"...The Twelve Day of Christmas."

Mikoto abruptly burst into laughter. "R-r-really?" She finally managed to control her hilarity. "I was actually... But that's asinine! Who's going to take a doomsday spell like that seriously? Mall-Santa's?" She looked around for support, but Touma only waved a chiding finger.

"Now now, Misaka, you don't get how magic works. Is this really any stranger than Amazo's spells? I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation that I wouldn't have any hope of actually understanding. Right? Index?"

"Uhm..." Having awoken from her food-deprived hunger, the nun thought hard for a moment. "I've never heard of that spell. It's on none of the 103000 grimoires I have, on Necessarius' records."

"A-ah." His usual options exhausted, the boy simply stared at his ward. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"I'll spare you a long history lesson, Kami-yan, because I know you're terrible at those!" Touma frowned, spinning towards his jeering classmate. "That side of things is what I was looking into. All you need to know is, a cult in the early 19th century somehow came up with this prediction. But part of their cozy little coven got mad about something or other, and they all blew each other up." Tsuchimikado waved his arms in a rough impression of a fireball. "Anyway, when Necessarius investigated back in the day, we uncovered the spell's existence but determined triggering it was impossible. It wasn't even part of a grimoire, so we just filed it away and forgot about it as another example of failed magic."

"But wait, if it's impossible, what's happening now? I'm still really confused..."

"What changed between now and then isn't exactly clear, ya know? But what matters is we've got this." From nowhere in particular the spy pulled several sheaves of paper, which he deftly slid across the table. As they others scrambled to stop them from flying apart he continued. "It's an incomplete version of the prophecy, probably because the cultist that penned the damned thing gave up or got killed halfway through, but here's what we got."

Touma stared at the rows of English text in front him, sweating in embarrassment, but was saved when Mikoto quickly finished. "All-right, hold on again! This is just the lyrics of the song. Not exactly like I remember it, but still..."

"A-ah... What song, Misaka?"

"You know, 'The Twelve Days of Christmas'?" Mikoto closed her eyes. _"On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave t-to..."_ Faltering she remembered herself, and discovered Touma staring at her in wonder. He received a face full of paper for his trouble, hurled as she hid her face. "I'm not going to sing it for you, Idiot!"

"I didn't ask you to-! C-can someone just tell me what the lyrics are, please? Without violence?"

From behind Touma's shoulder Stiyl sighed, pulling a cigarette from his pocket which he lit in a smooth motion. "The exact lyrics only matter for the one who invokes the spell. But the gifts mentioned in verse are important."

The boy began to recall the song, Mikoto's few sung words jogging his memory. "Gifts... Right, I remember something about a bird..."

"A partridge, in a pear tree. As strange as it sounds, our code-breakers have determined this refers to the story of Daedalus, the ancient Greek inventor."

"Ah, yeah!" Mikoto snapped her fingers. "That mechanical guy kept claiming to be Daedalus. But that can't be... If the guy every really existed, he's been dead for a thousand years? Magic can't make you immortal, right?" She looked around, suddenly intensely curious, but the Archbishop shook her head firmly.

"Short of becoming a Magic-God, no. At least not without side-effects. Like selling your soul and embracing demonic characteristics, or destroying your very sense of self and effectively dying either way."

Mikoto fell back in her seat, supremely chastised.

"...As I was saying." Stiyl took a long drag on his cigarette, letting the smoke curl up to the ceiling. "Daedalus was real. But-" He nearly choked when Index suddenly stretched up, oblivious to the tension she instilled in the tall boy.

"Oh! Ooh, I know this one! Few trustworthy records of his life survive, but supposedly Daedalus was the first western Magician to create artificial artifacts! Before him, any magical items required direct sacrifices of some kind to form, but he discovered the modern methods of symbolic substitution used to this day! But the grimoires disagree on the rest."

"...That was unusually short for your explanations, Index." Touma's observation earned his shoulder a salvo of punches.

"There's not a lot to say!"

He managed to ignore her weak assault. "S-so, why is this guy important?" He stared back at Stiyl, who refused to watch the one-sided fight. But eventually the redhead answered.

"...Greek myth has it that the first partridge was actually Daedalus's nephew, Perdix. He was thrown by his uncle off the sacred hill of Athena. But rather than just let the boy die, the goddess Athena transformed him into the bird, which forever remained flightless and afraid of heights. The first component of 'The Twelve Days of Christmas' spell is based on this story, regardless of its truth. Daedalus's ability seems related to his skill with artifacts, but only those of brass. Why this restriction exists is likely a limitation of the spell.

"The second day, for those who don't remember..." Touma felt Stiyl's pointed gaze before the tall boy continued. "...Mentions two turtle doves. After evidence taken from today's battle, we went back to our records and discovered this line refers to the Green Children of Woolpit."

"I'm not familiar with that reference." Mikoto volunteered uselessly before blushing. _Damn it! Why did I feel the need to blurt that out!?_

"I hardly blame you," The Archbishop acknowledged, "being of the science side as you are. But to England's magical history, the sister is extremely important."

"A-ah, Agnes, right?"

"Yes, Kamijou-kun. But I'll start from the beginning."

"Before her name?"

"Yes." The Archbishop ignored her notes, reciting from memory. "In the 12th century, a resident of the sleepy English hamlet of Woolpit discovered two children, twins wandering lost in a nearby wood. While already unusual enough, their skins were bright green, and when they spoke in tongues. Though hesitant and fearing dark magic, the townspeople took them in. The girl eventually learned English and named herself Agnes. The boy died young.

"But Agnes survived, marrying a local nobleman despite her green skin. Though many wondered how this was possible, it later turned out she was a practising witch. From a position of power she organized the largest coven in British history, and blighted the land from the shadows. Her powers ranged from the usual suite of witch-craft, potions and like, to including a strange affinity with plants. Despite this, she was eventually discovered by the church, but proved too powerful to counter in the open.

"It was fortunate that a number of her lesser witches rebelled, brokering a temporary alliance with the church to dethrone her. If you haven't already guessed, this was the direct origin of Necessarius, though it would only become an important group in later centuries. Regardless, Agnes's power was so widespread that the traditional image of a witch, green skinned and clad in black robes, was based on her. It's even thought that the story of Hansel and Gretel might be partially based on her and her brother as the Green Children, but that is conjecture." [2]

 _That got bad fast. I thought it was just going to be a fairy tale or something._ Touma sat back to absorb it all. "That means that boy with her, is that-"

"A simulacrum of her brother? Yes, just like she is. Apparently both are important for The Twelve Days of Christmas spell, and together serve as the two turtle doves mentioned." The Archbishop seemed confident this was enough detail, but the boy felt different.

"Does that actually explain anything? I don't think that explains anything. I mean, why have the come back to life to fight us? And how?" Touma's rubbed at his hair, but for once his friend threw him a bone.

"Well, Kami-yan, they're not 'back to life'. Not really, anyway." Tsuchimikado shrugged, leaning back and carelessly tilting his chair to its back legs. "What you fought were just impressions of these people, we think, etched onto a symbolic representation. They're just faded personalities, approximated from records and based around some sort of physical object to be sacrificed. These objects are connected to a bunch of high-profile robberies, which is what Baker has been up to for the last few days in London. You may have seen them on the news, assuming you ever watch something other than anime, Kami-yan."

"Oh! I saw, I saw!" Index's hand shot up, ignoring Touma's attempt to defend his lack of worldly knowledge. "I remember: before we arrived a notorious Irish crime lord named Finlay "The Shark" Morris broke into a museum and stole the antikythera mechanism! It was on the morning report, and there were lost of gunfire and explosions, so it was fun to watch."

"A shark stole an antique guitar?" [3] As Touma glanced around befuddled, Index continued.

"The mechanism was found in the Mediterranean Sea, and supposedly dates back to ancient Greece! And the next day, The Shark stole an art piece from the Middle Ages called the Iron Rose, a small figurine. But those weren't magical artifacts. They were just old things, so I changed the channel."

The Archbishop nodded, satisfied with Index's explanation. "The spell requires that the items be connected to the person referred to by the prophecy: we assume Daedalus or someone like him created the antikythera mechanism, and can guess the Iron Rose has some tie to Agnes. Their connection allows Baker, using the The Twelve Days of Christmas, to create life-like replicas of these ancient figures. They are hardly real at all, less than even ghosts."

Kamijou mused on that point. "Huh." _They seemed so real, though..._ "I guess I'm glad they're not ghosts. Very glad. But why would they help-"

"She is controlling them." The Archbishop's sharp words cut through Touma's question. "You've seen her mastery of puppets in Academy City, yes? Though I still don't understand the exact magic behind them, it's almost certainly the same process. Which means even if they talk and act human, they're nothing more than illusions. They dance to her whim."

"O-okay." Despite his unease, Touma decided to not press issue. "But the important thing is that this is all Miss Baker's doing, right? But why does she even need these people? They didn't seem as tough as other problems we've faced..."

At this Stiyl pushed off from his wall, stepping around the table to stand nonchalantly next to his superior. "They are more important that it seems. Part of my investigation was into the woman's ultimate motives. In particular, we suspected that after Amazo's attack at the Dianoid there was someone behind him and his assistant. It turns out we were right.

"I tracked their path back to America, where some non-magical businesswoman named Rosslyn Roosevelt was funding them. At first it just looked like she was an Academy City affiliate who had a grudge to settle, but there's more to it than that. I recovered her destroyed records, and they showed that she not only knows about the magical world, but wants to use it for her own gain.

"Revealing this information to Roosevelt was how Amazo and Baker secured the businesswoman's support to take down a mutual enemy. As you remember, this failed. But it seems Baker went behind her master's back and told their financier more, and they planned together to complete The Twelve Days of Christmas without Amazo's knowledge.

"However, Baker ran into trouble. This Roosevelt woman, despite having no magic of her own, gained some sort of leverage over Baker, compelling her to betray her mentor and complete The Twelve Days of Christmas for own her sake. By recreating the personality's of these ancient figures, they plan to fulfill the conditions for the spell by the twelfth day, or January 4th. Since Christmas Eve, they have been gathering the necessary components to complete the prophecy by then. If they succeed, it would mean the end."

!~~~~~~~~!

"So what does it do?" Though a dreary atmosphere had descended upon the conference, Mikoto eventually raised her voice. "I remember you said apocalyptic before, but that could mean anything. What does this prophecy actually predict?"

"The end of time." The Archbishop's curt response widened the esper's eyes. "Or rather, the end of its linear flow. Rather than progressing to the future, it would simply loop around a short period, eternally stalling God's plan for the world. It's called The Twelve Days of Christmas for a reason."

"...So every twelve days it'd be Christmas again?" Touma gaped in wonder. "...That's best 'End of the World' I've ever heard of! And I've been through... M-many. Anyway, I guess I can see why Miss Baker would want that, but we definitely have to stop her, yeah, no endless days off from schools, that'd be terrible..." He turned away, but no one noticed as the Archbishop continued.

"It might sound appealing, but there are dire consequences. Certain days of the year have massive significance for religion: Christmas itself is the birth of Christ, culminating in his death and renewal on Easter. But what happens to the Earth's collective magical patterns if Easter never comes? What happens to Christian symbolism itself, and Christ's assumption of our sins, if he is constantly born without ever dying?

"You may be thinking that Christ is not being born literally every year at Christmas, but symbolically he is, and nearly all magic is symbolic. Eventually the ritualistic power other days of the year hold will fade. Christmas will gain dominance above all other holy days, and it was already massively more powerful in the public mind due to modern consumerism. Like Amazo's magic in the Dianoid, spell based on specific holy days work best through latent cultural associations. They gain power from faith, or at least recognition. And nearly everyone these days recognizes Christmas. Christian or not.

"Not only would the world's natural order be thrown into complete chaos, The Twelve Days of Christmas would quickly eliminate all the magical methods to undo it. There will be no way to stop it, and it's debatable if those caught within would notice it was happen. Baker, and by extension Rosslyn Roosevelt, would be the only ones truly prepared as the shapers of the spell: they could become god-like in their new world."

Every word the Archbishop spoke drove nails of cold anxiety into Touma's heart. He sat frozen in his chair, lost in tortuous memories of world's past.

Mikoto watched him a moment, her concern rapidly approaching panic as she guessed what drove him to such uncharacteristic fear. "W-wait a minute... We might already be trapped in this loop, right? How would we know?"

"That is not a problem, Misaka-san." The Archbishop was oblivious to Touma's disquiet, smiling broadly despite her dour explanation. "We're not, and we know that because of Kamijou-kun. The spell would certainly not work on him, so he would have memories. I'm sure he would have said something if this were the case by now. Imagine Breaker is our only trump-card: even if we fail to stop the prophecy from being completed, it will allow us to try again."

"Ah... That's a relief, I suppose..." _Or it should have been._ Mikoto wanted to feel reassured, but Touma's vacant stare made that impossible. _...So why does he still seem so worried?_

 _...I am not getting stuck in another infinite Hell._ Abruptly he stood up, and locked his eyes with the Archbishop's. "I'll stop Miss Baker, and shatter her illusions if that's what she has planned."

The beautiful young woman smiled. "That's what I expected you to say."

"But there is still a problem," Stiyl interjected, "And none of this explains what happened to the Cathedral. After what you did in World War Three, you promised this place would be safe for-" He caught his own tongue after a brief moment and glanced away, ignoring his boss' smirk.

"Now now, Stiyl. It's not proper to hold such a grudge. And I kept all three of our visitors by my side today, so St. George's temporary fall is even less of a problem. Really, this is the best case scenario I could have asked for."

Touma's eyes narrowed. But without his prompting the Archbishop continued, reading the disbelief on his face.

"I am confident St. George's occupants are safe. If everyone were dead, we would have returned home to a mountain of corpses, a macabre attempt at demoralizing or enraging us into a mistake. Because they are not, they must be captured, and are somehow more useful to our enemy alive. I knew Baker would attack us directly eventually, but they tipped their hand too early. We lacked information before, but thanks to your adventure yesterday in London's Westfield mall and our battle today, we can determine the identity of her next servant, a likely several more.

"If we assume that spell began on the night of Christmas Day, then Baker should have materialized three distinct servants by now, the little boy and his sister together being the second. The third servant is the culprit, because we know the other two and their powers." The Archbishop smiled, her usual charming self, the day's disaster weighing lightly on her mind as she sipped delicately at her tea.

"You and Misaka-san may have stopped the visible crime that took place yesterday, but I received word just before this meeting that one object was missing after the final review of evidence. Something that slipped out. It was the battle standard of the Maid of Orleans, the French Saint and war-leader Joan of Arc. This must have been the object required for the third night of her spell. If Agnes of Woolpit was Necessarius' first historic enemy, Joan of Arc would be our greatest for centuries."

Mikoto interjected yet again. "If she's even worse than this Agnes lady, why is that good? And isn't Joan of Arc a saint?" _Those people are real monsters... Nearly as bad as the Number 1._ Remembering her difficult battle in Academy City with the Saint Brunhild Eiktobel was unpleasant, but the Archbishop only looked at the esper with puzzlement.

"I'm surprised you know that. But while you are right about the danger, we have a grudge to settle with her. Centuries ago, this very Cathedral housed Joan of Arc as a prisoner, for a few nights during the Hundred Year's War with France. She was magically transported so that we could study her magic, something we didn't understand. But before we succeeded, we had to let her be burned at the stake for the sake of the war effort. Now we have another chance." [4]

For a moment, the conversation lulled, but Touma took a deep breath and stood up.

"I don't really care who these people helping her are, but I'm not going to let them complete this prophecy or endanger anyone else." He stared at Stiyl, the Archbishop, and Tsuchimikado in turn. "Do you know where they are?"

Only the last answered. "Sorry, Kami-yan, that one is my bad. I found a few of the bases that Roosevelt woman set up for them, but they're hidden well. I've got no clue where they are right now, and they're magically hidden from scrying with some Protestant stagecraft magic or something. It'll take a while to figure it all out, ya know?"

"Then I'm going to look for them. That Agnes woman said she was aiming for me earlier, so if I go out-"

"That's idiotic!" Touma's path to the open door was suddenly blocked by Mikoto, so upset she'd forgotten to blush. "You can't use yourself as bait, I won't-" She abruptly remembered. "A-Anyway! There are so many reasons that's a stupid idea! It's getting late, everyone is still missing, we have nothing like a plan ready, none of the enemy looked tired at the end of our fight, and we barely drove them back as it was!" She was panting by the end of her tirade, but Touma just watched her calmly.

"I'm still going. I won't just sit here any longer."

Two resolute stares met for a moment, but one soon softened. "...That's what I expected of you. All-right, if you're so determined to be the Idiot you are, then..." Mikoto swallowed, and put on a reassuring smile despite her blush. "T-then I'm coming with you! I want a rematch anyway, that annoying old hunk of metal really-"

"There's no way I can let you do that!"

Her confidence shattered like glass before a storm. Finally words came, through the howling wind in her heart. "What? I don't-"

"I know it's stupid to go out there, and that I can't see any sort of resolution coming from waiting! But it's not like I'm asking you to come with me, so it doesn't matter if it's stupid."

The reality of his tone sunk in. "...W-what are you saying? I thought... You said that you wanted..." The esper took one step back, and then another. _I thought you finally understood._

"Wanted? What do you mean..." Touma rubbed his head in exasperation, pausing only when he realized what Mikoto referred to. _Ah... She was listening more closely than I thought back then. She must think I'm a pretty scummy guy for saying something as horrible as that..._ He lowered his head, ashamed. "...I see now."

Once again Mikoto was frozen in shock. Hope warred with embarrassment as she waited anxiously for Touma to meet her eye again.

Abruptly he did. "Regardless of what I said to Agnes, I didn't really **want** you to be there, in that fight! I could never want that: what kind of guy would? I said that then because I knew it was inevitable, not because I wanted it." He nodded to himself. _There, that should clear things up. I don't want her thinking I WANT my friends to be in danger! That'd be-_

"IDIOT!" Incandescent lightning ripped through the air, narrowly blocked by Touma's right hand. By the time his vision recovered, all that was left of the esper was the faint smell of ozone left by her attack.

As he stood there, stunned at his fortune's swift reversal, he heard Tsuchimikado bark in laughter.

"And here I thought you had the magic touch with girls, Kami-yan! With moves like that, why do they keep coming back to you?"

"I-I don't have any idea what you're talking about..." The boy's rebuttal was weak, and he simply stared at his smoking hand.

"Our meeting is almost over, Kamijou-kun, so please, sit down. I am confident Misaka-san will remain in St. George's tonight, just as you should." Again she read his mind: he hesitated just long enough that chasing Mikoto would be pointless. But instead of sitting he simply turned.

"I still think I need to-"

"There is no further harm Baker can do tonight. Her spell works according to a schedule: tonight marks the fourth night, so we are only a third of the way through the prophecy. She would not be so foolish as to attack tonight, now that she is secure. It's even more likely she will be occupied with the summoning process. and I have reason to believe she will be forced into acting tomorrow. I'll explain briefly. First, in their attack today..."

!~~~~~~~~!

"Idiot. Idiot. Idiot." But there wasn't any heart in the young girl's mantra. Mikoto paced St. George's library, up and down the isles, ignoring the cloud of dust her latent fields stirred up.

"Idiot. Says that he didn't want me, but deliberately planned for it. What's that mean, huh? What's that all about? What'm I supposed to think? He just forget what the word 'want' means!? Would be just like him! Idiot! Idiot!"

Every time she approached the room's solitary central table she reached back her leg for swing: each time she maintained enough decorum to not assault the furniture.

But it was getting harder with every pass. "Gaaahh... It's almost like he's trying to goad me into killing him! Or getting someone else to do it! Every stupid thing he does is another death sentence! And every time I go out of my way to help him, and he just runs off or leaves me stranded on a different continent!

"It's not like I HAVE to do this, keep getting humiliated and embarrassed and abandoned! If he's going to keep telling me he doesn't want me with him, maybe I should just-just up and-!"

The only way to stop her foot now was to slam it into the floor, and she grit her teeth before stomping with all her might.

"Idiot! Idiot! IDIOT!" With each word came another stamp, pounding the ancient floorboards. Though they creaked satisfyingly underfoot, that could not stop the tears welling up in her eyes.

"IDIOT! IDIOT! Idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot..."

She stood in the dimness, steadying her breath. But calm never came, and it became harder and harder to pretend that she wasn't on the verge of despair.

"...So why doesn't he see? That big, stupid, damned, kind, idiot..."

The library held no comfort. Rows upon rows of dusty tomes had neither solace nor judgment to give as they watched her facade crack.

"He's so good at saving the day, saving people, finding a solution that helps everyone find what they want. Why can't he tell... That what I want..."

Her voice was small now, as small as she felt. She couldn't keep the words, jailed so long in chest, from tumbling out.

"...What I want is to **be** there! For..." Small voice.

Despite herself, despite embarrassment, despite sadness, longing or desperation, she couldn't bite back the truth she was finally willing to admit to the world.

"...For him."

Nothing changed.

The universe did not shatter at her admission. Nothing she had feared came to pass. There was no divine retribution for her presumption, no mocking eyes at her weakness, no malicious hand of fate to take it all away.

And perhaps, just small bit, Mikoto felt better.

She sighed once, long and deeply. Smiling weakly, she gazed at the trapdoor juddering beneath her feet.

 _...So who exactly is the Idiot, then?_

The trapdoor bumped again. And then again.

Mikoto noted this with half her attention, but its persistence was unusual. It forced her back from self-mockery, and she recognized it as the trap her team had discovered during the Christmas Day scavenger hunt.

Idly she scanned it with electromagnetic waves, but did not expect to discover that someone was trapped behind it.

"Ah? ...AAH!" _Survivors!? I've got to get them out of there!_ Vaguely recalling the hunt she spun for the nearby bookcase, pouring over the spines of each book. "Right, which was... it... Ahah!" She grasped 'A Bureaucratic History of Anglican Institutions' and pulled hard, just before stepping off the trapdoor.

"FREEEEEEEEEEEEDDDOOOOMMMM!"

It sprung open with force, and with it came Lessar. She scrambled to floor level, staggering to lean dramatically on a nearby shelf.

"Sweet, sweet freeeeedooooom! I never want to see another test as long as I live!"

"P-please, Lessar-san, it wasn't... So awful as that... Though it was tiring..." Itsuwa limply flopped onto the floor by Mikoto's feet, before turning her dazed expression upwards. "A-ah... Hello, Misaka-saaan... Thank you for freeing us."

"...What on earth happened!?" Asking either of them was pointless, so Mikoto had turned to the third and final figure, who stepped daintily over Itsuwa's prone form.

"Pair of babies." Othinus spared a moment to clean her snow-white fur. "Hello, esper. Took you long enough.

!~~~~~~~~!

"...So let me get this straight."

The girls had recovered enough to be dragged to the library table. Mikoto could convince them to go no further, so there they had sat to swap stories.

"You two were taking your punishment test, but because they were worried you would skip out, they placed you in that room and locked the way out?"

"Yup." Lessar lay her body across the table top, digging into with her tail.

"...And Othinus laughed at you, so you dragged her in with you, to suffer along for the day?"

"Yes." The Magic-God was not amused, but bore her trials with all the grace of a deposed queen.

"And right when you had finished the test, before you could be let out of the room, you blacked out?"

"Yes, Misaka-san. That's most of the story." Itsuwa had been nodding along, but interjected suddenly. "But the strangest part was when we returned to our senses."

Lessar nodded. "We all woke up at the trapdoor exit, trying to claw our way back into the library. Damn near ruined my nails, and we didn't get very far through the wood either way." Despite regaining her usual bluster, the magician seemed clearly disturbed. "Though I know I REALLY wanted out of there, I don't know why I'd go that far. Besides, I knew it was impossible to escape like that. After that room was magically sealed by the invigilators, it would take days to break out even with magic. Unless someone let us out, of course."

"Thank you again, Misaka-san!"

"Yeah, thanks, Esper. I guess."

"I suppose."

The three girls and the Magic-God sat in silence.

"So... You mentioned this whole fight that happened in The Craftsman District, but I still don't quite get it. Joan of Arc came here and did something, is that right?" As Lessar asked, sat up and drummed her fingers on the table.

"I don't know, we still don't know the power she has..." Mikoto answered as best she could, lost on that point herself. "But it feels kinda familiar, for some reason."

"I'm sure we'll determine that soon, so don't worry, Misaka-san." Itsuwa's smile brightened the room immensely. "For now, though, we should return to the others, and let them know we're all right."

"...You three go on ahead. I think I'm going to bed." The esper stood up, but was stopped by Lessar's short laugh.

"Come on, your little spat couldn't have been that bad!"

Mikoto's blood froze in her vein. Without turning she stammered out a reply. "I-I-I have no idea... What you're talking about."

"That room was magic-proof, esper. Doesn't mean it was soundproof."

"...N-no-!" The girl pivoted, her charade crumbling, hoping Itsuwa's reassuring smile would waylay her fears.

The young magician failed to make eye contact, before finally hanging her head. "...We heard every word. I'm Sorry, Misaka-san."

 _Oh._

The library's silence boomed in Mikoto's ears.

 _So this is what it feels like when you die of embarrassment._

"Hey, cheer up! Only three of us heard your declaration of love!

"...gh..." There was still life in Mikoto's corpse: like rigour-mortis setting in she twitched at Lessar's barb.

"It was a pretty good one, too! Lot of emotion there, you really pulled at the old heart-strings!"

"Gh!"

"Don't look so down: doesn't it feel better to admit it? That you LOOOOVE him?"

"GGGHHH!"

"Hey, maybe he'll feel better too if-"

The aura of sparks that had slowly been brewing had become a frenzied tempest. Bookshelves rocked, their iron nails tugged back and forth by waves of fluctuating power. Before Lessar could finish, Mikoto's storm-front broke upon the shores of literature, and she screamed loudly at her tormentor.

"I DIDN'T ADMIT THAT I LOVE HIM, ALRIGHT!?"

The light-show subsided, as did her ragged breath, but the evil grin on Lessar's face brought no comfort to Mikoto. For the esper realized her fatal error.

 _But now I have._ Both hands flew to her lips as she blushed her deepest blush, a faint sound leaking through her fingers. "...Eeep!"

That broke Lessar's composure. "Oh God! D-did you just squeak!?" Once she had picked up her jaw, the magician rocked backward in her chair, riotous with laughter. "I-I-I-I can't believe that! You're hilarious!"

 _I can kill her, right? No court would indite me. I have witnesses, it was self-defence._ But even as the esper planned dire vengeance, her foe recovered.

"...As thanks for saving us, I won't tease you too much about it." Lessar winked mischievously before falling to the floor, her chair betraying her. "A-aagh-!?"

The small bit of schadenfreude Mikoto felt did not ease the sinking feeling in her stomach. "...Urgh." _I think I might be sick. Has the world ended yet?_ _Can it hurry up?_

"Uhm... Misaka-san..."

 _But it's going to get worse before it does, isn't it?_ This other magician's faltering words added dread to the emotion's brewing in Mikoto's gut. _Great, here we go. I can't believe I lost a friend over a boy in the space of three days. And I can't believe it's over HIM..._

"...Misaka-san, I like Kamijou-kun as well. And..." The magician wrung her hands, as if trying to keep them busy. "I don't want to be, but... I'm jealous of you, Misaka-san." Her words hurt Mikoto all the more for the pain she could hear behind them.

"Itsuwa, I..." Still struggling to find her own feelings, the esper realized she had no comfort to give Itsuwa, no way to clarify or repair the damage.

But the magician's resolve hardened, and her eyes met Mikoto with renewed strength.

"I'm jealous of you, because I can tell you really do love him."

That had not been the response Mikoto had expected. She stood speechless as Itsuwa continued.

"I have to admit to myself that I haven't gotten as far as you have. I've been to scared to seek him out, not because I feared his lifestyle, but because I feared to fail. But you..." The magician continued slowly, piecing together her words as if recognizing them for the first time. "When I've fought together with Kamijou-kun, all the times when I should have been helping him, he somehow stood on his own. But he's acknowledged you at his side. I never was strong enough to force myself into his world, to have left my comfort zone and seek him out. I have to admit that."

Mikoto knew Itsuwa's honesty and openness should have been a salve, but something twinged bitterly in her heart. "...Acknowledge me? Hah. Not... Likely." _I should have known. I can never be someone like that, to him. We're in the same boat after all, Itsuwa._

"Nope. That's just bull-****."

Though sinking into despair, Mikoto raised her gaze to Lessar, who had clambered back into her chair. The magician stretched one last time before continuing.

"No, I'm not buying any of that pessimism you're trying to sell, Esper."

"...What are you talking about?"

"You told us the story yourself: he said he wanted you there, during that fight. Even if it was a slip-up, guys like him say what they mean. He's too simple to lie. Too much of an Idiot."

"Heh." Lessar's analysis brought an unbidden chuckle to Mikoto's lips, but it soon died. "...Even if that's true-"

"Look, he's also too simple to contradict himself properly. He's just being stupid and missing the point to ease his own messed up ego or sense of justice. Trust me, I've watched him ignore some perfectly good innuendo. I mean, I KNOW he got the point when I told him about my panties, but he still acted like I was just some confused preschooler that had been corrupted by-!"

At some point Lessar had ended up on the table. All eyes watched as she let herself down.

"...A-anyway, my point is, don't let it get to you. When it comes to seducing Kamijou Touma, we three are all failures together." She stretched out her hand towards the esper.

Mikoto gaped at it stupidly until it was joined by Itsuwa's.

"Yes, Misaka-san: my hand-towel strategy has yet to pay off... We understand how it feels, but you can't give up! I know he will someday understand your feelings! Just be true to what you want!"

The outstretched support was too much for Mikoto to bear.

Her own hand tentatively reached out.

"...Th... Thank..."

Until it snapped back, suddenly.

"W-wait, hold on! I'm not se... s-se... S-SEDUCING him! That's t-too much to admit for one day!"

"You know what I meant, esper. Now put out your damned hand already, this touching little moment is embarrassing enough as it is!"

But just as Mikoto reached out, a small voice sadly drifted up.

"Four."

Though confused for a moment, all three girls looked down to see Othinus reaching up. One tiny hand was aloft, as if she were a small child admitting guilt to some petty crime, a furry white flag of surrender.

"...We are four failures. And I can swear to you that I understand him better than anyone, so my failure is by far the deepest."

Though the others couldn't help but be touched, a sneer crossed Lessar's face.

"I'm glad I locked you in there with us. Even in humility, you have such an arrogant confidence, little cat-god."

"I have ample evidence for my claim. Did he..." Othinus's bravado wavered, but she rallied and faced Mikoto. "...Did Imagine Breaker ever tell you about what transpired, before he decided to fight the world to save me?"

The memory was still fresh in the esper's mind. "Not really... At the time I was just so surprised I couldn't react. But when I thought it over I knew that unless he had gone crazy, he would have a good reason. So I came to Denmark when Academy City ordered me to stop him, to make sure he was in his right mind. Good thing, too. He had this weird guilt complex thing going, but I gaze him some shock therapy and he seemed better." _That was a good day._

"The blame for that state falls on me. As does most of his suffering, then and now."

Mikoto's grin vanished at that statement. The Magic-God didn't seem to be apologizing.

"Esper." Othinus challenged Mikoto with her gaze, but even then her words we halting. "If I told you that I tormented him, brutally attacked his mind, spirit and soul. That I attacked his very will to live, and his foundation for existing, driving him to the brink of suicide. For an eternity beyond comprehension, and that he still decided to save me, and trust me with the future... What would you say?"

Lessar and Itsuwa hesitated, tongue-tied by the depth of what the failed Magic-God had implied.

"...I'd just say that I can see why he won."

Even Othinus seemed impressed by that answer, but Mikoto wasn't done.

"I've long since decided nothing can ever break that Idiot's stubbornness, or his willpower to do the right thing, so I would still trust his decision to spare you. If he wants you to find forgiveness, no matter how impossible, I won't fry you for hurting him." _Much as I'd like to. So very, very much._

"Wow." Lessar slumped back against the table under the weight of the depiction. "That... That's some heavy ****."

"You're amazing, Misaka-san..." Itsuwa seemed equally moved, gripping a spear formed in some impossibly quick fashion. "If that were true, I'd destroy whoever had done so and do my very best to wreak total vengeance on an equal scale. You're far more noble than I am..."

"...Eh?" Mikoto's mouth slowly worked as she debated her next words. _Was she really fooled by Othinus' convoluted explanation, or is she just trying to keep herself from going ballistic by pretending that was hypothetical?_

No answer came before Othinus spoke again, in quiet anguish. "Perhaps you understand him as well as I do, then, Misaka Mikoto."

Her words and tone alike shot Mikoto through, and the esper found her hanging on the Magic-God final admission.

"...After what we went through together, unlike any other soul could ever be, Kamijou Touma is my **understander**. And I am his. But even then, though I know him best... I am stuck as myself. Stuck with my past, and stuck with this body." For once Othinus sounded as she looked. "I don't want to be a Magic God any more. I don't want my powers back. I barely even care to be human, or to find redemption. I just want the chance... To really fight for him. Like you can.

"So you better fight for him. You got that, esper?"[5]

"...Yeah. No problem."

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] I swear this isn't a subtle dig at how irrelevant the series' titular character has become in most recent volumes (Aside from the St. Germain stuff). It's mostly just a recognition that of the three of them, she is certainly the least in shape. (...But really, Kamachi, throw her a bone! She deserves more development, dang-nab-it!)

[2] Shout out to the interesting guess I got as to their identity. I hadn't even considered Hansel and Gretel as options, and honestly I think they would have also fit into this story just as well. It would also be so RailDex, to give them some sort of Twin-Based powers. But alas, this path is set in stone.

[3] I know this pun wouldn't work since he would have to confuse the strange name with some words in Japanese. If you can suggest something that sounds like "antikythera" in Japanese, you have earned my eternal awe. Also, this mechanism actually exists, though whether or not it's a hoax is up for debate. My money is on it just being some ancient art piece or a box of parts that got fused together.

[4] This little detail, about Joan of Arc staying in St. George's, actually comes from Index Old Testament 7. I don't know if her visit was under these conditions, but given how she was french and at war with the English at the time, this is about the only way I could explain it.

[5] Ambiguity: _Noun._ 1) Uncertainty of inexactness of meaning in language. Amazing what you can imply, with the right wording.

[6] AND extra secret bonus footnote! I hope that last bit of romance stuff was interesting. I was building up to this moment for a while: I've long since decided that, if I'm going to write a story, I'm going to tie up every damn loose end I can. I think I did the best I could, but If it pleases you, let me know how you think the motivations played out for each girl's response. I'm interested to see if people can see if I'm on track. But I will note, I HIGHLY doubt this is how the Toaru series will play out. I just like doing things this way, and I hope you do too. Until next time, thanks for sticking with me.


	43. Part 2: Interlude 3

**After last chapter's dramatic finish, it's time for another evening interlude. I'm glad that had a positive reception. For now though, please join me as some new details are revealed and the stakes begin to rise. Once again, and as always, thanks for sticking with me.**

 **Interlude** **3** **: The** **Fourth** **Night**

9:56 P.M., December 27th: London: St. George's Cathedral: Guest Room 1

Though their shared room would never be quiet, Mikoto still felt the Cathedral's emptiness. Usually there were bustling footsteps above her, or strange sounds from the tunnels below. But now all she could hear was the television's incoherent buzz and the sound of water running from Index's shower.

Mikoto shrugged off the feeling of isolation as she perched backwards on her desk chair, the downloaded pages of her latest manga opened on her phone's browser. Escape into someone else's adventures and embarrassments were exactly what she needed, and she laughed quietly at the character's antics.

"Misaka-san, what are you doing?" She felt the shadow Itsuwa's head cast as the magician peered over her shoulder.

Lines of Japanese character filled her screen as the esper switched over to the copy of _Kokoro_ she kept for just such emergencies. [1] "R-reading. Just, reading."

"Ah. That's very studious of you. Do you often spend your time reading?"

 _Manga counts, right?_ "Not always, but pretty often, I suppose."

"How else do you spend your time?"

"A-ah…" Mikoto stalled, only able to think of her curfew-breaking escapades. "N-nothing too interesting, really."

"Esper, you on your phone?" All that was visible of Lessar as she interrupted was her tail, working the remote high in the air as she reclined on their couch. "How'd you get reception down here? I couldn't even get my cell working upstairs."

"Oh, it's Academy City tech, so it's pretty good." _Plus_ _I boosted the signal. A lot._ "But wait, you have a phone?"

"We're magicians, esper, but I'm still a girl. Gotta have some modern amenities." Lessar's tail waved serenely, flicking through channels. "And it's a lot easier to just call someone, rather than use a multi-person communication spell."

"Hey." Before Mikoto could respond Othinus piped up, sitting on the couch's soft back. "Stop channel surfing. You're as bad as the nun: you lack focus."

"You just want me to go back to that shopping channel, Fairy-God."

"Judge me not, girl. It's educational."

The esper sighed, but smiled upon exchanging a knowing look with Itsuwa.

But as the young magician returned to her, Mikoto reflected on the ease of that exchange. _It's gotten a lot more comfortable down here. Even Othinus seems more relaxed._ She then watched the Magic-God leap from her perch to grapple the tail for control of the remote. _Eh…_ _Maybe._

The brief scuffle ended in Lessar's defeat, but she simply stretched languorously. "I'm too tired to really fight, go watch whatever."

"I shall."

Index chose that moment of peace to finish her shower, long hair carefully tied up in a huge towel. It balanced precariously above her tiny frame, but she managed to stagger to her bed without incident. She felt the weight of Mikoto's gaze and turned uneasily to face her as she sat on its cover. "Uhm… Did I take too long? I get in trouble about that a lot…"

"Not exactly." Despite her temerity, Mikoto and the rescued girls had returned immediately to the others, only to discover the meeting had adjourned. After several minutes spent finding the Archbishop and several more answering her questions, they were finally released to the freedom of their room. Upon their return they found Index already heading for her shower. _So now I can finally ask about the rest of that meeting. And maybe about what he…_ "A-Anyway-"

"Nun." Again the Magic-God cut her off. "You were present for the whole meeting, and actually understand magic. Give me information." She had dropped the remote, focused intensely on her startled target.

"Hey! I thought I did a pretty good job describing it!"

Mikoto's protest went ignored as Index launched into an elaborate explanation.

The nun spoke in a long string of strange technical terms. The others nodded sagely, or raised counter points.

And through it all, Mikoto expression fell further and further. _All right, I didn't do a good job. Did they really dumb it down that much for me?_ _I thought it kinda made sense, in a weird way._

"That's bull****." Lessar's interjection broke the girl's reverie. "It sounded strange from how the esper described it, but now I'm convinced. It's total crap."

Itsuwa pursed her lips for a moment before shaking her head. "Though I wouldn't have said it like that, I have to agree." From the couch, Othinus nodded distractedly, television forgotten.

Their immediate dismissal compounded Mikoto's confusion. "Really? But it's Magic: I thought Magic could do stuff like that."

The others glanced at each other, silently shirking responsibility. Lessar lost the staring contest and sighed, propping herself up on the couch's back.

"Look, esper, there are spells that could do some of that, like making puppets and golems and stuff. But whole personalities of ancient people with that kind of autonomy? Why not just bring back Christ while you're at it!? And besides that, there's almost no basis for any of that crap about connections to work. Any symbolic references it uses are just weird forced associations. It's like someone who only had a passing knowledge of magic tried to make an incredibly complex spell, but it actually worked. It's not fair if it's that easy."

The idea of magic not being easy was an unfamiliar worldview for Mikoto. _I guess it'd be like typing numbers into a computer and somehow hacking the Pentagon… God, I hate movie depictions of that stuff._ "So that's why Index kept calling them cheaters. I can see why she'd be annoyed."

"No! Short-hair, that's not it at all!" The girl in question shot off her bed to stamp her her feet. "It's worse than that! Even an amateur piece of music, no matter how terrible, is sound. But these cheaters, everything about them is like... Like using colour to paint a song, or something even stranger! You couldn't hear it, but it's still music somehow! And that's just the stuff that I can understand, the rest is even worse!"

"Oh, so it's like synaesthesia?"

There was silence, and Mikoto drew a bevy of looks. She realized she would have to explain to all except Othinus, who merely rolled her eyes and turned back to the T.V.

"S-Synaesthesia, you know? It's a mental condition, it distorts your perception of reality: your brain's wiring gets confused about input and makes weird connections between things. So you can hear a sound, but get an impression of a smell as well: purple might lead to flowers or something else."

Her fluster made her answer less detailed than she might have on a test, but the others slowly nodded their understanding.

"I doubt that's the full explanation, but it seems like a good analogy, Misaka-san." Itsuwa in particular seemed intrigued. "I wonder what it would be like, seeing the world through those eyes…"

"It's all just stimulation in the brain, like everything else." _Ah-Hah! Finally, something I'm the expert on!_ Trying not to look too pleased, Mikoto brewed up a small lightshow to punctuate her point. "Little electrical signals. They're in almost everything: you, me, even those toys Baker uses."

"What?" Index paused, brush stuck mid-way through her hair. "Toys? What toys?"

"When… W-when that Idiot and I fought her, back in the Dianoid, she had control of these all these stuffed animals and stuff. They had electricity in them, and when I zapped them they blew up like balloons, super huge. She could even make them larger that way, once I showed her the trick by accident."

Though Index sighed at the thought of a massive stuffed toy to play with, Lessar could only scratch her head. "Is that really how science works? Or are motorized expanding plush animals some strange Academy City specialty?"

"No, no: Baker, she worked some spell over these normal, random toys, and they came to life. It was my power and hers together th-"

"That's impossible."

"E-eh?" While surprised by Lessar's immediate rejection, Mikoto rallied quickly. "No, she did it. I was ther-"

It was Itsuwa's turn to cut the esper off, forgoing her usual politeness. "Not the toys part, Misaka-san. Animation is a classic, if underused, field of magic. But you said it used electricity? And your powers affected it?" Mikoto's confidence was shaken, but she nodded. "I'm afraid Lessar is right; that's not possible."

"But… I, I definitely remember! I shocked them, and they got bigger!"

The two magicians exchanged a look before turning to Index. The nun glanced up, having finally worked the knot from her hair.

"Hmmm?"

They all awaited a response.

"Oh, yeah, that's impossible. For sure, definitely."

"Who made you the expert!?" Mikoto held back from pointing an accusing finger, struggling to keep her ire from rising. "M-maybe you just don't know about it! Esper powers can interact with each other, you know, so maybe it's just like that!"

Index was unfazed, already lost in lecture mode. "Esper powers and Magic belong to different worlds; those with natural talent, and those without. They might cancel each other out if each merely created some secondary effect and then let it run its course, like summoning water to put out a fire. But the two working together to create a new effect doesn't make sense in any magical theories. It would be like the Magician was using an Ability, or an Esper was using Magic. Even if it could happen, each would experience such powerful backlash that it wouldn't be possible." [2]

"Well, just ask the Idiot! He was there, he saw!" _…_ _Maybe. Was he ever around for any of that part? Crap, I better not end up looking like the idiot here! That's his job!_ The esper was riled up and ready for an argument, but a loud yawn tore the wind from her sails.

"Screw it. This is putting me to sleep." Lessar gestured a thumb at the room's sole clock. "This all sounds like a bad test question, and I've had enough magical theory for one day."

Her companions agreed, and all soon settled in to bed. But as Mikoto lay between the covers, consciousness fading, the problem remained.

 _I know I'm right, but_ _If that wasn't magic… Then what was she doing?_

!~~~~~~~~!

9:56 P.M., December 27th: London: St. George's Cathedral: Outside A Certain Jail Cell

"Well well, Kamijou Touma. You're remarkably early for once. And alert! Not so tired, tonight? Hmmm?"

Amazo's good natured goading fell on deaf ears. "Not exactly." Touma little wanted to elaborate, so he did what came naturally. "Let's carry on with that story you were telling, Catherine and all that. That's why I'm here, right? Because I said I'd listen and try to help?"

"Your memory has markedly improved since last time, but…" The magician put on a pensive expression. "I don't know… You're not much of an audience tonight."

"Okay, goodbye then, seeya another time-"

"Wait! Wait wait, WAIT!" Touma made it only two steps before a hand shot out through the bars of the door's window. "You promised, blast it! I'm just looking out for you, there's no need for threats!"

"What? 'Looking out' for me!?" The boy stepped back, glaring into the dimly lit cell harshly. "You tried to roll me up like sushi and now you're 'looking out' for me!?"

"Circumstances change, my boy. Difference of perspective, that sort of thing." Amazo casualy dismissed the concern, but the light in his eyes slowly softened. "Besides, stage-craft requires a perceptive eye: I can see the spectre of worry on your brow. You have concerns, I can tell."

"….Maybe about a few things." Though the details of the meeting had long since passed, Mikoto's fiery exit still stuck in his mind. _I don't think I'll ever understand her. Does she just want an excuse to attack me?_

… _But she sure seemed more than just angry that time…_

Touma also could not ignore the fact that Othinus, along with Lessar and Itsuwa, had been found. Though anxious to see for himself, he lacked the courage to venture to their room. _It's full of girls, mostly angry girls. With my luck, I`d walk on in them having some sort of sexy pillow fight and then they'd gang up to murder me._ For a brief moment that imaginary scene played out in his mind, and he was startled to discover that he was weighing his options. Amazo's laugh broke the spell.

"Well! You seem more vigorous by the moment! In that case, let me begin anew, even though my wretched tale of woe might leaden your heart." The man paused for breath, but Touma raised a finger.

"Before you start, can I ask a question?"

"Certainly! Whatever truths fall within my purview, I shall render unto you!"

"Why are you talking like that?"

"W-what?" Amazo's dramatic pose, struck just seconds ago, faltered. But he quickly recovered his poise. "I mean, I beg your pardon?"

"That! You're talking all formal again! I can barely understand you magicians as it is, please don't make it harder for me!"

"Oh, fine." The man shrunk in his shoes, all thespian flair abandoned. "Look, I'm just practising personas for my act, all right? Sometimes being fancy is a selling point."

"You can practice at a time like this?" _I can't even study when an exam is the next day! Well, that's usually for other reasons..._

"I wasn't always so dedicated, but it's become something of a habit." Amazo smiled again, but it was a thin shadow of its former glory. "…That would be Catherine's doing, actually. It will be faster if I just start from where I left off."

!~~~~~~~~!

"Last night I explained to you how Catherine came to my rescue, when I was at my lowest low. I still can't believe she had the audacity to ask me; me! For help that night, after she defeated those assailants. I could barely stand, had pennies to my name, and was about as washed up a magician as can be.

"I tried to explain as much. I don't know how much sense I made. I was fairly drunk at the time, if I recall. But she persisted, and soon dragged me into a taxi which she paid for with scattered change. The driver didn't much care for us, but he relented and soon dumped us out by an abandoned, ramshackle warehouse.

"As he peeled into the night and despite my protests, she pulled me inside what turned out to be her hideout. It was good to be out of the rain, and our footsteps echoed in the cavernous chamber. It was nearly empty, aside from a small table at its far side. On it were some minor arcane trinkets, and a few dusty scrolls of dubious quality.

"I asked her what they were for.

"'They are my belongings. My legacy...'"

"I nodded as if I understood. I would later learn that she wasn't exaggerating: she was even more broke than I.

"Only then did I notice her accent. I asked if she was British. Her silence made it clear that question was ridiculous. I dropped the point. It turned out she had smuggled herself all the way over to America, but again I wasn't aware of that at the time. Back then, I was focusing what remained of my sobriety on her request.

"I asked her again to clarify, and she just repeated herself. That she needed my help.

"I didn't understand, but said I was willing to try. After all, she had saved my life, whatever it was worth.

"For a moment, she seemed to be waiting for something. But then she nodded briskly.

"She said, 'Teach me magic.'

"I begged her pardon. I was fairly certain I had misheard, you see.

"She said again, 'Teach me magic. You're a magician. Teach me.'

"I pointed out that she was the one who had saved me. I think for a moment she hesitated, had second thoughts.

"But she soon seemed certain. 'There is still much I must learn. Teach me.'

"I recall listing several objections. She didn't seem to care.

"I told her I was out of work; she was confident she could help.

"I told her I had no supplies; all she wanted was knowledge.

"I told her I held no more dreams of fame or fortune, had no more love for the stage lights; she told me magic was for done for selfish desires, and for no one else: that the audience didn't matter if you had a purpose.

"I remember finding her strange, almost otherworldly in the depth of her conviction. Even the timing of our meeting seemed in her favour: I wonder if I would have been so easily convinced sober.

"But then again, I don't think it mattered.

"Not after seeing those determined eyes.

"I caved, as I knew I would from the moment she asked. I had no idea how it would work: I was broke, and she was destitute. I had never been a teacher, never taken a protege. Apparently she had never been a student, despite having strength I couldn't hope to match. I was an expert at subtly and misdirection. She was the bluntest person I've ever met. I imagine were the least likely pair of magicians in all America.

"When I finally agreed, she smiled.

"It was a small thing, her smile. I would never be too familiar with it, like I was with the smiles of my audience. Hers was rare, fleeting. When it came and when it went, it was transient in your mind. Oh, on the stage she could smile; dazzle a crowd with her brilliance. I watched her enough to see through the act.

"'But as I took Catherine Baker as my student, her smile was real.

"Finally she spoke. 'Thank you... Master.'"

!~~~~~~~~~~!

"It's a strange thing. Our time as teacher and student defied expectations. The few years we spent together felt like decades, but still the days passed too quickly.

"It was rough at first. We knew it would be.

"First came work. We spent our early days together performing menial tasks and part-time labour, just to survive.

"Our nights were occupied by her training.

"And it was far worse than I had expected.

"Despite the show she put on the night of my rescue, she knew essentially nothing of magic. Of Idol Theory, of the Four Elements. She didn't even have a magic-name! And yet she was able to grant life to the lifeless. She was always humble about her skill, refusing to acknowledge it as more than sometimes convenient trick. Though I analyzed it constantly, I never could find the method behind it.

"Regardless, it was lucky for both of us that she was a quick study. Whether it was true magic or sleight of hand, she learned well. Far faster than I had dreamed possible, we cobbled together an act. And she decided upon her magic name: Coniungo, the Conjurer. I felt it suited, so much so that I didn't even mind her departing from Protestant tradition and not assuming my own Prodigio.

"The first show we performed together, I was as nervous as I'd ever been. She was in no way emotionless, but never displayed the breadth of expression I felt necessary for the craft. But the moment we took the stage, Catherine was a creature transformed.

"Her eyes lit up. Her stance shifted. She took on a life I never saw in her before. I wonder still if she was born for the stage; though I was always Master, it was she who drew the crowds.

"She played a dozen roles: she could be the innocent maiden, chastely scared of hinted magic. She could be the silent mystic, serenely gazing through the veil. She could be the glamorous Primadonna, distracting eyes from our shared secrets. And when the role had served its purpose, it was discarded for the next. Even if you saw the change, you would swear the next face was the only one she'd ever worn.

"And when the show was over, and the crowds had gone home, she was back to her quiet, modest, determined self.

"I admit, I am not a humble man. I had the skill, knowledge, and experience that she desperately needed, I know. But Catherine brought a raw talent and drive that reinvented my act.

"...Yet I have to acknowledge more than that. More than anything else, she gave me hope.

"She was boundlessly confident in our success, in her own quiet way. And every time she proved herself right, and every time she smiled at me, I regained something I had lost.

"Even after she had become more partner than pupil, her efforts drove me on. She demanded excellence from herself, and soon I fell into her routine of endless practice. I had thought myself a perfectionist before. I was mistaken. She pushed me to my best as she sought her own. At times it felt like I was the one keeping up with her, but she always insisted I was the Master. She insisted she looked up to me.

"Our next few years are a blur. We started getting better shows. We started demanding better wages. The part time work that kept us alive soon became nothing more than bitter memories.

Best of all, one night the media world was shaken to its core. The cartel of conglomerates that shut me down in California had weakened and lost their grip. [3] Suddenly the future seemed hopeful. We were not yet as famous as I had once been, but it was more than I had ever hoped to regain.

"But even though I was a man reborn, whose future suddenly shone bright again, one night I noticed...

"...It had been a while since Catherine had truly smiled."

!~~~~~~~~!

"You stopped." Touma's words echoed down the dark halls.

"Hmmm? Have I? Where was I...?" Amazo pushed himself up from the door he leaned against. "Ah, but it's probably for the best. It's getting late again, and you need your sleep. Thank you for hearing me out. My story is nearly done, I promise you; I'll ask no more of you after tomorrow." He disappeared back into the shadows of his cell, and Touma heard the sound of rusty bed-springs squeaking in protest.

"Yeah... G'night, I guess."

Touma wondered why his steps back to his room seemed so sluggish. He was tired, he knew, but still his feet dragged. Abruptly he realized what he needed was an answer.

"A-ah... Amazo." There was no response, so he spoke a little louder. "Amazo?"

"Mmm? Still here, are we?"

"Why are you telling me all this again?"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" The magician's voice was distant. "I want you to know that Catherine isn't just a villain, whatever she may plan to do. I want to convince you to protect her life, even as you stop her. That's all I have any right to hope, for her."

"Yeah, but I was going to do that anyway. Why bother to go into all this detail?"

For a minute there was no response.

The silence became worrying. _I didn't mean for that to sound so rude. But still..._ There was something about the way the 'Amazing Amazo' told his story that gave the boy pause.

"Haah..." Finally, Terrance Bennett heaved a breathy sigh. "Do you ever find, Kamijou Touma, that it helps to talk through your problems?"

"..." He didn't want to think about it.

"Never mind, then. Good night, boy. Don't forget: you're not the only one who needs to sleep."

!~~~~~~~~!

10:56 P.M., December 27th: St. George's Cathedral: Hallway

The magician known as Styil knew he should be resting. He'd been on his feet for days, eating little and sleeping less in his tireless investigation.

He knew it was all the more important he be rested by tomorrow, when he would be forced to deal with a dozen new problems brought about by Necessarius' lack of staff.

He knew he wouldn't like the answers he was about to get.

None of that slowed his foot as it slammed into the Archbishop's door.

Her private chambers were seldom that; by now he had barged his way in so many times they were practically a waiting room. Occasionally she was even present, as he knew she would be this night.

She half turned in her vanity's chair, shirtless, hands fumbling for her back. "Oh! What good timing; Stiyl, would you be a dear and unhook me? These new-fangled brassieres can be such a hassle."

He ignored the teasing smirk on her face, crossing the room with a snarl.

"You didn't tell me you would be getting so close to In-"

"Now, Styil, that's unfair. It's not like I have any reason to see her suffer." Her smile was all the more cruel for its picturesque innocence. "Not this time."

"Y-"

"No, on the contrary, this time it was very much for the Index's protection."

He stared her down, but gradually let himself take a breath.

"...So why reveal yourself at all? It did no good. Baker got away, and got nearly all the artefacts she needed."

"Oh, I never expected to stop her, not this early. Not after the reports about Christmas Eve." The beauty leaned back, doing her best to unconsciously puff out her chest. "Besides, if I had it would have disrupted my long terms plans. You see, Academy City and the Church have come to an agreement."

"...Really. This Baker woman scares you all this much?"

"Oh, it isn't just about her." She stretched, knotting her hands high above her head. "Though I'll admit the Prophecy is problematic. She represents something new. And I'm even more interested in Aleister's reaction." She relaxed abruptly, bouncing playfully in her seat. "But you don't have to worry about such things. That's my job; just think of me as your older sister, Styil! You trust me… Don't you?"

Normally Styil would have been embarrassed by his boss' antics, though he was loath to admit it.

But tonight he just spun and stormed from the room, ignoring her echoing giggles.

!~~~~~~~~!

11:14 P.M., December 27th: London: A Quiet Street

"Today is the first day since this operation began that we have not run into the red, sir." The little accountant's pen darted across his clipboard with pleasant briskness. "Though we pulled nearly all our staff off of their minor assignments for this project, our employer's principle is ample funding to sustain costs, even considering currency conversion from yen."

"Great. Good to hear." Finlay 'the Shark' Morris stretched as best he could inside the nondescript sedan's cab, continually bumping his knees into the driver's seat. The man seated there pulled a face, but remained silent. "That's really great, real excited."

"Sir, we have been eating into our reserves despite full payment of our fees. It's a blessing for our bottom line that-"

"Enough of your damned bottom line." There was only a hint of menace in the Shark's tone, but his partner silenced all the same.

The sat for a minute as the car rolled down London's street.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Treasurer. You know how it is. I'm antsy."

"It's fine, Sir. I understand."

"Not sure you do, my portly little friend." Mood turning on a dime, the Shark was cheerful yet again. "We didn't do nothing today. Damn boring, and I don't like getting paid for nothing." He raised a finger, cutting off his accountant's protest. "Ah-ah-ah, not what I mean! It reeks of foul play, and I know all about that. So why didn't that creepy woman have work for us? I don't like this air of mystique she's got about her. Plus there's all this weird **** happening lately."

"I may have some good news for you on that front, Sir."

"Hey, yeah? Our boys dig up some dirt?"

"Yes, Sir. Our contacts in the police department forwarded me this memo." Before he could read from it, the Treasurer felt the paper ripped from his grasp.

"Good show, all right; just a minute…" The Shark's greedy eyes poured over the details. Finally he barked in laughter, jabbing his fingering into the crumpled note. "Hah! Lookee here! I was right. All that **** about earthquakes and stuff was just that. A load of ****, a big cover-up."

"Yes, Sir, but I have to wonder-"

"It's tied to our middleman, bucko, I know it is. Or, middle-woman, I guess. That Baker lady." The Shark's eyes narrowed, boring holes in the Drivers seat's head-rest. The accountant let the Shark stew for a moment before tentatively objecting.

"Sir, I thought I established already that the true mastermind and financier of this operation was Rosslyn Roosevelt, disgraced American commercial magnate. All we could find about the woman you met with is that she was once a stage performer."

"Yeah, a magician, I know. That's all true. But that ain't **all** the truth." The Shark tapped his prominent nose. "I can tell, it's all rank deception. That's my part of the job, after all. I've got a nose for this sort of thing. Why do you think they call me 'The Shark', huh?"

"Bloodlust, Sir?"

"Well, yeah, there's that." The man shrugged, indifferent. "But that's not the point. This cover up of theirs, about all those dozens of destroyed buildings, that goes all the way up to the Commissioner's desk, happens when we're in the middle of crime blitz and just after we broke our men out of holding, and no one fingers us for the crime? Too coincidental, my friend: too coincidental by a long shot. There's more going on."

"The media has provided ample evidence for-"

"' _Course_ the media'd play along; they're in the pocket of someone, that's for sure. And the story still makes for good News, so they don't care if it's the truth." A smug grin crossed the Shark's pointed face. "And besides, I'm going to win this little argument, my friend, because I know something you don't for once."

The accountant waited for the inevitable reveal. Sure enough, the Shark rummaged through his coat and tossed a simple notepad to his Treasurer.

"What you're reading there are the observational notes of the man I had stationed outside Baker's hidey-hole. How she moves around each night without cluing anyone in, I don't know, but she doesn't know the first thing about ditching a tail. I've got eyes all over the place, and sooner or later in the day someone's spotted her and tailed her back to her new joint."

"I'm aware, Sir, but…" The Treasurer trailed off, suddenly looking pensive.

"Got to the good part, have ya?" The grin turned predatory. "She's got some friends with her. At first it was just a few, and they'd all cozy up in some ramshackle apartment in the bad end of town, you know the type. But tonight, she goes inside with over a hundred people. All into one tiny little bachelor pad, single file. It'd be like a clown-car in there, all those people. But still, my boy saw nothing through the windows, heard nothing. Not a peep for hours."

"…Perhaps there is some secret tunnel…"

"Check your ledger: by fluke, we actually own that joint. We even have the original floor-plans from the crooked developer who built the place. Unless she reno'd the place to fit a hundred people in a single day without evicting or alerting any of the other tenants, something real strange is going on."

The Treasurer confirmed this all with a slow nod. "…Are you implying that Academy City is involved?"

"Sure, that's part of it." The Shark reclined, not caring how his elbows forced the littler man aside. "Those weirdoes at Westfield Mall certainly fit the bill. But I still think there's more. Something even stranger than that. My boys have gotten close enough to Baker and her pals to snoop a little, and they keep hearing strange ****. **** so strange they don't even want to tell me it, because they don't think I'll believe 'em. Strange turns of phrase, her friends asking real obvious questions, like 'what's electricity' or something even dumber. But one word keeps popping up, that I find very interesting."

The Shark leaned forward again, resting impatiently on his knees. Finally he spoke.

"'Magic', they keep saying. Un-ironically, like. Ain't that a coincidence, what with our _magician_ friend Baker? And they're not discussing their side-show act, from what I hear."

The car bumped along an unfinished road, and the Treasurer adjusted his papers.

"You suspect magic is real, Sir? How does this impact our current operation?" When the stout man finally spoke, it was characteristic calm. If the Shark had been hoping for a bigger reaction, his face betrayed no disappointment.

"…I've got reason to suspect that _something_ is real. That's all you need to know. It's personal." They sat in silence for several more seconds. "It really don't matter if you believe me. We've got tomorrow's heist to look forward to. The whole reason I agreed to this damn operation."

"Ah, yes, Sir. The equipment you purchased from Academy City's dark elements has arrived, and everything is in place. Our finances will hold, though they outrageously over-charged us."

"Good. Good." Tension eased from the shark's thin shoulders, and his grin gained a wild edge. "…This time around, I'm letting no magical bull-**** get in my way of my prize." [4]

!~~~~~~~~!

11:46 P.M., December 27th: England: Unknown

Dress shoes clicked on cold carbon floors as Miss Baker prowled her hideout. Behind her two forms followed, one striding confidently, the other scuttling as he clanked.

"Mmmm, yes, today was an 'en-lightening' experience, was it not? Mmm? Mmmmm? " Daedalus looked at both women for approval of his jest. "…Was that the wrong word to use? I thought I had learned the terminology correctly…"

"Your humour bores me, old fool." Agnes kept her tone neutral, but could not hide the curl of disgust on her lips. "If you had not been defeated so quickly we might have accomplished our secondary goal."

"Mmmm, yes, what an interesting powers they both have… I am still in the process of devising counter measures. What a wonderful opportunity to stretch my wings! I have not had such a chance to practice my craft for years and years!"

"Perhaps if you'd had more practice before you would not need to fail so much now."

"Ohoho, how cruel! How terribly cruel…" The light in his eyes grew fiercer as he wheezed steam and laughter. "Speaking of cruel, how is your young brother doing, mm?"

"SILENCE!" Agnes' shriek filled the hall with tormented echoes as she spun on the hunched inventor. "You know nothing! Speak not of him, or I will see you burn!"

"Ooohohoh, my my my my!" He ignored her outburst, but leapt past a hastily launched ball of fire. "My dear, I merely worry for him! He seemed quite distraught upon our return!"

The witch stared Daedalus down for a moment, but soon swept up her robes and stormed down the hall after their leader. She spoke without turning. "…My brother is resting. Today was difficult for him."

He stood still, watching her back as she departed, but gears ground and churned to reveal a smile on his metal-work face. "We're more alike than you would believe, Witch of Woolpit."

Wings spread out from under his cloak, and he took a short running leap to glide gracelessly down the hall. He landed with a racket next to a brewing confrontation.

"For what purpose have you had them bound?"

A short, sturdy woman stood before several large sets of door, staring down Miss Baker. Her black hair was cropped short, framing a plain face. On her side was slung a short arming sword, as unremarkable as her simple plate armour. But the woman's eyes burned with both a bright light and, strangely, an eight-pointed star.

The saint known as Joan of Arc spoke again. "I ask you once more. They have seen the Light of God: why have you had them magically restrained? They are no longer our enemy."

Miss Baker didn't flinch from her piercing gaze. "We will only be taking a small number with us tomorrow. Your powers do not extend far enough nor last long enough to ensure they remain faithful if we leave them here unaccounted for."

"I do not like leaving soldiers behind. Are you certain it is necessary?" The question held the promise of retribution. "I will not abandon those who have taken up arms in my name. It is the least I can do, having pressed them into my holy crusade."

Miss Baker's frown softened, and she nodded slowly. "I understand. But they are needed later; and we cannot risk having them without your influence for too long in this place. They will not be harmed. You have my word."

The stare-down continued, but the Saint finally was satisfied.

"…Very well. So long as this is necessary to our success. I will lead them as you command. For now, know that I have left the artefacts taken from their stronghold in your sanctum, though it did not feel right to pilfer from holy grounds."

"This is war, Joan of Arc." Baker's eyes turned cold again. "What feels right is irrelevant in the eyes of justice."

"I know better than you do, Last." Joan of Arc turned, fumbling as she opened a set of the double doors. "I shall watch over my forces inside this chamber. Alert me when I am needed."

"Very well." Both women left, but only Baker was followed. She allowed Daedalus and Agnes to join her short journey, but when she came to a steel door her hand raised. "For this summoning, I require privacy."

"Ohohoho… Very well, dear leader, very well…"

But Agnes drifted closer. "Then why did you call me from my brother's side?"

"I will need all of you after I have… Acclimated our next partner to this time."

Wordlessly the witch stepped back, displeasure evident but ignored as Miss Baker pushed through the heavy door.

On one side of the small store room she entered was a table, carrying a small copper plate. It depicted a bird, carved in Native American design. She picked it up and studied it, forcing an understanding of it, feeling out its weight and heft.

Eventually the hour arrived. She crossed the room to her prepared Magic Circle, laced with feathers and bramble. In its centre she lay down the copper plate, glowing dully in the candle-light.

She noted again the time.

She double-checked her groundwork.

Soon the moment came.

As always, there was no hesitation.

Stepping to her position above the circle she thrust her arms out beside her. The familiar warming power flowed from her, down into new channels.

 **Something in her gnawed.**

She flinched, knees shaking. But she swallowed back the surprise pain, focusing harder, and soon felt the magic come to life as she spoke the needed words. The copper bird stirred then spun in the harsh light of her spell.

"...Cœperunt autem Quarto die Nativitatis Domini, et dilectus mihi et cantant canticum avis mortem invocant!"

!~~~~~~~~!

The light drained from the room, revealing a small woman in a short robe of thin leather. Slowly she sat up, crossing stiff legs. She rubbed at her dry brown skin, slowly at first then faster, as if terrified of her own flesh.

"W-what is this?" She began to quiver. "What... What punishment is this!? No… No!"

The small woman noticed for the first time her audience of one. Miss Baker stood impassive, outside the circle she had drawn.

"Is this your work? No! Let me die, let me die!" The young woman threw herself at Miss Baker but slammed into an encircling wall of light. Her fists pound against it and wailed in sorrow. "I should be dead, I should be dead! Why have I not joined the spirits!? Where is the spirit world!? Have I not suffered enough!?"

Miss Baker continued her cool gaze, aware that the newcomer had already forgotten her. The young woman continued to rain blows against the barrier even as she fell to her knees.

Though her voice was quaking, she did not pause for breath. "I will not be bound again! Never again! That why I did it, why I had to do it! Why I had to k-"

"You are not a slave."

Finally Miss Baker spoke. Immediately the words rammed home, and the young woman stopped her desperate assault.

The seconds passed slowly. "T-truly?" She finally asked, but swallowed down her hope quickly, a bitter note on her tongue. "…I've been told as much before. What deal would you have me strike? How would you own me, use my soul, that you would grant this freedom? You offer such sweet lies, while I repose in this gilded-"

The wall of light that held her firm disappeared, and she tumbled forward.

"C-cage…?" The vitriol the young woman held vanished just as quickly, and she gazed up at Miss Baker in wonder.

"The shield is gone. You may go as you will. You may even kill yourself and enter the next world, if you so choose."

The young woman glanced at her hands again.

Quickly she met Miss Baker's gaze.

"…Or?"

"If you want to be free, in this world or the next, help me. Join my cause, and we will never be slaves again." [5]

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] _Kokoro_ is a famous turn-of-the-century piece of Japanese Literature. I haven't read it, but if some student was trying to hide her love of manga from prying eyes, this would be the equivalent of hiding a comic book behind _War and Peace_. I've never done anything of the sort, though.

[2] To a certain extent, this is never explicitly stated in the canon, but it fits the evidence I've seen. There have been no concrete examples of Magic directly interfering with Abilities, or vice versa: while it's not proven that they can't, it's not a stretch to imagine they just CAN'T. For those wondering, this does not apply to Accelerator for two reasons. Firstly, when he just passively deflects magic, all he does is knock it apart without really understanding it, and it usually baffles him. In this case, it's just the force he creates impacting whatever effect the magic produces (energy, material, whatever). Secondly, when he DOES get deep into the magic (Like what he did with Last Order in WWIII or at the Dianoid), he can deflect the interference damage, and has done so, though it requires a lot of work and suffering. So while it may be technically possible, it not as if anyone but him, barely Tsuchimikado, and maybe Dark Matter could pull it off without lethal consequences.

[3] See the events of NT 3, and the Hawaii stuff.

[4] I realize that because I wrote so far between chapters, I didn't reinforce the names/nicknames of these two characters as often as I should. I hope it's clear that the Treasurer/Accountant is the same person, the one with the ledger, who appears to assist The Shark, master criminal. They have been carrying out most of the robberies on behalf of Baker so the magical defences of London will find it hard to intervene. They will come up more in later chapters, so it's good to get them clarified now.

[5] Several contradictions have been introduced this interlude. I wonder how they will play out…

All-right, yes, _**I**_ know, obviously. But you know what I mean. If I see you next time, thanks for sticking with me.


	44. Part 2: Chapter 13

**Welcome back, everyone. It's been a short delay, as my first few weeks back at work have been far busier than I expected (My workplace hosted a regional conference for three days, all of which were sunrise to sundown. No overtime, though), so this is likely later than I would prefer. I apologize in advance.**

 **I still haven't decided yet how I want to organize myself this summer: I'm debating going back to a schedule (1 update a week on Sundays, rather than 3 times a week , because my chapters are far longer than before) or just getting them out there when I can, whether that means sooner or later. If you have a preference, let me know, but I expect that the vast majority just read this **** when they have time, so I doubt it matters much.**

 **One minor correction: I labelled a date stamp incorrectly in the previous interlude. Shout out to the Guest who commented on that. Dates are only useful when they are correct (Also, I want to point out that those date stamps are now actually important, and are only going to get more so... But that's a hint for later)!**

 **For now, we launch straight into Day 4. Most of Necessarius is missing, but what's left is ready to take action. Please enjoy the ensuing chaos, if you can.**

 **!~~~~~~~~!**

 **Chapter** **13: The Fourth Day of Christmas**

8:25 A.M., December 28th: London: St. George's Cathedral Dining Hall

Touma reflected on today's much diminished breakfast. Not only was the once packed Dining Hall depressingly empty, but the bowl of sugary cereal compared poorly to the lavish holiday spreads he had been growing used to. His stomach growled in complaint but he chided it under his breath.

 _No, trust me, stomach-san. We're too poor to get used to such high-class food! Good old cereal is better, even if it's still pretty expensive._ As such he relished his next bite with as much dignity as he could muster.

A faint vibration in the table caught his attention.

Touma turned to his left, spoon still in mouth, to see Index shaking in her seat. She had become a white and gold blur.

"ToumaToumaToumacanwegetmoreofthis!? ThisiswaywaywayWAYbetterthanweekoldpickledveggies! ToumaToumaheyareyoulisteningToumaToumaTOUMA-!?"

He swallowed his mouthful carefully, placing his left hand on her head. Her motion rumbled up through his arm and he was forced to withdraw, shaking sensation back into his numb limb. "I was wrong. Forget about cereal."

"TOUMATOUMATOUMATOUMA TOOOOOOUMAAAAAA!" Index had reached an energetic hum, too full of energy to coordinate a biting attack, so he simply pushed her fifth bowl out of reach and kept a wary eye upon her.

Which meant Touma failed to notice Mikoto's arrival until it was altogether too late.

He caught her stare and immediately flinched. She did the same, and the connection lasted an awkward moment.

 _Crap crap crap, is she still mad? I don't see sparks. She doesn't look mad. Maybe… A-Ah, nope! She's seen me hesitate; now she's mad!_ He ducked for cover at the brief burst of lightning flickering at her temple, but Mikoto merely ground her teeth a moment before sighing.

And then swallowed.

 _Usually here is where I chase him off, but…_ Fumbling, she reached for a half-empty box of the cereal left behind, reading the label, anything to avoid looking at the boy's quizzical expression.

Turning it over a moment or two, she finally spoke. "…Tokiwadai never lets us have this kind of cheap stuff." _I kinda miss it, actually…_

Though he was still at first wary, her wording challenged Touma's ego. "Cheap!? This stuff is 500 yen and it only lasts you for a few days! Leftovers are much more economical, I can speak from experience."

"Left-overs? For breakfast? Egh, that's horrible! I mean, one time our kitchens were under renovation, so the chefs had to order stuff from a few different schools, and that was bad enough. It was all cold, the bread was crusty, and-" She quickly realized Touma's frown held not a shred of pity, and she back-pedaled furiously. "B-But you know!? Food is food, right!?"

"…I must learn to enjoy my lot in life." He spoke with all the serenity of a monk, cereal wooden and tasteless on his tongue.

"A-ah, I mean…" In desperation she stretched across the table for a bowl and cutlery. After a flurry of motion and a handful of spilt cereal, the esper had whipped up a bowl of her own, ramming down an overfull spoon before Touma could blink.

She gazed at him with a triumphant fire in her eyes, but slowly realized something was amiss.

Her cheeks bulged, and her chewing slowed to crawl as her mouth became drier and drier. Finally she sat down on the bench in a moderate panic, both hands across her lips, desperately trying to avoid coughing dry cereal across the room.

Across the table, as reverently as a priest handling the Eucharist, Touma raised a plastic pitcher. "…Need some milk?"

Head hung in defeat and face beet red, Mikoto could only nod shakily.

She heard it splash into her bowl, but couldn't bear to acknowledge his efforts until he had finished. Then she swallowed as best she could her, coughing minutely to clear her throat.

Her spoon dipped in for a second attempt, and her next bite went much smoother than the first.

Touma was certain staring would cost him his life, so he meekly returned to his own meal. They sat in silence, so he jumped when she suddenly spoke.

"Maybe I'm used to Tokidawai's catering, but…" She dipped her spoon in for another helping, bashfully stirring it for a moment." …Doesn't mean I don't like this stuff."

"…Heh. Me too, I guess. Even if it's pricey." Slowly breakfast became an orderly affair again, and Touma finally felt at ease. _I was worried, but I'm glad things between us are back to…_ His thoughtful chewing paused. _Normal? Wait, since when has this become normal? Normal should be me confused or terrified, right?_

Yet his many memories of electrical retribution faded in the strange calm of the morning's breakfast. His eyes were drawn unbidden to the girl across the table, watching as she brushed her short bangs from her brow. She raised another bite to delicate lips, but noticed his less than subtle gaze. Recoiling, she missed her target entirely, nearly wearing her spoonful.

"Gg-gah… W-what the Hell are you staring at, Idiot!?" She wiped furiously at her cheek with a napkin. _No, no, no, don't tell me I've got some on me!_

"N-nothing!" _Kamijou-san, that's not nearly good enough! Better distraction, quick!_ He twisted about, seeking inspiration when it finally struck. "Ah-hah! I mean, ah, I-I was just thinking! That cereal's not a safe habit for me to get into… Even if I had the cash!"

"Eh, what? What do you…?" She followed the turn of his body towards Index.

The nun was no longer vibrating. Or rather, if she was, it was no longer visible to the naked eye.

What was visible was a shining aura of light, engulfing her and her cherubic expression in a glow of holy bliss and goodwill.

For Index had, taking a cue from the esper, had just finished emptying the entire box of cereal into her mouth.

No spoon or milk slowed her quest. In one mighty swallow its contents vanished down her maw.

Touma and Mikoto watched in fascinated horror.

The nun steadied herself, both palms on the table. Her back shot ramrod straight: her head she held with pride. It was if, for one shining moment, she had achieved some state of nirvana, of divine inspiration.

Together they bore witness as Index opened her mouth to speak.

Until she fell face-first into her empty bowl.

It wasn't until Touma heard the first gentle snore that he relaxed.

"…That's why." He watched as Mikoto's trembling hands plucked the empty cereal box from Index's lifeless grasp. "Though if I can make her fall asleep reliably, it might be worth the cost."

"That's got to be over 4000 calories; where does it all go!?" Mikoto put down the box in disbelief, turning back to Touma as he counted out his own math on his fingers. "Is she always like this?"

"Sort of. Here in London's she's been a little more… 'herself' than usual. But yeah, most of the time."

"I guess I can see why you always say you're broke…" _And I guess that's why he's always so careful about his money. Can I really call him cheap anymore, if he has to feed that monstrosity of an appetite?_ The esper's moment of hesitation prompted a half-forgotten memory, and she blushed at the thought.

"Mmm? What is it, Misaka?"

"E-eh? A-aahh…" Shocked he'd noticed so quickly, Mikoto had no time to prepare a lie. "W-well, I was just thinking that I promised to feed the nun once and a while for her help on Christmas Eve, and that I should make sure she eats healthier, higher-quality stuff than whatever chea-" She floundered. "Whatever, a-ah, c-cereal and stuff is available back in Academy City, right!? Can't just fill her up with sugar! Eheheh…" Her forced laughter trailed off abruptly as she hurriedly returned to her bowl.

"…While I bet she'd prefer the sugar, thanks for keeping my sanity in mind." But even as he lightly joked back, inwardly he felt uneasy. _It's hard to tease someone who's rich if they're willing to be so generous. Great, now I've lost both 'Biri Biri' AND 'Ojou-sama'…_ He swallowed his next bite of breakfast thoughtfully, pondering alternatives. "I'm sorry."

"W-what?"

"Eh?"

The two shared a look of confusion.

Mikoto finally recovered enough to clarify. "Did you… Say something?"

"I don't thin-" It occurred to Touma that he wasn't so certain. A delayed awareness of his own blurted words crept through his mind. "W-well, maybe." _Did I really? By why? Why would I…_

"I thought… Didn't you, ah…?" Mikoto's perplexity warred with shock, fully laden spoon forgotten. _Did he just…_

 _Did I just apologize?_ The boy was surprised at his own uncertainty. _It's not like I never apologize, but I usually know_ _ **why**_ _. It's not about the nicknames, I'm sure, and she's the one who asked Index for the favour, so it's not about her having to pay for all that food. Though I do feel bad about that…_ He shook his head, but was unable to clear it. _No, I wouldn't just say 'sorry' for no reason, so it must be…_

 _…Is he sorry about what he said? In the meeting?_ The girl collapsed limply in her seat, ignoring the milk dripping onto her lap.

Both remained still, insecure in their own thoughts.

Finally Touma made to stand up. _Well!_ _That's_ _enough making a fool of myself for one morning! Maybe she'll be so confused she'll just forget about that strange comment without getting mad first._ But as he pushed off on the table Mikoto jerked to life.

"Wait!"

He did so, though it wore at his nerves to half-stand there as her face reddened. Eventually she continued.

"I guess… It's okay, I guess."

"What?" He stared stupidly for a second until it hit him. _Oh, the apology._ "…Whoa, WHAT!?"

Now he gawked in open astonishment, hardly daring to believe that he might be witnessing something he'd long considered impossible.

"Don't think you can just pull that sort of crap whenever you want! B-but…" He was not disappointed. "I… Forgive you."

Mikoto felt his heavy scrutiny on the top of her head as she vigorously stirred her cereal. Its coloured marshmallows were already dissolving in a pleasantly distracting kaleidoscopic display. The patterns made it easier to ignore the fact that Touma said nothing, but still she snuck a glance once she sensed he'd fully stood up.

His back was turned and he was stretching awkwardly. A smiled fought to play across his face. "…Thank you, then." _Huh. That wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be._ "Well, I should go make sure Index is still breathing."

As he stepped to his ward Mikoto coughed again. "…I'm sorry, too." _Maybe I really do blow my lid a bit too muc-_

"It's cool, don't worry about it." He waved away her apology with Imagine Breaker while gently lifting Index from her rest. Ignoring the thin line of drool on her cheek, he did his best to prop her up on the bench, but noticed a tell-tale change in the air. He casually turned back to Mikoto. "Eh? Something up?"

Even without the sparks he got the impression she was angry. "E-excuse me? Why are you implying that I'M the one who should be sorrier!?"

"I am?"

"If you accept my apology so casually, you are!"

"…Is that wron-Gh!?"

" **YES!** " Luckily for him Imagine Breaker was already in the way, and it dissipated a lightning lance before he was even aware he should be worried. "A young maiden's heartfelt apology is a big deal, you Idiot!"

Reeling backwards past a still slumbering Index, the boy tumbled into the next table. "M-maiden? Heartfelt? Are you sure…" _Oooohhh…_

Her eyes widened.

 _Oops._

It did not occur to Touma until far too late that he ought not to have questioned her choice of words.

What had once been a quiet breakfast for a handful of tired staff transformed into a lightshow. Those few who hadn't already been alerted to the first signs of trouble could not possibly miss the explosion of lightning and crashing silverware that followed an unfortunate boy into the halls of St. George.

!~~~~~~~~!

"Not A… Good way to… Start your day…" Touma peeked out from behind one of the Cathedral's many pews, still panting as he cowered in its main chamber. For a moment the coast was clear, and he relaxed. _Though you know, I may actually prefer it happening now than at night, when I'm already tired. This is almost like a morning jog._

"You can't hide, Idiot! You know I can tell where you are!" Mikoto's echoing voice boomed louder and louder as she approached, underscoring the sound of her slapping footsteps.

 _Then again, she's wide awake as well._ He sighed, annoyed at how every fight between them went the same way: she was athletic enough to keep up with him, and almost impossible to lose in a chase. If he had to outlast her like he usually did, today was going to be very long indeed.

Instead he tried a different tactic. "How about if I apologize again!? Will you not attack me if I apologize again!?"

For a second there was no reply as silence reigned, but then she yelled back.

"You'd better be on hands and knees!"

 _That works. I already am! Plus I'm in the church of a God I've probably pissed off: maybe I can kill two birds with one stone._

Even though this plan sat well with Touma, he wasn't about to trust himself to the whims of his luck. So when Mikoto barrelled around the corner, she saw he had assumed the position in the St. George's central aisle, but also had raised Imagine Breaker defensively overhead. His cheesy grin peered out from behind it.

The sight was nearly enough for her to break their deal on the spot, but she managed to dismiss the crackling lightning.

Seeing this, the boy sighed. "S-so, we're good right?"

"You haven't even apologized yet!"

"Right! Right, sorry! You're a maiden if you say you are, not my place to question!" He flopped around like a desperate fish, bowing and flailing in dramatic apology. "Forgive this contrite Kamijou-san."

This did not satisfy Mikoto as she had hoped. "S-stop that! Get up off the floor already, you're making a scene." She pivoted on her foot, checking for invisible witnesses.

"How can you say that with a straight face?" Touma was genuinely perplexed as he pushed himself upright. "You shoot lightning everywhere as it is, and plus, you're the one who told me to beg in the first place."

"That's not! The point!" She stamped hard, though it had no effect on the century old stone. "And put your damn hand down already! Waving that impossible thing around just makes me angrier. I'm serious, I'm not going to zap you! " _Even if you deserve it._

He finally lowered Imagine Breaker, but it hung uneasily by his side. "It's not like I can put it away, you know. It doesn't come off."

"I bet I could fix that…"

He leapt back and cradled it protectively. "Please no! I hate how it just grows back; it feels so tingly and weird afterwards!"

 _Your arm can grow back magically, and that's your problem with it? My god._ "Yeah, yeah. Keep making excuses." But she could stop a chuckle as he waved it about in mock distress; he smiled at her approval. For a moment, the atmosphere was light again,

Upon noticing so the esper flushed red. "S-so…"

"I wonder what's going to happen today." Touma's sudden sombre reflection lent an uneasy colour to the mood. "It's still early, but so far we've always been lead around to the trouble. Don't you get the feeling that something bad is on the way?"

"Don't you always have that feeling?" _But now that you mention it…_ They stood in the silence of the cavernous chamber for a few moments before Mikoto continued. "I haven't seen the Archbishop yet today, or those other two, those friends of yours." He tilted his head. "You know, the tall guy and your classmate."

"Oh, Stiyl and Tshuchimikado? Nah, they had other stuff to do: it's been awhile since they really stuck around for any adventure." He sauntered away with a listless air from the girl, moving towards the St. George's tall front doors. "Honestly, people just pop in and out of my life: it's like there's a revolving door. Or maybe some strange system where they take turns bringing trouble."

She followed after him, but couldn't resist a cheeky grin. "Maybe they've just had as much as you as they can take."

"Hey!"

"You know, before they have to go in for therapy. Or decontamination treatments."

"That's even worse!" He sputtered as he stopped, trying to rally his confidence. "It's not like it keeps you away!"

"T-that's completely different!" She struggled to think how. "I mean, someone's got to make sure you don't go do something irresponsible!"

"I always act responsibly!"

"You **left** me in **Hawaii**!"

"That's completely different!" He struggled to think how. "Y-you came there on your own, and I got whisked away! Can't blame me!"

"I can blame you for a whole Hell of a lot more than that, buster!" Her halo of sparks had reappeared, but neither seemed to notice. "How about that time I caught you in the streets in a Academy City hospital gown, dragging an I.V. stand around like you were walking your dog!?"

"All-right, well, that was stupid, but I had to! Besides, it was just me that suffered for it that time."

"That doesn't make it a responsible choice! Or make me happy about it, you damn Idiot!"

"Why? I thought you liked seeing me in bandages, the way you-"

She loosed a tiny bolt without moving an inch. Imagine Breaker caught it instantly.

"Aagh, l-look! There you go again!" But he faltered at her triumphant expression.

"Think again!" She laughed delightedly. "I didn't even forecast that one or raise a finger, but you still stopped my lightning! I know I can't hurt you, and I don't ever expect I'll actually connect anymore, Idiot. Not after the…" _4_ _th_ _? 5_ _th_ _? 12th time I chased you around? …Maybe I should have toned that down a bit._

AS she stewed in embarrassment, the boy was equally disturbed. "Drat. Betrayed by my own reflexes. How could you, arm-san?" But for once he had to acknowledge the truth. _I guess to her, most of the time it's the same as a playful punch on the shoulder. Not that I like that any better, really… And I'm usually not knocked with enough juice to power my apartment for a month._

"Well! I win!" Smugly confident, the esper raised a V for victory. "Going to apologize?"

"Apologize!? Again!?" Touma`s male ego had more spine than that. "You sure seem to like hearing me say sorry; what are you, my gi-" He froze.

The disaster in waiting weighed heavily on his tongue. He had almost spoken the word that, he strongly suspected, would send Mikoto into a veritable thunderstorm. The girl in question merely mirrored his confused expression from before, her short hair waving as she tilted her head. He faced away from her, thinking fast.

"…M-m-mother." _Mother's are normally like that, right? Is my mother like that?_ Touma had no recollections to fall back on, aside from vague impressions gathered from television and conversations around him. _Amnesia sure can be annoying…_ But he sighed, having safely the dodged the problem.

Or so he thought.

A muffled explosion rattled the chamber's rafters, sending dust drifting down. He froze, exasperated and no small amount worried she might have guessed what he had choked back.

"N-n-now, now, come on, Misaka, that joke wasn't that bad! This place is sacred or something, right?" _Sanctuary! SANCTUARY!_ But as he turned back towards the girl he did not see the expected sparks.

"T-that wasn't me!" Mikoto was casting her gaze about, clearly sending electromagnetic signals to pinpoint the disturbance. "And I know better than to fire a Rail-gu-"

Another distant blast reverberated through the stale air, and they turned to each other.

"Later?"

"Yeah."

The commotion was coming from outside. By now fearing the worst, together they slammed through the big double doors and into the face of a small army.

They stumbled on the Cathedral's short stairs, seeing that beyond its gated walls were nearly a hundred figures. They stood two rows deep, most in full magical combat robes. Though a few were dressed more casually or even as serving staff, all seemed unreasonably calm in the cold morning air.

For a long second, the two couldn't process the nonsensical development.

"Are those the missing magicians?" _Well, not anymore._ Mikoto shielded her eyes from the harsh light as she struggled for a better look. _But something is definitely off._ "Why are they just standing out there? And facing us?"

"Don't ask me: maybe it's another strange training thing?" But even as Touma offered the thought, he made out two familiar faces. One was hidden behind glasses and a bundle of messy brown hair, while the other sported a neatly bound black ponytail. "Wait, is that… Did they get taken too!?"

In his focus on Necessarius, the boy realized he had forgotten to consider those boarding within the Church over the holiday. Those magicians, like Agata, of the Agnese Forces, and Uragami of the Amakusa Church, stood shoulder to shoulder like soldiers with their comrades, staring down the much smaller delegation splayed out on the front grounds.

Between the two watchers and the opposing force was a rag-tag gang. Many of those few remaining magicians from breakfast were now outside, hastily scrawling magic sigils and circles as best they could through softly packed snow. At their core, standing in the walkway's centre mid-way to the gate itself, was the Archbishop.

She turned with a breezy wave, her luxurious hair billowing defiant against the biting wind. "Ah. There you two are. Good timing: I will not have to send someone for you after all."

"What's even goin-!?" Touma was cut off by a third burst of sound. This time, he could see the cause.

He strongly suspected, from the way it glowed, that St. George's gateway was heavily fortified by defensive magic. On top of that its two locked door were made of massive wrought iron bars, thick enough to stop anything less than an armoured vehicle.

The gate was already bent inwards by the time they had arrived, but it flew off its hinges completely after a third powerful blow. The strained magic shattered in one final explosion, a billowing shockwave that knocked over several nearby magicians. One half of the gate careened into a tree, biting deeply into its trunk. The other skidded along the ground towards the watching defenders.

By reflex Mikoto plucked it from the air, but before she could slow it much it disappeared in a blinding flash of light. The Archbishop lowered her hand casually, the golden glow around her hair already dissipating, and as dust cleared she haughtily smiled at the intruder. "Did you not have enough the last time you were our guest?"

The short, sturdy woman standing in the wreckage of her enemy's fallen defenses choose to ignore the jibe. Instead she merely lowered her gauntleted hand, letting it ease from a fist as she placed it on the pommel of her sheathed sword. She cut a grim figure, clad in unpolished and unadorned full-plate from head to toe. The only symbol it bore was a simple fleur-de-lis, inset on the centre of her breastplate.

When the snow and dust had settled, she shouted aloud. "I shall announce this one last time! Rather than begin a full scale assault, I offer the chance for an honourable duel. Pick your champion, and face me in combat! The victor shall carry the day: you have my word. Otherwise, we will attack in force."

"Time out! Time out, please!" Touma dramatic effort to be heard prompted a curious look from the intruder, but he persisted and turned to the Archbishop. "What's happening!? Who is this!? Why are the missing magicians out there!?"

"We are under attack, that is Joan of Arc, and I do not know. It is not all of them, regardless: about a third, I should say."

"A-ah." He fell back on his heels, looking thoughtful before shaking his head. "T-that didn't help nearly as much as I'd hoped it would."

His host ignored the boy's woeful expression, continuing to stare down the saint. "I would normally suspect some form of mind-altering magic, or possibly a very complex illusion. But the only spell active between her and the traitors looks like some form of attribute-apportionment magic. Oh, and the people-clearing spell they have erected around the block, but that is insignificant. I suppose I will have to send for the Index after all…"

"App…Apportionment?" She frowned at his obvious puzzlement.

"I must be brief. There exist a class of spells that drain attributes from one source and gather them in another: strength; speed; endurance. In this way, many willing magicians can sacrifice their own abilities to temporarily empower another. I will not bother to explain the symbolism behind it."

"S-so, she's stealing their strength?" The idea of a super-powered saint nearly made the boy sick with worry, but the Archbishop only frowned deeper.

"Not any more. Now she is giving them much of hers. And I do not know why." The beautiful woman blew a stray strand of hair from her pouting lips. "We have few options. With what forces we have we cannot hold this position with St. George's outer defenses already penetrated. I am confident the Inner Sanctum could be made inviolate, but that would reduce us to waiting out a siege, and sadly we find ourselves on a strict schedule. I had expected a saint, but not one who would break down our barriers in an instant. She might even have the potential to be pope-class." She sighed heavily, before glancing at her nails. "Saints are quite troublesome."

The many details rushed through Touma's scattered mind, but before he could make sense of the situation Joan of Arc spoke again.

"You have no one brave enough? I had hoped one of the newcomers would suffice, but very well. We attack, then." But as the woman made to draw her blade, a challenger stepped forth.

Touma's feet crunched on the snow of the pathway as he raised his fist boldly.

"I can't let that happen! If you attack with the missing magicians, how can I make sure they don't get hurt!?"

The question seemed absurd to the woman. Finally she answered, blade rattling back into its scabbard. "This is war. Soldiers get wounded. That is the nature of things."

"But why do we need to fight!? I can't believe that these people are willingly betraying Neccessarius, and even if they did, why this prophecy is so important to you?"

For a brief moment, the woman's stance shifted. But before she could respond, the Archbishop interrupted.

"There is no point reasoning with her, Kamijou-kun." Touma glanced over his shoulder at her shaking head. "I already told you: she is not going to let you argue with her."

"But still, I have to try!" He took another step forward. "And if that doesn't work, then I'll just have to break her illusions myself!"

Touma had thought his directness was at least mildly impressive, but Joan merely raised an expressive eyebrow.

"…You seek to duel me? As you are?"

The boy swallowed hard, but dropped into a fighting stance. "Well, I don't WANT to, but I will!"

"Where is your equipment? Are you a magician? I don't see any magic. Do you not have armaments? Something? Anything?" As the boys faced turned redder and redder, Joan's shoulder slumped. "Are you such a greenling as that? _Merde_ , you are worse than I, when I was young. And that all besides, you would duel me with help?"

"Hey! I've been through plenty of crazy fights like this, I'm not… Wait, with help?" Touma's gaze drifted slowly to his side. "M-Misaka!?"

There was Mikoto, having followed him in lock-step as he made his challenge. She met his eye for a brief moment, before whipping her head forward.

He stared at her but she refused to comment, aside from growing redder by the second. Finally he coughed. "…Ah, what are you doing?"

"F-fighting! Obviously. I mean, what does it look like?" Ignoring his keen gaze she pointed a finger dramatically at the Saint. "We're not going to let you invade St. George's, you hear me!? And leave everyone else out of it: this is between us!"

"So, this pretty young girl is your champion? I remain uncertain that this is an improvement, so far as combat goes..."

"Pretty… H-HEY, WAIT! Watch it, lady! Or I'll crumple you up like a can ready for recycling!"

"Though I do not know exactly what you mean by that, I can recognize a challenge when I receive one."

As the Saint readied her sword again, Mikoto cursed inwardly. _Drat, I didn't think about the problem of anachronistic insults. What would she even be familiar with? Did they have sealed sardines back then, maybe…?_

Her pondering was cut short when Touma stepped between the two.

"Whoa, Misaka, hold on! You realize that's a saint, right?"

"Yeah, so? I've fought one before. They're tough, but I can adapt."

"Once, in Academy City, with all the tech gizmos and metal you could want! This is London, inside a magical arena!"

"You're the crazy one if you think YOU can do better!" Mikoto gestured dramatically at the wreckage of the gate. "She just punched that through a tree; what are you going to even try to do, hope she trips over your corpse!?"

"That's needlessly grim imagery, Misaka!" _But she has a point._ "Look, I don't know, but I'm not letting you-"

"L-LETTING me!? Try and stop me, Idiot-!"

"Don't make me-!"

" _Bonté divine_ , please! Enough already!"

The sparks died down, and Imagine Breaker wavered. Touma and Mikoto glanced over at their forgotten foe.

"You two would try the patience of Mary herself!" Joan held her helmeted head in both hands, as if holding in her exasperation. "Just tell me, which of you is to be my opponent? I came here on a mission, not to witness a _querelle d' amoureux_!"

"I am!"

"No you're not, Idiot!" _Wait, what'd she say? My French is rusty-_

"Misaka, there's no way I can let you fight her alone!"

"W-welll, same to you! You'd be squished like an Idiotic bug!"

"I woul-"

" **FINE!"**

The ground shook and heaved, and a thunder clap rent the air. The two spun in shock as Joan retrieved her sword from the pavement slabs, which had been smashed into a crater.

"Have it your way, troublesome youths! As frustrating as it may be…" Though irritated, Joan couldn't help but grin before she slid down her faceplate. "I admire the connection you two share. As you will it: I shall duel you both."

 **"THAT'S NOT WHAT WE WANT!"**

But the woman had decided: her blade swung free and clear, and she levelled it at her foes. "Stand ready."

Quiet descended upon the cathedral's field. Many of the remaining Necessarius magicians, who had not even slowed their magical tasks upon the Saint's pointed entrance, spared an uncertain glance at their leader. Her firm gaze sent them back to work with renewed vigour.

Touma looked first to them, and then to the Archbishop. No one seemed to be interrupting, or otherwise throwing themselves into the line of fire. _Which means I get to fight a saint. Oh boy._

 _Oh boy, here we go! I've been lucky twice in a row: I can keep throwing my weight around without the Board of Director's catching wind._ Mikoto had not missed the Archbishop's statement about the people-clearing spell, vaguely familiar with such from Christmas Eve at the Dianoid. Yet while she remained optimistic, she had sense enough to be cautious. _It's two to one, but she seems real confide- !_

She felt more than saw the Saint's opening move.

The ground rumbled as the woman hurled herself into the air, sword raised for a hammer blow. Touma and Mikoto squinted up into the bright sky as the Saint began her deadly descent.

But her fall slowed to an impossible halt.

Until she rocketed dramatically off course, cratering into the frozen ground across the lawn and throwing up a plume of turf and snow. Magician's scattered for cover as the saint followed the arc of Mikoto's arms, magnetic fields at full power.

"What, and you were worried!?" Caught up in moment her smile was manic, small arcs of light flickering across her body. "I bet she's regretting putting on all that armour right now!"

Having steadied himself after the small earthquake her fall brought, Touma peered with worry. "That's not enough to stop a saint!"

"No, but this might be." The lightning amplified, and there was a horrible screech of metal. Mikoto winced in pain as all others covered their tortured ears.

"W-what are you doing now!?" Touma tried to shout above the clamour. Whether or not he was heard, she responded promptly.

"I've wrapped a field around her, to squeeze her like a tin of sardines!" The sound grew louder as the esper bore more and more pressure down. Soon steam billowed up from the crash site, snow around the Saint boiling from the heat and pressure her suit was under. [1] "I thought of this after my last run in with one of these durable girls!"

"…That might be enough to stop a Saint." Touma watched in wonder as Mikoto strained, sweating.

Through the steam a standing figure emerged.

The suit had been compressed down cruelly on its occupant like foil, casting a dull red glow onto the snow. Its joints were badly damaged, and it balanced precariously, still under the assault of titanic forces.

"Moving her around like a puppet is just cruel, Misaka!"

"T-that's… not me…!"

One arm had managed to move.

It twitched slowly, then reached forward. It was followed by a leg.

Soon the armour was inching its way back towards the duo, ignoring magicians scattering from its path.

Struggling, Joan managed to grasp her hands together, ripping a gauntlet free. She tossed it across the yard, striking a bush that promptly burst into flames. The other followed, and soon the rest of the Joan's armour was discarded to steam on the St. George's snow covered field.

" _Feu de l'enfer,_ that was hot!" Gasping, flushed and sweaty, the Saint ran a hand through her sticky hair, her cloth tunic and slacks even more plain that her ruined armour. "That was a greater trial than the stake, and then I had my Stigma was suppressed!" [2]

"How did you not roast!?" _Damn Saints really are durable._ "Well, I can just put it back on you and try again-!"

As her arms swung out one was grasped. Touma's warm hand was in stark contrast with the cool air, and she fought back the urge to recoil in embarrassment.

He ignored her distress, gesturing out across the yard. "Misaka, you can't! Just look."

His finger pointed at the rows of missing magicians, but they were standing no longer. Several had fallen to their hands and knees, while others leant upon the Cathedral's fence. All were flushed red and sweating, and some were barely conscious as they sweltered under their robes.

"Oh no." _Did I almost cook 100 innocent people?_ Her hands shook at the realization.

"I suppose that was an obvious ploy." Joan of Arc's grimace bore more than remorse: she almost looked embarrassed herself. "I regret having to use them to spread out some of my heat-attribute, but even I might have passed out under such heat. You burned the life out of the air itself."

"How could you do that to them!?" The Saint jerked stiff Touma's swift accusation. "They might have died if they'd gotten any hotter!"

Joan of Arc settled herself with a shake. "They are soldiers, fighting in God's name. Some suffering is unavoidable."

"You can't treat people like… T-that...?" _Why does that seem so-_

"All-right, plan B!" The spent armour launched at their foe, having been stealthily raised by Mikoto's magnetism during the distraction.

She didn't even dodge. With one hand Joan of Arc slapped each piece out of the air in turn.

"What a waste. A perfectly good suit of plate, that was." The Saint was composed, much more so than the esper. "So this is all your doing? I don't see you working any magic I am familiar with, though you are waving your hands about..."  
Mikoto remained silent. Curious, her opponent went on, speaking as she scooped handfuls of snow to pack onto her exposed skin.

"I'm not familiar with that kind of attack. But it seems you can only work such power on metal? Are you like that Daedalus fellow?"

As the Saint bent down for her third helping, Mikoto's patience cracked.

"Hell no! I'm no magician, and I'm NOT like that old wierdo. You're fighting the Railgun, Academy City's Number 3 esper! And my ability is none of your business!"

Touma was forced to step aside as Mikoto's lightning flared, gouging thin lines in the snow. But her words had an unintended effect.

Joan of Arc was impressed. "An ability? Really?"

"What? Oh, ah, y-yeah! That's what I said!"

The Saint sighed a moment, suddenly wistful. "I see. A pity mine is of no use in these circumstances, or we could have a different sort of duel."

'What…? What do yo-" _Mine? And what does she mean by "different"?_

"I suppose it doesn't matter. At least there is no point looking for my sword."

"Don't think we're done here-!"

Mikoto had nearly forgotten than a moment's hesitation against a Saint was deadly. She realized a moment too late that Joan's open demeanour made her no less of a threat.

With supersonic speed Joan of Arc sprinted across the lawn, snow and dirt exploding behind her. Though she sensed the danger faster than any normal human could, the esper's radar could not help her generate electrical power more quickly.

The Saint touched down mere feet from Mikoto, fist swinging quicker than the eye could follow.

 _Too F-!_

As suddenly as Joan of Arc opponent arrived, she darted back. The rush of wind from her approach alone was enough to blow the esper back several feet, and while staggering she saw that Touma had somehow interjected Imagine Breaker into the Saint's path. Mikoto's thoughts finally caught up with her.

 _-ast!?_

In several nimble hops Joan of Arc retreated, looking inquisitive, as the girl recovered and the boy steadied himself.

"…So you were the one I was warned about. But why only act now? And so slowly? What attack were you launching, boy?"

"Just a punch. Nothing more." Touma's expression was grim.

"YOU IDIOT! What did you think that was going to accomplish!?" Despite her words Mikoto's gaze was full of awe. _How the Hell did he do that!? He was standing all the way over there, so how did he run several feet before I could even charge up a bolt?_

"M-Misaka, please-"

"Why does the girl seem so confused? Even if you are slower than me, you cannot be so fragile that…" Joan of Arc eyebrows, curled at first in confusion, abruptly leapt upright as understanding hit. "…Could it be he's not a Saint?"

"…I-If you're going to bluff something like that, TELL me first, I-Idiot!" But the esper's anger was weak, and she blushed deeply red.

"Well, it wasn't going to work much longer anyway." _She would have seen through that lie as soon as she attacked me from a blind spot, or tried a feint. Would've been nice if it lasted a bit longer, though._

"An admirable deception, I admit. But if you are not a Saint, how did you intercept me so successfully?" Again, her eyes lit up as she came across the answer. "I see… You anticipated my attack. Can you see the future? That might even up our combat."

"Sometimes I really wish I could. But no, I just saw an attack coming from the way you were standing."

"I am so easily read? My drillmaster would hang his head in shame." The woman nearly laughed, stretching her shoulders. "So, are you just a skilled fighter? That is unlikely to help you against me, and you seem young, to be a master of hand to hand combat…"

"Not really, I've never actually trained or anything."

"R-really?" Joan froze mid-stretch, composure cracking. "At all? How can you read me so well? Are you just naturally gifted?"

"I'm only better than average at long distance running, and even then just barely. I'm not gifted at anything. Except maybe bad luck…"

"…M-may I clarify something, please?" Touma watched as the woman struggled to hide her emotion.

"U-uh, sure?"

"You're not a Saint, of God's Christian Church, correct?"

"No."

"And you're not some divine vessel from a different religion?"

"I don't think so?"

"Not some demon, some _diable, n'es tu pas?_ "

"I hope not! And, ah, what was that last bit, again?"

"Are you some kind of strange modern machine, that my allies have spoken about at length?"

"I'm pretty sure that's another no."

"You must at least have an ability. Please, it must be so."

"Well…"

For a brief moment, hope was rekindled in Joan of Arc's eyes.

"…Sort of?"

" _Mon dieu!_ I give up! My first battle after my holy penitence is to invade a church, fighting two children, and one of them is completely powerless!?" The Saint had fallen to her knees, both hands clasped to her forehead. Now she brought them together and gazed upwards, in fervent prayer. "My Lord, have I really sunk so low in your sight!? Can I not be tasked to exterminate vermin instead, and perhaps work my way back up to your divine light!?"

As he watched Touma edged closer to Mikoto. "Is she comparing us to rats or something?"

"I don't care. Either way I've had it." The girl's hand disappeared into her pocket, pulling forth one shiny coin. "No more Mrs. Nice-Railgun."

"You keep saying that word…" Joan of Arc spared a moment from her prayer, speaking back to the esper as she knelt. "'Rail-gun', is that it? What exactly does that even mean, pray tell?"

"Here, I'll show you. Just stay right where you are." She flicked the token upwards, glinting as it caught the morning light.

"Very well, I accept the challenge. Perhaps this wi-"

Touma felt the air bristle with potential for a split second before the coin at Mikoto's fingertips flashed incandescent.

The Saint recovered from her penitence just in time to see the hunk of superheated metal strike her undefended midriff.

The air exploded, and smoke rushed over the battlefield.

"There…" The esper exhaled slowly, steadying her breath. When she did, she smiled. "Walk that one off."

She was pleased to see their foe buckled over, cradling her stomach. But then the woman straightened, slowly.

"A-ah…!" She prodded at her flesh tenderly, revealed in a rough circle burned through her shirt, as if in shock. "That… Was potent! Can I have actually been bruised while at my full potential? I did not think such was possible."

 _That's… Not good. Not good, not good, now what?_ Mikoto saw few other options, so she reached for another token.

The next Railgun had a similar effect, and the Saint was forced to raise both arms to block it, too off-balance from the first to dodge. Within moments, a third followed, but the fourth was noticeably weaker.

Her breathing ragged, the esper was forced to ease her assault. For a moment her knees wavered, but she forced herself upright. _Agh... That induction trick really took it out of me. I can't keep hammering away at her like this!_

"…Is that your limit?" The smoke cleared to reveal the Saint remained, having somehow raised herself to one knee during the barrage. "I feel my arms may be sore for some hours, but I will preserve. Do you have any other techniques to…?"

She trailed off, and realizing why, Mikoto flinched. For the Saint had just noticed Touma's disappearance.

Her eyes crossed the battlefield, widening as she saw his back rushing towards the line of magicians outside the Cathedral. They remained in perfect formation, stares forward, oblivious to his approach.

Until as one they pivoted to face him, unsheathing every variety of magical armament under the sun. Staff, wands, blades, maces, spears; even a broom were suddenly levelled at Touma, and he stumbled to a halt in the face of the bristling array of weaponry.

Now that he approached, something peculiar struck him in their bearing. They seemed too regimented, too perfectly in sync. And their eyes-

But before he could complete the thought the ground behind him heaved. It was enough to throw him off balance, and though he had already begun tucking into a combat roll he felt a supersonic arm wrap around his waist.

"Do not touch them."

The world spun as he was hurled bodily backwards. He crossed the front yard to slam into Mikoto, and neither could react as they tumbled past defending magicians, to lie splayed out upon the frozen cobblestones.

As they fought to regain their senses, a shadow cast over them.

"This duel was a farce from the outset. It's time to end this."

In one hand the saint held her shining sword. She raised it on high.

Mikoto quickly grasped it with all her might: it swung down with killing speed.

Touma grasped Mikoto in turn to throw her from its path: it was too late.

But instead of dreading their death approaching, both boy and girl instead noticed something strange, something before now overlooked.

Until this moment, they had not seen Joan of Arc close enough to get a good look at her face. And Touma recognized what it was he saw on the faces of the missing magicians.

The parallel discovery ran through their minds, a recollection to someone hauntingly familiar.

 _Her eyes-_

 _-are stars?_ [3]

There was a crash of metal, and the whole world trembled.

 _ **Footnotes:**_

[1] Have you ever seen that science experiment where someone takes a huge metal coil, runs a really strong current through it to generate a magnetic field, and then drops something magnetic through the coil's centre? That's a process called induction, and the thing you put inside floats within the coil for a bit, and then starts to heat up. To the point that I've seen iron flow like water. It's more complex than I describe it, but this isn't a great place for a physics lesson.

That's what she's doing, here. I don't think Mikoto could generate quite that much of an effect from so far away, and through the medium of air, but if she can fire a rail-gun from her finger tips I suspect she could make life very unpleasant for someone in a suit of armour.

[2] This is subtle, so I feel it's worth explaining a bit. I follow history in that Joan was burned at the stake, but that wouldn't kill a Saint, right? Well, remember that their powers come from their resemblance to the Body of God, Christ, a power called "Stigma" (A play on Stigmata, which are the holes in Christ's hands from his crucifixion). Saints lose their powers when attacked in way that mirrors the death of Christ, so it's implied here that this was done to her in advance of her burning. Makes sense, right? This theme will play in much later, so keep it in mind.

[3] Some of you may have already guessed this correctly. I dropped some hints here and there before (kudos to anyone who can find some, I'm sure I've forgotten most by now), but this chapter should have made it pretty much clear what the twist is. Bear with me: I'm going to explain everything.

Next time, obviously.

Or maybe a bit later. Until then, thanks for sticking with me.


	45. Part 2: Chapter 14

**Welcome back, to the first chapter where I have finally stared rebuilding a backlog of material. Last summer, I was always at least 4 (!) chapters completed ahead of what I posted. That gave me a week to proof-read everything multiple times, but when school rolled around I basically just put things up when they were done. Now that things have settled down at my job, (Just finished hosting a multi-day conference) (Extra edit, hilariously things got insane again the day before I upload this, and if you're wondering why this matters I do editing at work on breaks) I've begun writing ahead of what I post again: hopefully this can let me keep up a steady stream of material with fewer droughts in the future. Also, expect better editing, because I actually have time to do that again.**

 **We left off on a cliff-hanger last time. It's time to check in on our soon-to-be-dead heroes!**

… **All-right, fine. Spoil sports.**

 **I hope you can enjoy, and thanks for sticking with me.**

 **Chapter** **14:**

9:24 A.M., December 28th: London: St. George's Cathedral Front Lawn

 _I know this Kamijou-san hasn't always been perfect… But why is the afterlife just full of ringing and pain? Maybe I really did piss off one too many Gods…_ The boy shook his head groggily, realizing gratefully he still had a head to shake.

Slowly the world resolved into focus, and he discovered no Heaven or Hell he could recognize. Debating if this was a good thing, he struggled to sit up from the cold paving stones. Beside him Mikoto stirred, in hardly better condition, but to their shock neither bore a scratch.

The ringing subsided, and they saw its cause was a monumental crash of blade on blade. For standing in a shallow crater, crossing swords with Joan of Arc, was a second Saint.

Her long blade was caught on the enemy's hilt, and though their two edges ground noisily together neither budged even a fraction. The two locked eyes, sizing the other up: over a foot shorter, Joan of Arc gazed upwards in wonderment as she met her new challenger.

"I pray to heaven, and an Angel falls from on high…? And how striking… Thank you Lord, for blessing me with such a wonderful foe! Please, my lady, I must know your name!"

Though her stern look remained, the former head of the Amakusan Church spared a moment for her foe's curiosity. "I am Kanzaki Kaori. I will be your opponent now."

Joan's face lit up. "Ah, what a beautiful name. Hard and firm, yet possessing grace and, ah, individuality! Much like yourself, I gather, from your remarkable entrance."

The description knocked Kanzaki further off-balance, but she refocused. "…I will not let you strike hi- T-them down, even if you are Joan of Arc, Maid of Orleans."

The shorter Saint gasped, a blush rising to her cheeks. "And you already know my name!? Oh, I've made such a botch of this introduction, I, I don't know what to say!"

Kanzaki's mouth opened, before snapping shut again. "Y-you are fairly well known in this age, for your deeds in France."

"Oh, that little war? Such was nothing, just a skirmish, really, I am certain you have seen worse from the skill you display." One hand lifted up from Joan's sword to brush her hair back behind her ear, and she looked away. "It's good to be modest about such things, isn't it?"

"…I suppose…" The taller Saint stiffened suddenly. "B-but that is neither here nor there! Tell me, why are you attacking St. George's, and striking down innocents?"

"Oh, are they your friends?" Joan swiftly shifted gears. "We were duelling! Honourable combat, for the future of this Cathedral! They accepted my challenge, and faired remarkably well for their handicaps. But, ah, I see you have taken their place, is that right? Please, let it be so!"

"Kamijou-kun…" Kanzaki slowly twisted her head, her stare as iron as her blade.

The boy felt a cold sweat trickle his spine.

"You **agreed**? To **duel** with her? A **Saint**?"

A lie would not save him.

A nod might end him.

He slowly broke into a hesitant smile, and shrugged as carefully as he could.

"…I will chastise you later." She turned back, and the overbearing pressure on his heart eased.

He sighed limply in relief. _Safe! F-for a little while, but safe!_

"…Regardless, I meet your challenge if that is what you want." Kanzaki was back on familiar ground. "As a fellow Saint, I will share my Magic name: you should familiar with the concept. Salvare000: I am the salvation of those who can't be saved. I won't kill you, but I won't let you attack the Cathedral. I will defeat you and rescue everyone without… U-uhm?" She halted as Joan of Arc trembled, unable to meet her opponent face to face any longer. "W-what is… The matter?"

" _Elle est parfait. Vraiment angélique..._ " Their swords drifted apart as the shorter woman stumbled back, a hand raised to hide her lips. " _...Merci, Seigneur notre Dieu, parce que vous êtes bon..._ " She crossed herself, once and then again.

"E-excuse me? Am I… What am I missing, here? Kamijou-kun, did you do something to her?" Kanzaki's composed façade finally shattered. She glanced about for an answer as her opponent clasped her hands in prayer yet again.

"My God."

"A-ah? Misaka, what is it?" Touma glanced over, momentarily distracted from the display.

"I just get the feeling this is horrifyingly familiar, but I'm not sure how..." [1]

Uncertain himself, the boy turned back to the battle in time to catch Kanzaki's response.

"Y-you, ah, seem very pious. Just as I would expect, from the Maid of Orleans...?" Touma had never seen his Saintly comrade so hesitant.

"A-a compliment!?" Joan stepped forth eagerly and Kanzaki darted back, sword flinching upwards. "Oh, goodness, ah, my faith is but a modest thing, truly! B-but I am grateful, on my oath! I am just a simple peasant girl, given tools by God's will to fulfill his plan upon his Earth. That is what Saints are for, is it not?"

"I, ah… A-are we going to duel or not!? I'm getting a little… Confused…"

Joan of Arc's expression finally became firm, and a touch of melancholy lit her starry eyes. "Yes. Our combat. I only wish this were just a sparring match to hone our edges, and not a matter of holy duty. But the Lord has seen fit to set us as enemies this day. You are not deserving of being struck down, yet I must."

"…"

"Alas, I am but a solider. Even as a general, one must bow to necessity. Though I will fight with all my strength for my cause, I will happily admit… I hope your strength carries this day, Kanzaki Kaori. That we might meet in better circumstances. Come, let us fight!"

"Finally, something I understand." Muttering, Kanzaki levelled the long edge of her blade, ready to parry and counter whatever thrust Joan of Arc's readied broadsword would make.

Several meters away Mikoto became distantly aware of a hand on her shoulder. Enthralled by the anticipated duel, it took her a moment to realize she was being dragged away from the fight. "-Hey, wait, hold-! I want to watch!"

Initial attempts to break free failing, she tried to grasp part of the yard's metal fence. But as soon as she did so Imagine Breaker rang out.

 _N-no,_ _that means_ \- The esper twisted with a blush and saw the back of a familiar jacket, as Touma made haste for the outer wall. He was heading away from both the encamping army and the Cathedral itself, fleeing just seconds behind half the remaining Necessarius staff. The other half had gone the opposite direction, leaving just the two combatants in the centre of the field.

"Sorry, Misaka-san, but we've got to go!" Their feet crunched in the deep snow, but it hardly slowed them. "You've never seen a fight between Saints! I'm not going to feel safe again until they're done or we're back in Academy City! Shock me later if you're mad!"

"I-it... It can't be that bad, can it?" Embarrassment warred with curiosity, and she fought to keep her gaze on both the boy's hand and the impending battle.

"Why do you think they're all…?" _Wait, why did the magicians stop running?_

He realized belatedly that they had reached the far wall alone, having passed their allies by. The group had, instead of escaping, stopped and turned back.

"See!? They're watching!" But even as she complained the group raised their arms forwards. The sound of waves crashing against a shore filled the air, underlaying the chanted lyrics of an unfamiliar hymnal.

The walkway exploded.

Wind-blown snow and dirt expanded in a pressurized sphere as if knocked up by a kinetic strike, rushing outwards in a deadly surge.

But before its leading edge could reach Touma and Mikoto, it was deflected upwards by ephemeral ocean waves, one after another, holding back the thunderous storm. Even several large chunks of stone were intercepted and knocked back towards the arena. Though the magicians collectively winced, their spell held.

After a few moments, Touma sighed into the cacophony and lowered his arms. "Thank goodness..."

"…W…." Even with her magnetic senses at full strength, Mikoto make out only a blur of metal lines as their swordplay reached horrifying speeds. She could almost feel the confidence draining out through her unsteady feet. "…W-what happened?"

"They've set up a barrier spell, taping into what remains of St. George's enchantments and based on Britain's natural oceanic defences. It should contain their combat. As long as they don't attack it directly."

"Oh." Mikoto pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"That explains the waves, I guess…" Touma reached up to scratch his neck, but froze. He spun to face the source of the explanation and discovered the Archbishop just behind them. "Wha!? When did you get here!?"

"A Lady has her ways." She flicked her long hair before smiling generously at the boy. "It is good, Kamijou-kun, that you stalled Joan of Arc while we prepared this magical trap. I was aware our own Saint was en route, but one can only fall from an airplane so quickly."

"…" Mikoto's eyes narrowed at the slight. _What am I, chopped liver? I did most of the work!_

"I didn't do a whole lot, really…"

"Yes, a pity that bluff did not work out. I thought it was an admirable attempt."

"!" The esper's tongue caught in her teeth as she bit back a retort. _Damnit, if only that wasn't my fault!_

"I-it wouldn't have mattered much-"

"Regardless, you cut a gallant figure. One again, Necessarius must thank you."

"G-gh!" It took everything Mikoto had to avoid a flare of sparks as she was forced to listen.

The boy absently tugged at his collar. _Man, this jacket really is warm. I'm sweating like a pig and I don't know why!_ "A-a-anway! Ah, w-what now? Can we help her fight?" He turned back to the tempest still raging behind them, trying to hide his growing discomfit.

"We cannot interfere. Especially not you. Imagine Breaker would shatter our defensive spell long enough for the side-effects of their battle to reach my remaining forces. They would be blown away, and the spell could not be restarted at that point." Her tone softened. "But you have no need to fear. Kanzaki Kaori is a match for her, I am certain. And this barrier will hold so long as the traitors do not interfere."

"It looks like all the magicians are still just standing there…" Touma could tell from even this far away that the swirling vortex of the battle didn't register on their starry eyed expressions. They faced it calmly, having recovered from their heat stroke in the chill winter morning. "…Maybe I shoul-" A long and slender arm cut off the boy's attempt to approach.

"Even with their mistress occupied, they would not let you interfere unaccosted, and even the two of you together would be overwhelmed by their obvious coordination. From your last attempt, I gather the will only react to a direct threat. I doubt now they have truly turned to our enemy's cause, yet… I remain puzzled that I cannot discern any mind-altering magic."

"…Ahh! That's it!" Mikoto's shout drew looks as she pounded her palm. "It's a different shape, but I finally remembered! Joan of Arc had stars in her eyes, just like that **..." She trailed off, swallowing. "…L-like The Queen, I mean." [2]

"Who? Queen? Is that a friend of yours, Misaka?"

"Friend!?" She reflexively spat as she said the words, but continued without noticing. "Not likely! She's… W-wait, really?" _Hold on. I remember then talking in the School Garden, and I thought that ***** knew him…_ [3]

"I'm not sure I've ever heard of that Ability…" The boy rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment, a small pain arcing through his skull. "…Who has that, again?"

 _He doesn't remember her? She couldn't have edited his memories, so did he maybe know her before his memory loss? …Honestly, I should just be grateful._ The esper knew it was a petty thought, but couldn't help appreciating the advantage. "She goes to Tokiwadai. She's got a star in each eye, with four points. When she uses her Ability, Mental Out, she can do all sorts of mind control stuff. And when she has control of someone, they gain the same weird look. But this Saint here has eight pointed stars, so it's not quite the same."

 _Now that she mentions it…_ "When I ran up to them earlier, I'm pretty sure the missing magicians all had 8 pointed stars in their eyes, too! But that's not right…" _I feel like something is wrong here._

"You are referring to Academy City's # 5, Mental Out." It was almost a question, the way the Archbishop worded it. Her smile twitched into something more feral, but like a flash she was as composed as ever. "…How interesting a connection. Once again I am relieved we invited you Misaka-san."

Being suddenly appreciated nearly distracted Mikoto, but through her blush her eye lit up. "A-ah, wait! She was doing magic before! But Mental Out's an esper Ability! Even if she's got something different, it's so similar, so it has to be an Ability of some kind!" _I knew it! It's absolutely-_

"Impossible."

The Archbishop's word came down like the law, but Mikoto was firm. "But I swear it's the same Ability, or something real similar! Maybe she's just unusual? A random freak chance or something?"

"No. It is fundamentally impossible for an esper to use magic without risking severe injury: even a Saint would be affected. In fact, as their mana reserves are even greater than a normal human's, the results could be catastrophic. Furthermore, Joan of Arc existed centuries before Academy City."

For a moment all three stood in silence. Until the Archbishop sighed a truly undignified sigh.

"…And yet here we stand! I will admit, though I saw the signs, it is unsettling to see reality unraveling before your very eyes."

"You're saying that WAY too calmly! Reality falling apart is a big deal, please trust me, I know!" Touma's earnest pleas did little to invigorate his host, and Mikoto was lost in thought before she finally snapped her fingers.

"Say, how about Gemstones?"

The Archbishop stiffened. "Pardon me?" She gave the esper a curious glance.

"Gemstomes, natural born ability users. They never went through the Power Curriculum, but still have powers."

"Oh, right: Academy City thought I was one for a little bit." _Wait, so she's a Saint, a Gemstone, AND a magician?_ "…That's just not fair!" Even as Touma pulled at his hair, their host frowned in unmasked annoyance.

"…I had not considered them. 'Gemstones', as they are called now, have not been relevant to magic since its earliest days."

"What do you mean?" Mikoto had thought the question innocent, and so was surprised at the delay.

When the Archbishop did speak, her eyes bored directly into the girl.

"What power do you think it was that the first magicians were jealous of?" [4]

Feeling attacked Mikoto backed away a half-step, but the Archbishop quickly moved on.

"However, I do not think you are correct. Although I have not heard of a Gemstone being trained in magic, my initial guess is that, as if they were a Saint, the result would be even more drastic than if an Esper were using magic." Just as she finished, her eyes glazed over for a moment, but abruptly she smiled brightly. "Ah. Good, your ride has arrived."

"Uhm? Ride?" Touma glanced back into the still ongoing battle. As he did a massive chunk of sod crashed close to his head, and he staggered back. "S-should we really be going?"

"Yes, and you especially. Again, just having Imagine Breaker nearby this barrier is a risk I would rather not take. The wind from their movements alone would see a city block levelled. Now, will you please take this side passage here out onto the street? Ah ah! Sorry, please don't touch the handle, let Misaka-san do it, there you are now."

Meekly the boy nodded, slinking away. Mikoto quickly followed, but as she opened the weathered old door in the Cathedral's outer wall she turned back.

"Oh, do not worry about all this, Misaka-san. I cannot leave St. George in such a state of potential disaster. They could be at this for hours, though I expect it will slow down some time before then." The Archbishop gave a playful wave, before turning back to the battle. "It's as I said. Saints are quite a troublesome thing. Oh, my poor bushes…"

Though she could hardly hear the woman's last words over the tumultuous whirlwind of battle, Mikoto allowed them to pass and slipped through the portal.

As she came out into the street the noise abated. The streets were quiet and empty, save for a horse-drawn carriage and a few cars idling at a nearby light.

The battle was still raging within, but no sign of it escaped to the outside world. A bird flew overhead, coming from the street, but as soon as it reached the wall it abruptly turned around and fled, squawking in panic. _…Must be some special magic on the Cathedral. I could use this for my dorm room, so I can REALLY deal with Kuroko…_ [5]

"Well, we're outside."

"Mmm." Mikoto nodded absently, still staring back.

The boy stretched his arms a second, before shaking his head. "Wait, she didn't explain anything! What are we even doing now?"

"Ah, that's my job." A familiar voice called from down the street, and both turned to see the Tour Guide Girl from the day before leap down from atop her carriage. "Sorry, I was on the phone. Here. Don't drop that."

Touma didn't notice the package she was carrying until it was flung at his chest and he scrambled to grasp it. The girl turned back immediately and waved impatiently over her shoulder, returning to the coachman's bench.

"C'mon, I'm on the clock here. I'm taking you to today's job."

"Job? Taking? Where? Why?" Mikoto floundered on the sidewalk as Touma stepped up to their carriage.

"Don't question it, Misaka. That's just how they do things around here." He struggled to open the door with his elbows as the girl reluctantly approached. "Though I hope we learn something before we get attacked…"

Her forcefully cheerful voice chimed in from above. "You're going to break into a secure facility."

"Ah, thanks. Okay, sounds…" Touma's mind processed that slowly. "…Incredibly illegal! Why are we doing that!?"

"Because someone else is trying to get there first. Now are you going to get in?" Under the impatient tapping of her foot they darted in, and no sooner had they left the ground did the carriage take off.

Touma settled himself as best he could, package bouncing in his lap as they traversed the roughly paved road. As he did he exhaled, falling back weakly. "Such misfortune."

But even as the boy moaned, Mikoto next to him was lost in her own trouble. Though still struggling to latch the door shut, hands fumbling, her mind was elsewhere. Even when she finally finished, she could not stop her fingers from digging into the plush cushions.

Finally she groaned. _All-right, time to be honest. C'mon, girl. Say it._ "I'm…"

"Ah?" Touma paused his wallowing enough to glance over as she struggled.

 _Say it, Mikoto! SAY IT!_ "I'm… I'm Sorry, okay!?" She twisted away from his gaze, feeling her cheeks warm. At first, the boy said nothing but then she heard him shift awkwardly in his seat.

"…Wait, does this mean you're going to zap me again? I'd rather you just not, but I guess I appreciate the warning-"

"No, you Idiot! And put that down!" She slapped away his hand, before leaning away again, blush renewed. "I'm… Sorry, that I- I couldn't stop her. Joan of Arc, I mean.

"Yeah, neither could I. It's a good thing Kanzaki-san showed up when she did."

"No, I… I mean, I talked all big, but-"

"You managed it twice. That's at least three times more than I could have!"

 _…But I wasn't good enough. Does he not get it?_

"I fight people I have no chance against all the time. You just do what feels right and try to make it work. Now, this whole vault thing, THAT's worth worrying about. There are so many things wrong with this situation..."

"… I guess you're right." Next to him Mikoto shuffled, back to fiddling with the door in her embarrassment. "I can't break into a vault."

"Exactly! It's just wrong-"

"The directors would absolutely figure out it was me, after the warning I got yest…" She trailed off under his suddenly dire squint.

"…Are you thinking about how much a Level 5 could steal at once?"

Mikoto reeled back, affronted. "W-what? No, I'm not a crook!"

"So where do you get all those tokens for your Rail-Gun?"

"I win those fair and square! There's no sign saying powers can't be used in the Game Centre!"

"Yes there is, they always have one on the fron-"

"That's CLEARLY about fighting other students while inside! Idiot!" _Please don't remember the tokens aren't supposed to leave the building!_ "Anyway, I'm not planning to steal anything!"

"Actually, you are."

"See? ...Eh...!?" Even as Touma looked to the source of his support he reeled back in terror.

Hovering above the bench across from them was the disembodied head of the Tour Guide Girl, looking monumentally bored. She ignored Mikoto's and Touma's shocked gazes, but eventually tilted her head quizzically. "What? Why'd you stop talking?"

"D-d-don't DO that!" The boy finally worked enough of the kinks out of his tongue to respond. "You scared the crap out of me! Heads aren't supposed to just appear out of nowhere!"

"Ah. I'm just using a simple communication spell, built into the carriage. I guess I could have warned you." It wasn't quite an apology, and Touma crossed his arms in bitter resentment, still frustrated the girl wasn't meeting his eyes.

 _I thought that was a hologram for a second…_ But before Mikoto could sigh she had a sudden thought. "But, who's driving if you're talking down here? This thing have autopilot?"

"Nope, I'm still at the reins. I can't see you clowns in there, but I can project my face and voice. So I've still got my eyes on the road."

"Aah…" Touma nodded knowingly, "But how can you hear us?"

"This baby." She twisted her head and tapped a previously hidden headpiece behind her ear. "It's connected to my phone, and I've got a few wireless microphones set up in there. The Archbishop likes to have recordings of meetings: never know when you need blackmail."

"Hey, aren't there laws against talking on the phone and driving?"

"I haven't seen any about horse-drawn carriages." The girls face grew taut. "Now, are you done criticizing me, or can I explain your task already?"

"Sorry, sorry, please, go on!"

For a moment the girl's head twisted about, and they heard her shuffling on her bench above. "Right, okay. Here's what the papers the Archbishop gave me said. We've figured out what the next artefact for the 12 Days of Christmas prophecy is going to be. One of our agents managed to get a listening spell near some of the enemy's criminal thugs, and they mentioned that their target had already been moved from the Tower of London."

"Hey, really? We were just there yesterday!"

"…Pointless interjection aside, the Archbishop confirms that nothing she saw currently within that building would be relevant to their prophecy spell. This means that whatever the criminals were talking about must have been removed before the holidays."

"Ah, that makes sense…" Mikoto searched her memories a moment. "We didn't look over all the exhibits, but we did miss one big thing, didn't we?" Touma was no help, head shaking in ignorance.

"I'll cut to the chase. We think their next target is going to be at least part of the Crown Jewels of the United Kingdom."

"Ah.' Though Touma was nonplussed, he quickly noticed Mikoto's horror. "Oh, is that really bad?"

"They're kinda important. But ignore that for now." They driver's head carried on, her eyes downcast as she glanced through more invisible notes. "Normally the Tower of London houses the Jewels for public viewing, but once a year, when the exhibit is closed down, they are taken away for inspection and cleaning. They have already been transferred to a secure government facility for the process. That's where you're going."

"We're going to break into a place like that!? Look, can't we just warn them there's a problem? Get them to let us help or something?" Though he tried his well-intentioned pleas regardless, Touma suspected it wouldn't be that simple.

He was right. "Few problems, there. Technically Necessarius agents aren't government employees, and you two definitely aren't. But the kicker is that this place is off the grid. It's sealed up tight underground, and there's just one phone line in: no internet access. Only scheduled calls are answered, and those happen only once a day. So we don't even know if an attack has already begun. We doubt they'd be able to call out if it had, so you two are going in to either protect the Jewels or stop any threats even though we've heard nothing. Clear enough?"

"Not really!" Before Touma could answer Mikoto pushed herself forward. "We can't just break into an ultra-secure government base! We'll look like criminals ourselves!" _And the Board of Directors will let my Dorm Supervisor finish me off for good!_

"Don't worry about that, it's taken care of." She casually dismissed the concern. "Any else?"

"So who are they going to summon?" Touma ignored Mikoto's strangled cries of anguish, and the floating head shook slightly as the other girl shrugged.

"Who knows? Maybe it's tied to a royal family member, or maybe it's the craftsman who made them. They've got a whole list of possible guesses here…" The Tour Guide Girl's head tilted down, as she quickly flipped through several papers.

"Well, maybe-"

"HEY!" He recoiled at their driver's sudden shout, eyes wide as the carriage swerved sharply. But she was looking to her left, as if out the window. "Keep your bleeding eyes on the road! Never seen a horse before!?" After sticking out her tongue, she exhaled sharply. "Sorry, not you guys. Man, I hate using this spell, I keep getting all these strange looks."

"Oh, no, it's oka-" It was Mikoto's turn to be surprised by a sudden outburst.

"No, I'm NOT talking to myself, you stupid git! I don't need your help, so mind your own business!" The whole carriage shook as the Tour Guide Girl waved her fist furiously, and both Touma and Mikoto could hear the sound of rapidly departing feet.

The boy swallowed. "I guess I can see why people are staring…"

"…Do you WANT me to drive this jalopy into the Thames?' Her words held an icy promise. "I'll do it: I should be on holiday right now, and I'm willing to take you guys with me!"

"N-no, no, I meant, ah…!" _Think quick, Kamijou-san: this jacket is warm, but I don't want to test it that much!_ "I-I was just thinking that you're a pretty noticeable girl, that's all!

"E-excuse me?" The carriage jerked to a halt for a light. "Pretty? P-pretty what?"

"And you must look important up there, driving such a fancy carriage in professional and smart clothes, I mean, who wouldn't stare? R-right?"

From the silence that followed, Touma thought he had recovered admirably. But the floating head slowly blushed red.

"I… I'm hanging up!" A hand whipped up to rip her earpiece away, and the whole image quickly faded.

"…What did I say? What did I… Misaka?"

The esper had her back twisted entirely from the boy, sitting cross legged on the seat. When she heard her name a quick burst of sparks warned him away. "…Idiot."

"N-nevermind."

!~~~~~~~~!

The rest of the trip passed in blissless calm.

Within minutes Touma and Mikoto stood with the carriage just outside of a large brick building. The street was bustling, and more than a few curious passerby craned their necks at the unusual sight.

The boy tucked into his hood and made himself as small to avoid their gazes, but froze once he took his bearings.

"N-no… No, it can't be true!" Though he couldn't read the blazing neon sign, he could tell their destination from the storefront displays and long wall of glass double-doors. "Why, why is it always MALLS…"

He fell to his knees, now attracting more stares than the carriage. From its bench came a timid voice.

"It's, ah… Not inside there. It's in the underground. Go through Parking Complex, there's a door..."

When he glanced back over his shoulder, the Tour Guide Girl's face remained hidden as she fidgeted with several papers. He half-raised his hand. "Oh, uhm. Thanks."

"A door? What kinda door?" Mikoto slammed the carriage shut behind her, and clambered part way up to their driver. The girl in question fumbled her load, answering while fighting to tear her notes from the breeze.

"Ah! Ahh, it'll be obvious, 'do not enter signs' and that. Oh, and behind it there should be a really big steel vault door, so look for that."

"Okay, I should be able to detect a vault, but what sort of security are we talking about? Guns? Explosives? Nerve gas? And wait, you still haven't explained how we're not going to get caught doing all this!"

"That's all the boss lady told me! I don't know anything about their defences. But for that last bit, she also said to make sure you open that up before you go anywhere." The Tour Guide Girl gestured weakly at the package Touma still cradled, but as he looked up she quickly straightened.

She snapped her reins, and the horses whinnied. Mikoto leaped clear, but before she and Touma were left alone their chauffeur had one last message.

"And, ah, guys?" Now she was equal parts anxious and embarrassed, unable to meet their eyes. "Don't shoot the messenger. Or courier. O-or the… AGH, DAMN IT, WHATEVER! HI-YAH! YAH!"

The carriage careened down the street in a reckless charge, bouncing wildly upon the curb before sharply turning from sight.

The commotion subsided, the people of London gradually returned to their lives, ignoring the two young teens now standing quietly on the sidewalk.

One looked down at his hands. He could practically feel the dark tendrils seeping through the package's plain brown paper. "…I've got a real bad feeling about this…"

"Oh, don't be a drama queen. Here, lemme see…" She plucked the whole affairs out of his feeble grasp and ripped into the first layer. "Wait, are these clothes? What the Hell…?"

Though paranoid, Touma could not help but peer over Mikoto's shoulder. But he did not see what caused a massive shudder to run down her spine.

In a frenzy she tried to wrap it back up, to reseal Pandora's package. "Oh no. No, no no no no."

"Ah, M-Misaka, what is-"

"I'm, I'm not… They c-can't really expect… In THAT!?"

"Please, Misaka! I'm getting real scared here!"

"Maybe if I just throw it in this rubbish bin… H-hey, what!?"

Her toss was intercepted by Touma, snatching the bundle out of the air. He hit the ground and spun. "What's gotten in to you!? She said it was important, didn't she?"

"Important to burn. Here, give it. Give it!" She snapped forward, and for a second a mad tug-o-war had ensued. The packaging tore as Touma leaped back, dragging the girl with him into an alley.

"Damn it, Misaka, just tell me what it-!"

The strained paper finally shredded and two outfits fell out on his lap.

"Aaagghh!" Mikoto shielded her eyes, stumbling back. "No! No, I won't! I don't even want to think about it!"

"W-what, are these… Costumes?" One bit of fabric was stretched across his lap. "…Denim?"

A small note caught his eye, pinned neatly to scrap of paper stuck under his foot, fluttering pitifully in the wind. He wrenched it free and read it slowly.

And read it once again.

"…Oh." _I wouldn't suppose there ARE any fires handy, by chance… Any convenient way for these to "accidentally" be ruined?_

He looked around, but there would be no pyroclastic salvation. Still seated in the cold alleyway, Touma let his head fall into his hands.

"Such misfortune."

!~~~~~~~~!

In the dim lights of the underground parking garage, Touma struggled to re-read the note that had come with the package. Though it was not fun, it was at least something to distract his mind as he waited.

 _Salutations:_

 _I hope this letter finds you well, and that the outfits packaged with it are to your satisfaction. They were fitted by one of the finest clothiers in The Craftsman's District, and borrow from your disguises worn within Westfield London. They should provide a suitable blind should your operations go public. We are preparing a cover story for your temporary identities, so you will need to wear them upon receipt to ensure our narrative matches your progress. Check your pockets for any necessary equipment for your task, and please refrain from visible abuse of civilians or public property while in character._

 _Sincerely;_

 _Her Eminence Laura Stuart, Archbishop of the Church of England, 0_ _th_ _Division Head._

 _P.S._

 _Sorry about the denim! :P_

The post-script was drawn in a bright pink pen, while the rest was on formally type-faced letterhead. He wasn't sure what to make of the contrast, but the cheeky face was profoundly unsettling.

The door he was guarding rattled lightly.

"…Is anyone out there?"

No one answered the girl's soft question.

"Hey. Hey! Idiot!"

Her harsher whisper jerked the boy alert.

"A-wha… Ah, sorry, what?"

"Is the coast clear?"

"Ah, yeah, it's pretty quiet." The car park's bottom level was conveniently its least used, and though there were still several dozen cars scattered around no owners were in sight. "You can come out now."

Though there was scratching at the women's bathroom door, no Mikoto emerged.

He waited patiently as long as he could.

"Mis-"

"I'm WORKING on it, all right?" He heard a heavy sigh from within. "…Oh, who am I kidding. I can't go out there like this…"

"Misaka, mine is terrible too. But it can't be-"

"It's not that!" He felt the door slam behind his back as she kicked it from within. "W-well, it's not just that. It's a little…"

"…A little…?"

"A little _little_ , all right! Idiot, don't make me spell it out!"

"Misaka, I'm going to be seeing it in-"

"NO YOU WON'T! Close your damn eyes, or gouge 'em out!"

"I can't really fight like that, you kno-"

"STOP BEING RIGHT!"

He knew Mikoto well enough to step away from the door.

It arced briefly with current, its rubber dirt-guard smoking after the assault.

"You're going to set off the fire alarms." He waved the smog away casually. He heard one last long string of muttering from within, before silence.

"…Oh, all right, I'm coming out." The door opened a crack. "I-if you breathe one word, I swear, I'll shock you silly."

"Sure, just do me the same favour, all-right?" He looked down, pulling wryly at his shirt. "Mine must be just as... Bad as…" He trailed off as the bathroom door creaked wide.

Out stepped a vision from Magical Powered Kanamin. [6]

Mikoto was garbed in coordinated attire, all gaudy blues and whites. A short skirt, complete with sequined stars and matching petticoat, shadowed a pair of smooth tights and latex high boots. They clung to the girl's legs as she shuffled out, delicate gloves pulling awkwardly at a denim bustier which pressing a long-sleeved skin-tone undershirt tightly to her accentuated chest. Half hiding her blush was a familiar butterfly mask, but this one was form fitted and sleek, aquiline curves tracing over cheek and nose.

She finally tore her eyes from her feet to see Touma's outfit. Though it was not as coordinated as her, his faded blue jeans, animal hide vest, and bandito bandana screamed every stereotype of the American cowboy. Finishing the picture was a wide brim ten-gallon hat whose mouse ears, discovered to his disgust, were shaped of black denim. The only saving grace of his ensemble was the obvious quality of its construction, but even so he stood sheepishly as his spurred boots jangled lightly.

Their mutual inspection lasted several seconds, until Mikoto snapped.

Specifically, she snapped the plastic wand she had been supplied with, scattering its remains across the underground parking lot.

"That stupid Jean Shop guy! He lives in England and it's in the middle of winter! Stupid ******* is just a bloody letch, next time I see hi-" She trailed off, growing equal parts worried and embarrassed by his steady gaze. "…What is it…?"

Touma stared, slack-jawed and stupid.

"…Yours." He finished lamely, eyes several inches too low.

"…Are you staring at?" She followed his gaze.

He forced his eyes away, beat red and shaking, teeth clamped together.

"W-WHAT'S THAT LOOK FOR!?" Mikoto was torn, eyes darting up again and down again, between the boy and her bust. _AAAAHH! WHATDIDHEDO!? Didhemakethemlookbigger!? ThatJeanShopGuy'snotallbadright!?_

"Nothing! Not a thing! Let's go!" The boy leapt out into the parking lot, full of manic energy. "All-right! TIME TO ROB A-"

A tremendous honk blew away his hearing.

Stunned, Touma half-turned.

"V-vault?"

He stood lamely as a large truck barrelled down the access ramp, its headlights sweeping towards him.

It tried to slow, but had too much inertia. There was no time to dodge.

So the boy was surprised when his feet whipped out from under him.

He found himself being dragged by his heels out of the way. The truck trundled past him, brakes screeching as it slid to a halt.

"What the Hell was that!?"

"I don't know, did we hit somebody!? Crap, that's not part of the plan!"

Two heads peered out from each window, but there was nothing to see. No body, no bloodstains, and most importantly no witnesses.

"…Oi, you think this place is haunted?"

"J-just pull up to the door, man. I don't want to think about it."

The truck roared back to life, and slowly pulled away.

In a nearby bathroom, two voices sighed in unison as they fell back against the bathroom wall.

But the first was more depressed than relieved. "Great. Now I'm in the women's restroom. If someone finds us here together, I'll have the worst mug shot of all time after I'm arrested. At least you ripped off these annoying metal things…" He clattered the now useless spurs together, but felt a warm hand over his mouth, pressing him against the wall.

"Can you pipe down?" Mikoto whispered harshly, "They're getting out." She leaned forward, inching the door open to spy more clearly.

"Mmmph!" He fought weakly against the girl's grip, but even that quickly subsided. "Mmm… Mph?" _Why… Does she smell… Nice?_ His eyes widened. _Why am I thinking that!?_ He forced himself to blink, clearing his mind. _That costume must have really confused me. For a second there, I thought Misaka was…_

His thoughts were disjointed by a dangerous crackling. With split second timing Imagine Breaker reached out and caught hold of her wrist, and forming sparks faded. He shifted his head as far as it would go, to try and catch sight of his partner's face.

Though she was kneeling, almost crawling on the dirty bathroom floor, her knees shook not with disgust but horrified embarrassment. Even after the high pitched keening in her mind subsided her thoughts remained a-whirl.

 _OhgodI'mtouchinghisfaceandhe'snotdoinganythingwhatdoIdoisthisokayTHINKMikotoTHINK-_

"U-uhm. Misaka, why are you muttering to yourself?" He mumbled gingerly around her hand, caught in a cage with the tiger. "Didn't you… Say we should be quiet?"

 _"SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP._ " _AGGGHH Don't talk with my hand there!_ The sensation through her soft gloves was too much to bear, but it was just as hard to move it away.

The stalemate might have lasted hours had the earth not gently rumbled.

Though it quickly stopped, it was enough to break the spell. Mikoto removed her hand to steady her precarious self and Touma seized the chance to break free and scurry up to the door for a look.

The truck had stopped facing a featureless slab of wall, like any other. But this slab of wall was slowly sinking into the floor.

It completed the motion with hardly a sound and revealed a dark tunnel.

As the truck disappeared within, Touma murmured aloud, "…So that's where the entrance was."

"I-It's a good thing…" Mikoto nodded slowly, self-consciously rubbing her hand as she recovered from her ordeal. "That wall must be really thick, I can't sense through it from here. I'm not sure how fast I could have found it."

"Hey, it's closing! C'mon, we'll be…?" Though he made to dart from their cover he hesitated at her voice.

"Wait a second! I, ah… W-wait for them to pull ahead, so they don't see us…"

He watched as the wall raised higher and higher. "Can we get back in there if we wait?"

"I think so, now that I know where it is."

"Ah. Yeah, right then."

They watched the wall finally lodge back into place: the rumbling lasted a second, and then the underground parking lot was just like any other.

"…Well?"

"Ah, after you."

Though the pair carefully left the women's restroom it was needless: the parking lot remained empty of shoppers.

It was the work of a moment to bundle up their old clothes, carefully wrapped in the paper from their costumes. It was a further few seconds for Mikoto to rip metal strips from a nearby guard-rail and pinion the bundles to a concrete ceiling beam above. Touma nodded sharply.

"Good. The rest of those are cheap, but I don't want to lose that coat." The girl was silent. "…Misaka, something wrong?"

Her discomfort was written plain on her face. "I'm just really not looking forward to this. This could be such a disaster… All it takes is one surveillance camera I miss, and Academy City has blackmail over me for life."

He scratched his cheek a moment, and hastily redid the knot of his bandana as it fell loose. "I'm pretty sure you've annoyed them plenty already, so how is this any worse?"

"Oh, it's not breaking in," She waved dismissively, "It's about this… Disguise."

"Really? But it's cute. You like cute things, right?"

"It's about being seen wearing it, you Idiot, not about whether or not I like…" Her words trailed off, tangling on her tongue. "Huh-wha?"

"Anyway, I wouldn't worry about it too much. I've resigned myself to humiliation in the past. At least this time the point of it is to remain anonymous, if things go well."

 _…I must have been hearing things. Get a grip, girl!_ Mikoto shook her head, fighting back a pointless blush. "A-ah, but what if we get discovered? And everyone we know finds out we were out, gallivanting around, looking like this?"

The boy looked down at his vest, finger moving from cheek to chin. _Yeah, Aogami and Tsuchimikado would never let this go, would they?_ Finally he shrugged. "Ritual suicide?"

She chuckled, grinning lightly as the last bit of tension eased from her. "Agreed." _But if anyone from Academy City catches wind of this, I'll really just die._ "Let's just go already."

With that the girl closed her eyes, placed her hands on the wall, and extended her powers to their fullest. Magnetic waves passed through several inches of reinforced concrete into the wall and floor. "I could probably just blow through this, but… If I can just find the..." At once she came upon her target, and Touma felt the ground rumble lightly. "There we go! Got the motors running."

Sure enough, the great section of wall began to slide down into the floor. But as she worked, Touma watched the girl begin to strain.

"Ah… What's wrong? Is it fighting you?"

Though loathe to acknowledge it, the girl felt her breathing grow ragged. "No, I've got this… It's just not easy… Powering an engine through all this… And there's nothing magnetic in the door…" _And I'm more than a little drained from Joan, damn it all._

Despite her fears Mikoto was true to her word, and eventually the door slid neatly into the ground. As she stood up sight, Touma leaned past her to peer into the darkness.

"Quieter than a Rail-gun would be…"

"Phew… And I CAN be sneaky, you know." The sparks around her fingers died down as she picked herself up from the floor where she knelt, having followed the wall on its journey down. "I don't think that would trigger any warning they would have. We should be safe to go."

"Great, nice work."

Silence descended on the pair.

Both realized neither wanted to risk being seen any more than the other, but Mikoto reacted faster.

"Y-you first, of course!"

"Uhm… L-ladies first?"

"Age before beauty?"

 _If I say "women and children" now I'll die, so…_ "Kh, damn it… Well, all-right! Make the best of it! Kamijou-san rides to glory!" He raised one fist with dramatic flair and stomped off into the descending tunnel, while she hurriedly attempted to re-elevate the door.

"Don't shout Idiot, it echoes! And please don't make this more embarrassing that it needs to be…"

Soon the wall closed behind them, and the underground parking lot was quiet once more.

!~~~~~~~~!

"I really don't like how dark it is here…" The tunnel's concrete walls were rough under his fingers as Touma slid his hand along one side for guidance. They had been that way for the several minutes, as Touma and Mikoto followed the gentle slope down, becoming lost in an inky blackness.

"Eh? What's w…" _Oh. He can't just feel out the iron reinforcements. Right._ She pressed on to avoid thinking about it. "Ah, I guess they just rely on their headlights, huh?"

"…Or their magnetic powers."

She stumbled. "W-what's that…!"

"Oh, no, nothing." He muttered under his breath. "It's just such a good thing I never have bad luck, because who knows what could happen in a pitch-dark tunnel deep underground, possibly invaded by ancient magicians and criminals and security. You know."

Though she could not see his face she could picture his mocking expression. _I'm almost annoyed enough to provide a little lightning just for you… But…_

He heard her footsteps pause, and he did the same lest he lose her in the dark.

What he did not expect was to feel her fingertips brush his.

He flew forward in a panic, landing hard on his face.

"Hey, what- Are you okay?" The esper doubled back a step. _Is he really THAT clumsy!?_ "What are you doing?"

"What are YOU doing!?" The boy clutched at his beating heart, grateful it had not stopped entirely. "You scared the crap out of me, attacking me down here! You're going to give me a heart attack!"

"Attacking!?" Though affronted, she shook off the feeling and extended her hand yet again. "I-I was offering to lead you, Idiot! You're blind down her, right, so, just, take it already, okay!?"

"…Take what?"

 _Damn it!_ "My hand! Aagh, look, just get over to the wall…"

After much groping about in the darkness, the two finally switched their formation and Touma found himself at the rear. He fidgeted while he waited.

 _This is what she wanted, but she couldn't really… There's no way she would-!_

This time he only flinched a little when her hand tentatively slid back and found his.

 _Oh God_ _I regret this already! But, at least I'm wearing gloves… And there's no better excuse than this, right!?_

Steeling herself, and ignoring the blush on her cheeks, the girl felt his hand slide into her palm.

His grip was at once rough and gentle. She could feel unsuspected callouses through the thin fabric between them, but he held her with a careful firmness. She felt him pull back just a moment, but he quickly rallied. But above all else, it was the warmth of his touch that broke her.

She shuddered hard, swallowing. _The gloves don't help the gloves don't help_ _the gloves don't help_ _!_

Touma felt the vibration running up his arm, and could tell they weren't moving. For a moment, his heart sunk. _Man, I can't catch a break._ _I guess it really is too hard to hold hands with a guy like me, even when it's important like this. ...Well, time to man up!_ "Misaka, it's okay if-"

"J-j-just hold on! Hold on, okay!?" _Why can't I see anything? I can't be THAT nervous!_ But try as she might her powers failed her and remained blind, panic growing as the seconds ticked past.

Though he did his best to keep still, Touma's hand kept twitching distractingly in her own, until she finally realized.

She spun on him, and he was pulled close by the movement. Close enough to feel her warmth in the chill underground.

"Did you give me your right hand?"

He glanced down, blinking in the darkness. "…Yeah?"

"Why'd you do that!?" Though her shout hurt his ears, he didn't pull free.

"But if I give you the other one-"

"I'm NOT going to SHOCK you!"

The sound of her cry echoed back to them, and they froze.

"…Ssh."

"-that was you though-"

"SSSH!"

Silently they exchanged hands, and though he was awkwardly forced out in the open floor they made progress.

They were eventually surprised to hear a distantly rumbling engine. Moments later, they realized the slope curved gently. Once it had been rounded they saw the distant taillights of an idling vehicle sitting in the dim glow of a security checkpoint. It was a small booth guarding a massive metal door, two stories tall and barred with huge steel columns in a checker-board grid.

 _Really? That's big, even for me. I guess when you're not Academy City, all you can do is go big._ Mikoto sighed, but focused on the first problem. "That truck again? But they were so far ahead…" _They better not see us. I wonder if I can erase their memories with a strong enough shock…_

"Well, they seem to be stuck, so let's keep going."

Reluctantly the girl nodded, and as they approached its fender to the sound of arguing voices.

"Agh, damn it! Why does this guard have to be so slow? Look, here! See!?" One arms was reaching through the cabin's window, casting a violent shadow as it waved. "I've got the badge! The BADGE! So stop asking for it and let us in already! The Shark is waiting inside, you hear!? You know, our boss!?"

There was no response at first, but then a strange voice spoke.

" **Present your camp pass."**

"AAAGH, not again! You stupid *******!" The arm retracted amid more scattered swearing. "I can't believe it! If the Shark finds out that I couldn't get past the front door after we had the bloody guards turned, he'll do more than just gut me when this heist is done!"

As the truck driver lamented, a second voice piped up from the vehicle's other side. "Maybe just give it to him?"

"Are you mental!? We still need this badge for the other access panels!"

"Ask for it back?"

"What a load of…" The arm extended again. "All right, look here-"

" **Present your-** "

"Shut it! Fine, have the damn thing! Just please, give it back!?" A touch of desperation entered the driver's tone as he almost threw his badge through the small post's window.

There were several long seconds of silence.

Suddenly the massive vault groaned, and the steel bars retracted one by one. As they spun the guard extended his own arm in turn spoke again, in that same mechanical tone.

" **Obey the Lady's peace, or suffer the consequences.** "

"R-right, right, sure. Aah, thank you." Gingerly the driver took the proffered badge, muttering under his breath. "******* weird, man. I don't like whatever drug this guy is on to make him so stiff… This whole operation stinks to high heaven."

"Can we just go? This is freaking me out." The engine roared into life, and the truck rolled up a ramp and through the barrier.

 _Now's our chance!_ The light was good enough for the boy to see his opening, and he cut in front of Mikoto.

But she didn't let go of his hand, and yanked him back as he yelped.

" _Wait!_ " She whispered loudly, eyes half-focused. "Don't go. There's too much security."

"What do you mean? We can just crawl past the guards and get in!" The vault door was already closing again, but his disappointment faded as she explained.

"No, you can't see. But there, there, and across the hall, they've got tons of sensors set up. Infrared and ultraviolet: if you tried to sneak through you'd be spotted for sure. And if you haven't noticed, not only are they tied to an emergency shutdown function on the gate, but also those turret emplacements there, there, and there. I can fool the system for me, by redirecting their electromagnetic pulses, but their systems are shielded so I can't just erase us completely from their records if we're caught.

Much of that blew over his head. _Just like when I'm with magicians. Oh boy._ "So, that all means…?"

"Means I can get past, but you wait here."

"Right! Exactly, of course- Wait, _turrets!?_ " The boy looked up and saw, in the corners of the door and just above it centrally were three featureless spheres, a thin line running down they centre. To his mind they promised to open up at any moment and spray hot death into would-be criminals.

"Relax, they're not a problem. Even if they can see me, I can take a few assault weapons. Plus they only track for the area beyond the security post. Just don't cross that line there until I give the signal. That post has an override that will shut down all access if the guard hits a panic button or triggers the defences."

Sure enough, he saw the yellow and black warning tape pressed into the hard concrete, but was unconvinced. "Is this a good plan? Don't we need a distraction or something?"

"Are you kidding me? There's no bank vault on Earth I can't get into. But I want to do it without getting caught, so we're taking a roundabout route."

"…You're really getting into this, aren't you?"

"I just! I don't want to be seen, okay!? Now _YOU_ stay here while _I_ sneak past and try to access their system remotely, I think there's an access point on the other side. I'd rather not shock him, in case there are security check in's, but you'll know if I have to." Though smugly revelling in her obvious usefulness, some else was tugging the girl forward. _I want to check something. Lone Ranger over there might not understand English, but to me that guard sounded… Strange._

The esper turned her back to him just as Touma pulled himself together. "Right. Well, uh… Be car…" He saw her freeze and hesitated. "Aah, never-mind." _Guess I offended her... Geez. Just wish I could be more helpful._

Mikoto spent a second recollecting her thoughts, but soon she pressed on. Touma watched her move up to, and then just under, the security window.

She made almost no sound, thin frame lightly balanced on the toes of her unfamiliar boots.

One touched down just past the warning line.

 **"Present your camp pass."**

!~~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes:**_

[1] You have no idea how much I giggled when I finally got to write this bit. I actually only came up with the idea recently, but once I started planning their banter I thought of this. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, it'll get more obvious before the day is done. And for those historians out there noting how chaste Joan of Arc was recorded as being, remember that history back then was written by men. Also, this is Rail-Dex, this sort of stuff is completely par for the course.

[2] Okay, so it's never been directly stated that the reason Shokuhou Misaki has stars in her eyes is connected to her ability. After all, she said she was born with them. However, I posit two facts. 1) The girl is likely an unreliable source of her own history, being a manipulator at heart. 2) Everything in this universe is basically madness anyway, so why not make weird eyes a theme for certain varieties of mind-control? It's no less plausible than Thor's trick of moving the world around to make himself faster.

Personally, I think that Shokukou's eyes are merely a convenient way for the author to cripple her potential (with the best of intentions). After all, if you can notice that effect you can tell who she has control over. Someday a canon explanation may come but I like the idea that the universe itself, whether through some physics explanation or pure authorial diktat, hamstrings mind-controller's in this way. For this story, assume the latte is true: we're veering ever more AU folks. But I'll be keeping the reins on as much as possible.

[3] See NT 6 for details. Also, thank you to the guest who pointed out that Touma could not remember Misaki: I remember that, but didn't make it clear what I meant last chapter when Touma "recognized the stars". I was trying to be clever by paralleling Mikoto noticing the eyes just then with his realizing what he saw in the eyes of the missing magicians. Of course, the subsequent blast distracted them for a bit, but that's not the point. I should have been clearer then what I meant, because he did not recognize them the same was Mikoto did. (Parallelism is hard, man.)

[4] Remember this bit. It'll come up again later.

[5] There's no magician around to explain it, so I'll touch on this more in detail here. All Joan did was knock down the front doors: a fortress like St. George's must have multiple redundant spells. And what better magic to keep magic on the down-low than something the blocks activities within from being noticed by the outside world? I can make up some crazy religious symbolism if someone cares, but I don't feel the need to write that much right now. This day might run long as it is!

[6] The sometimes-mentioned generic-popular-anime of the Rail-Dex world.


	46. Part 2: Chapter 15

**Welcome back. I hope the current mix of plot and character development isn't leaning too heavily one way or the other some people. I'm trying to keep a balance, but I also hope that the main character's thoughts and interactions are visibly changing. I've tried to show a realistic amount of growth, given that several action-packed days have passed and they are getting much more comfortable with each other. Yet at the same time, there is only so much one can do to overcome a problem so quickly: a catalyst is needed for any real evolution.**

 **Hence, this roundabout story. Please excuse the slow pace, but I guarantee that by the end of Book Two of this trilogy, things are going to accelerate pretty fast. I hope you can make it until then.**

 **Also, belated thanks, Malandy, for catching those typos a chapter or so back. Curses, but thanks: it's appreciated.** (And in this one! Double curses!)

 **Chapter 15**

10:16 A.M., December 28th: London: An Underground Facility

Electricity racing through her veins, Mikoto launched upright to attack. _No idea how they caught me, but time for plan-_

Imagine Breaker rang out as she collided with it, and it knocked her unceremoniously back down. Her cry of surprise was cut off by Touma as he stumbled between her and the guard post.

"U-uh…" Haltingly he raised his left hand. "…Hello!? H-how's it going!?"

His strangled laughter died pitifully as the first guard looked up. If before he were somehow tracking Mikoto, unseen beneath his view, his starry eyes now locked stiffly onto the boy.

There were two more behind him, just as calmly collected. And all three held pistols, aimed steadily at his nose.

They spoke as one. " **Present your camp pass.** "

"Uhm… Misaka," Too paralyzed to look away, Touma whispered from the corner of his mouth, "What's he saying?"

 _Are you kidding me? How is THIS working?_ Still fighting against the boy's restraining hand Mikoto clambered up high enough to study the guard's expression.

They ignored her completely to focus on Touma, so she easily made out the not-quite familiar 8-pointed stars in their eyes. It was as if Misaki's 4-pointed version was overlaid upon itself, and she shuddered at the possibility of twice as much Mental Out. [1]

But if nothing else it confirmed her suspicions. _"_ I knew it! It is possible!"

"…M-Misaka!?"

… _Oh, right! He asked a question!_ "Ah, he wants an entry pass of some kind."

She knew she should be fully visible now, her attempts to fool the security ruined by Imagine Breaker. But despite their obvious failed break in, the guard's face never registered the strangeness of the intruders.

Instead he mechanically flicked off the safety of his gun as Touma recoiled and spoke again.

" **Present your camp pass, or suffer the consequences.** "

 _Crap! All-right, improvise!_ Frantically the boy rifled through his pockets, lifting his hand from Mikoto. "So uh, here, look, I've got it, right here! Don't shoot!" His right hand extended, something unfamiliar clutched within his palm.

Without breaking their staring contest the first guard reached out for Touma's offering.

In the long second the followed the epser felt her heart pound, every instinct demanding she rip the guns from their hands to protect him. But look of surprise, not fear, on his face made her hesitate.

" **…** **Obey the Lady's peace, or suffer the consequences."**

And impossibly the vault began to open.

Once Mikoto finished gaping at that she straightened in time to see Touma gingerly reaching out to the guard. To retrieve the badge he had found nestled in the pockets of his faded jeans, as per the note's cryptic instructions.

But his thumb brushed the other man's hand along the way.

Imagine Breaker rang out, and the starry eyes vanished. For a moment the guard swayed on his feet, pistol drooping in his grasp. Eventually his slack jaw tightened.

"Ggah… W-wha?" Shaking his head, he looked down to gun, and then up to the two masked intruders. Though his training screamed at him to slam his panic button he merely gazed at them vacantly, while his colleagues stared at him with similar expression.

Touma waved once again, smiling awkwardly behind his bandana.

"Who're… Is it Halloween already?"

The girl pointed a finger and all three guards collapsed under a sudden burst of electricity.

As he slid to the floor carefully balanced fields of magnetism caught and dismantled his gun. But Mikoto had no more time than that before the world pivoted and her powers failed her.

Though she shouted in protest she remained firmly hoisted by Touma, bucking wildly as he sprinted for the vault. It had already cycled through half of its automated process, and the big door was swinging shut.

In one mighty toss he propelled the shocked girl through the last crack, leaping in after her. Though he landed hard on his back, he raised both hands high once he stopped skidding along the concrete floor.

"Yes! Made it! Phew..." He sat up to dust himself off. "Quick thinking on shocking them. I didn't consider that they were under Joan's Abil… Misaka, why are you staring at me with such hurtful eyes?"

"They're not-Aagh, I-Idiot! I never got access to the system! What do you think I was waiting there so long for!?" She kept her frustration to a simmer, only sparking lightly as she hurriedly searched the second tunnel they'd entered today. "I don't see any computers on this side, do you?

Touma was forced to agree as he scanned the featureless passage. "No… Is that bad?" His worries grew as he watched her walk to the door and place a hand upon it.

"…I don't think I can move this. Not without a lot of time and the whole thing getting wrecked. I'd be found out for sure…" She grimaced as it became clear the vault door was far larger than it looked: several hundred tonnes of steel extended up and down into the bedrock in all directions to secure it beyond any reasonable attack. "I'm a little tired to just brute-force it right now, and there's no way onto the system that opens it from here. I can't send any sort of field through this, it's all outside."

"…So we're trapped?"

"I wouldn't say that-"

"DAAAMMNN IITTT!" Though he had barely regained his feet the boy fell to his knees. "I thought I was being so cool, but instead I've sent us to an early grave!?"

"Quiet down! I'm sure there's another way out, right? There has to be, for employees." _I think._ "And if I rest for a bit I'm sure I can do it. Don't be so dramatic, I'm going ahead."

"You don't get it. You can have a flashy entrance whenever you want, all 'biri-biri' like." He made little motions with his fingers as he sullenly followed her back. "I never get to do that without it going horribly wrong. Hey, speaking of 'biri-biri', are those guards going to be okay?"

Though annoyed by the reminders of her hated nickname, his implication upset Mikoto more. "That wasn't part of the plan, alright!? Just be glad they didn't lock us out. And besides, I used less amperage than I normally do on you. They'll wake up." _But I'll regret that if anyone remembers this..._

"That's not reassuring in many ways."

"Oh come ON already!" Refusing to dwell on it she pushed ahead, deeper into the facility. "Fine, I'll take the lead again. It's bright enough, for you… Now… R-right?" The memory of his hand in hers slowed her to Touma's pace.

At least until the boy stopped dead. And for once, it was his left hand that he scrutinized before sighing. _I guess she's relieved to not have to hold my hand anymore, huh? Can't say I blame her. It was more than a little… Interesting for me, too._ _Probably not the same reason, though._ "...Yeah, let's go."

Touma was forced to jog to catch up, and he soon closely followed her march down the tunnel. The road was just as before, but this time it was lit from the floor by bright fluorescent strips. Though he could easily keep up, he was soon surprised by her haste.

"Misaka, what's the rush? We know how far the criminals have gone…" Touma rearranged his bandana, as it slipped from his nose. "They just broke in a few minutes ago, right, so for once I don't have to hurry somewhere. I'd like to enjoy not having to worry, it's still early."

"You really need to learn English." Though the string of her mask pinned some down, her hair still shuffled as she shook her head sadly. "The guys on the truck made it sound like there were others already inside."

"And now I'm worried."

"You're such a-" But a sudden uproar in the distance made them both jump.

There was nowhere to hide in the long tunnel, unremarkable and just barely wide enough for the truck to have fit through ahead of them. They pressed to the wall, but anyone happening to stroll past its mouth just up ahead would see them instantly.

But the shouting grew no louder and no quieter. No one was approaching or raising an alarm. Emboldened, Touma and Mikoto crept forward.

They stopped just short of a new room, a shipping bay of some sort. It was spacious: enough for two trucks to back up to a loading dock on the room's left side. The other three walls displayed nothing but bland concrete, save for the single access tunnel they occupied. Mikoto's head first, followed just above by Touma's, peered around the corner.

On the dock a commotion brewed, and Mikoto recognized the angry shout of the truck driver.

"I don't care that we're late, it's YOUR job to move the gear up!"

"Not a chance, numb-nuts." A short burly man in full combat gear stated simply as he ignored the argument. "I bring the gear up this late, and the Shark ain't gonna give me time to explain how it's all your fault. YOU two bring it."

"Just blame the hostages!" The passenger gestured, and for the first time the teens saw that there was a group of security officers and loading crew in a corner, trussed up and under armed guard. "Say they caused a stink or something, I'll even help you rough them up a little more!"

"Say, that's a good idea. I'll back you up if the Shark asks me what happened after YOU tell him that." The man shrugged a little, night-vision goggles on his head jostling.

"Mother… Fine, wise-***. But this ain't over." Scowls visible to even the Touma and Mikoto, the driver and his partner grabbed hold of a large charge and disappeared into an adjoining through a large set of swinging door.

"Sure it ain't." As soon as they had gone the man they had argued with jabbed at them with his thumb, smiling hugely under his helmet. "Get a load, huh?" He shared a chuckle with his remaining comrades. The five additional men were equally armed and armoured, holding everything from machine guns to a grenade launcher.

But neither Mikoto nor Touma paid them much mind. "Damn it. Hostages? And some of them look hurt." The boy had to squint, but he could see the signs of a short battle. No one looked seriously injured, but there were scattered bullet holes in the wall and some small sprays of blood.

"We've got to help them, but…" _I don't want them to see me like this. Still, I can't shock innocent hostages unconscious. Not only is that wrong, but he'd think I was some sort of socio… Hmm?_ _Where'd he…_

Touma's presence behind her had shifted, and she discovered to her horror that he had stepped out into the open. It was such a casual entrance that both guards on watch merely glanced at him before returning to their chatter. It took several seconds for one to abruptly realize there was a problem.

"W-whoa! ****, don't move!" Within seconds an impressive array of weaponry was levelled at Touma, and though he flinched he merely raised his hands. "We'll blow you away, you so much as blink!"

"Let them go. There's no need to hurt anyone." Ignorant of the explicity warning the boy gestured one finger towards the group of huddled security workers. Those still awake gawked behind gags, marvelling at their possible salvation.

The standoff lasted a tense moment, until the leader spoke up.

"…He speaking Japanese? And why's he dressed up like that?"

"Anybody watch the news yesterday? I remember… Something like this…"

Their leader ignored his subordinate's comment. "Screw it. Yo, Mike, you like that Anime ****. What's he jabbering about?"

A thinner man jerked alert, but eventually just shrugged. "It's about the hostages or something."

"Well, **** yeah, he's pointing right at them!"

A new voice interjected.

"He said 'Let them go, or you'll be shocked silly.'"

"Oh, is that so!" The leader's eyes narrowed. "Well, how about we shock him a lit…" He frowned.

And realized too late that no member of his squad was a young girl with an accent.

Their guns wrenched from their hands in an instant, flying up to ceiling as holsters and straps snapped as a brief surge of lightning jumped from criminal to criminal, sending them twitching to floor.

"There." Mikoto leapt down from atop the second truck hood, where she had snuck to in the confusion. "And now it's YOUR turn, Idiot!"

"Wait, wait! I can explain!"

"What were you thinking!?" Her finger jabbed at his vested chest. "How many times are you going to run in front of a gun like that before you figure it out!? I overlooked it last time because you were prote... A-anyway- HEY! Don't walk away, I'm yelling at you!"

But rather than take the criticism Touma quickly spun away, surprising the girl. He stepped to the prisoners, flinching as he neared, but soon he was working at the ropes that tied them together.

"Sorry, but, it worked last time, right? And I figured you'd do something, I couldn't stand by and let them be in any more danger, some of them look in serious pain." He refused to meet her eyes, distractedly unbinding their restraints. _I hate that it's gotten to the point where I rely on her like this, but serious times call for stupid ideas._ "Thanks for reacting fast."

His appreciation dampened her tirade. "A-a-ah… W-well, next time WARN me! Something, anything! Sheesh, I can do a lot, but not read minds." _One minute he's a coward, the next he's as brazen as anything! I mean, I like saving him and then getting mad after, but I don't like the thought… Of him being so stupid!_

He freed the first few as they rubbed at their wrists and began to help others. Soon the entire contingent was loose, either performing first-aid or securing the still prone criminals.

One portly older gentleman with a luxurious moustache approached Touma and Mikoto as they argued.

"Uhm, pardon me. Are you two supposed to be here?" When they froze, he tried again in his thick English accent. "You _do_ speak English, I trust?"

"I do." Mikoto piped up, but immediately regretted it. _DAMN it, how is this being subtle!?_ She squirmed under the newcomers stolid gaze.

"Ah, wonderful. Now, might I trouble you as to how you got in here? Even if we're not under override lockdown, there's no way… Who would let you two…" He gave them a long once-over. "…Nice kids inside here?"

"We were, ah, sent by the English government."

"…Riiiight, and can you prove that? Not that we're not grateful for the assistance, no, rather the contrary. But you know, protocol and such. One can't be too careful. As today so pointedly illustrates."

"Er…" Inspiration struck, and Mikoto switched back to Japanese. "Hey, that badge. Show him that badge!"

"What, this?" Touma thrust it forward, speaking over the shoulder of the man reviewing it with exaggerated incredulity. "Oh, tell him we're here to stop the theft of the whatsits, the 'Crown Jewels' or whatever."

Despite Touma's broken English, the guard perked up. "Crown Jewels? So that's what they're after?"

Mikoto nodded hesitantly. "Uhm, yes, sir, t-"

"Of course it'd be _them_ , no criminal has any originality these days." The man shook his head, somehow diverted from his strange benefactors, waving his arms dramatically. "We have millions of pounds sterling in other perfectly good gemstones and jewellery, ancient sets of rings and swords, but _noooo_ , all we ever hear about are the Crown Jewels!"

Unsure how to respond, Mikoto merely kept up her polite if strained smile.

"But hold on a spot. I swear, you two look like something straight from the pages of a comic book. You two mites simply cannot be government agents, despite what his badge says your clearance is. And speaking of that, what is this '0th division' it mentions? I've never heard of that department…"

"No, really! It's…" She wracked her brain for a plausible answer. "Really top secret."

"is that so? I can't believe… I thought my clearance was rather high." He digested that explanation before breaking out into a childish grin. "…Goodness, this is all rather 'cool', isn't it? I do enjoy me some spy drama, OO7 and all that, very snazzy. I suppose that might fit with that lightning gadget or whatsit you've gotten hidden about you, but to be so young-"

"It's TOP Secret! Very secret technology, you must not say anything!" Mikoto pressed forward, sending the man reeling back under the assault.

"Right, of course! Say no more, I know all about that! But if you're really here to help, I can give you, what do they say, ah, 'the sit rep' as it were." He gestured around him, and for once the grim state of affairs bled through his calm mask. "As you can see, we're pretty much bollixed down here. Somehow these blokes got through the outer guards with nary an alarm. We _thought_ this first truck was just a scheduled shipment, so imagine our surprise when about 30 chaps popped out with military grade hardware!

"Even then we should have been able to hold fast with our automated defences, but with impeccably poor timing maintenance cycled the power leaving us blind and shutting all manner of things down. They could see with their night-vision equipment, we were overpowered, and pretty soon they had the run of this entire zone."

"So where did they go?" Mikoto followed his point through the same double doors that the truck driver had been let through. Yet as the man directed her, he shrugged.

"But we can't follow, I'm afraid. I'm crew manager for the Loading zone, and my badge is the only one this department that can open up to the other wings: security measures, you know. They took that, let in most of their crew except these blighters here." He gave one a light kick, frowning when the comatose body didn't respond. "They left the badge with a couple of fellows who took second truck back out. That was almost an hour ago, and you saw them just return, I'd suppose. And that about sums up my intel, so much as it is. Just wish I knew how they got in in the first place..."

"All right, thanks for the help."

"Absolutely, it is my pleasure. Now, if you two will kindly follow me, I can get us into the security bunker and we can all wait out this in safety with a warm cup of… Uhumm?" He looked back to the girl but he only saw her back. She and Touma both were already heading for the door he had indicated. "Aah, Miss, you're not going to be…"

Phone already in hand she casually linked it to a jack-in, and a thin arc leapt into the display panel. Lights flickered, a buzzer sounded for the briefest instant, but then the door slid wide open smoothly.

"G-getting in?"

"All-right, Mister. I've reactivated all the defence protocols on this network. I couldn't touch the other zones because everything is isolated from each other, but you should have total admin access to this one. Just log in with your normal credentials." With a flick she detached her phone, speaking to the guard as he wandered for a closer look.

He blinked slowly a few times, before grinning with excitement.

"…Cor… That's really-"

"TOP SECRET!"

"R-Right! Right, my apologies! I'm just getting rather 'pumped up' is all!" He began to wring his hands, fidgeting with anxious energy. "Even in normal operations I never had Administrator clearance! On my word, now we can do more than hide! I can promise you this: they won't be heading back out past us! Rightio, lads and ladies, smarten up!" He clapped his hand vigorously together. "Those who aren't wounded, escort those who are to the bunker. Rest of you, suit up! We're going to show these bloody corkers what for!"

Touma and Mikoto made their exit amid the sound of scattered excitement. The boy looked back over his shoulder and exhaled.

"Glad they're looking better, but I hope we can fix all this before it comes to that."

"I'm feeling pretty confident." Mikoto stretched lightly, trying to relax. _It feels good to be on a network again, even if some random people saw me dressed like this._ "When I had access to their system I erased all the video logs of our entrance, and scanned over the rest. It's like that supervisor back there said: they should be inside deeper, somewhere."

"Yeah, but where is somewhere?" Touma gazed ahead as the smooth white hallway they walked down branched out in three more directions. Though a few doors dotted each path all the signs were in English and of no use to him. It was as if they had entered some stark, sterile lab, and it reminded the boy all too much of a hospital.

"The map I saw ended here, but going by that sign there should be another security station in that room. Let's go: I'll take control of this facility one terminal at a time if I have to!"

She marched off, but quickly realized he was dropping behind. When she spun she saw him carefully looking around, not just behind them but also at the floors and walls.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking for traps. Who knows what crazy anti-thief stuff they have."

"They've got nothing like that here. This is for staff and stuff like that. And I can handle anything they've got, so hurry up already!"

As if in spite she picked up the pace, and though sweating Touma hurried along after her. _I'm never going to get used to that. How can she be so confident?_ … _Well, if I trust her enough not to shock me to death, I guess I can trust her on this._

"…And there we go, see? This lock is nothing." The door swung up ahead of her with ease, but she stopped after striding inside.

"Misaka, is everything okay?" He leaned over her shoulder and paled when he saw the body sprawled awkwardly on the floor.

The room was dim, but from the glow of a dozen monitors he could clearly see a set of bent legs tangled in a half-balanced office chair. They belonged to a man laying chest down on the floor, neck bent at a painful angle as his head pushed up against a large computer cabinet.

Mikoto immediately rushed to his side fearing the worst. But after a moment she sighed. "…He's okay, but I think he's unconscious."

"I hope so, because that looks really painful." Touma joined her, but gaped when he heard a soft snore. "Is he really just sleeping!? Like that!? I'm not even that tired after exams!"

"Well, I want answers. Let's ruin his beauty sleep." Mikoto sent out a jolt.

And then another.

The last one sent the body twitching, but still the man didn't react.

"N-nothing? He must have been hit with a tranquilizer or something!"

As she searched for a dart, Touma crept up beside her and reached. "Well, if nothing else let's move him."

"I guess that's a goo-"

Imagine Breaker rang out.

"-AAWAHGH!?" Mikoto flew back as the man sprang upright.

"WWWWWOOOOOWWWW!" With a limber grace the fallen guard was on his feet, stretching like an Olympian. "That was an INCREDIBLE nap! I am totally fired, but it was ALMOST worth it!"

As he worked through his routine, he spun far enough to see the two teens, huddled breathless by the door.

"…Who are you two? Why you dressed like wierdo's? And why's the system registering all these soft alerts? What did I miss? Are we being robbed? We're being robbed. We're being robbed and I fell asleep. Well I'm not just fired, I'm going to be shot. Something to look forward to, I s'pose." He was impossibly chipper, feet shifting as he danced to an inaudible tune.

Mikoto worked her jaw a moment, but nothing came out. The guard's eyes darted to and fro, all about the room, in a frenzy.

"Right, okay, protocol, protocol, PROTOCOL says that in an emergency… Ah, screw it, look, if you're super-villains or something, just take what you want, I'm not paid enough for this. Just let me kick back here and I'll not stop you, right? So? Go on! Why you just standing there? I'm giving you free rein, I'm already dead so what've I got to lose, ya know?" Mid spiel he slammed down into his chair, spinning himself around with dizzying speed.

"We… We're not the bad guys…" She tried to track his face, but he kept spinning round and round.

"Oh, really? Good to hear, that's a relief. Say, I think I heard some of my pals talking 'bout these two costumed vigilante types on the news the other day, guess that'd be you. Either way the offer stands, go nuts. Just don't tell anyone I'm not stopping you, or I'll be shot twice. Say, what's wrong, you both look a little sick, not feeling so good?"

"Can you please stop spinning!? It's hurting my head!" Mikoto was forced to look away as Touma covered his eyes. The guard stopped with a jolt, so hard that he nearly tumbled down again.

In response he took to his feet, pacing the room in wild abandon.

"Ah, right, sorry Miss. Just got so much ENERGY, I don't know, guys! It's really something, I'm more wired than the time I 'et a pound of my Gram's scone icing, and they tell me they could hardly pry me from the banister I was so juiced!"

"Look, excuse me…" Inching her way past the danger of his flailing arms, she jacked into the computer and hacked her way in. _Okay, we've got several hours of video logs. I don't like how everyone is just lying there, but maybe they're like this guy was…_ She puzzled over the feed a minute as the energized guard behind her bounced around.

"Right right right, go ahead, don't mind me! Say, by the way, that footage you're replaying looks real strange to me." He came up behind Mikoto's shoulder and she flinched away, but he ignored her to jab at the several screens. "This station here only covers video surveillance for the entrance to the other zones, you know? But you can see from the logs the criminals only went up to the Cleaning Zone, and where they went the security is awake if a little bashed up. So why're there all those bodies lying everywhere, even in down in Maintenance and Storage? Seems a tad strange, don't it?"

Half-frustrated and half-astonished, Mikoto stared up at their hyper assistant. _How's he processing this all faster than I am? What on Earth did they do to him… And why did his hand make it stop?_

"I don't know what's he saying, but-"

"Hey, hold it, pause right there! Sorry pal, didn't mean to cut you off but I saw something! Girl, upper left, back 15 sec- YEAH!" With a whoosh he raised his hands into the air, fists pumping up and down. "YES, look-it right there! I knew I saw something, there we have it!"

As he danced away Mikoto leaned closer to the screen, confusion only rising as she found the disturbance. "…Is that a bird?"

"Too bloody RIGHT it is! I don't how it got in here, all the ventilation is down through a high-temperature furnace system, so it'd be one cooked goose if it came that way! Oh well, guess it's not important, but I can't for the life of me figure out why everyone it passes by keeps dropping like a rock, that's ain't normal, ain't it? Never met a bird who made me tired, 'cept for that one chick I met when I lived up in Belfast a few years back!" The guard was back in chair, spinning like a top.

"Misaka…" Touma paused as he worked his way past the obstacle to join her side. "That looks an awful lot like magic."

"Or maybe an Ability."

It was impossible to tell exactly what was happening, but the records showed that prior to the criminals showing up a small bird flew down into what was labelled the Maintenance zone, before flying back up into Storage. Within a few moments of its passage, every worker in every room yawned, stiffened, and then fell to the floor. It set a leisurely pace, flitting through sliding doors as people opened them, but before anyone could react to the strangeness of the bird they had fallen victim to a deep and sudden slumber.

Mikoto bit her lip pensively as she charted its progress. _I don't understand. If that bird is somehow a villain, which is crazy enough as it is, why did it go that way? Is it working with the criminals? But they split up… It's almost lik-_

"We need to split up."

"Eh?" The esper's head jerked up and turned to her partner. "Wait, what? No, that's stupid! We need to stop the criminals!"

"I think you should do that." He stared down at his hand, smiling ruefully. "Heh… It's like you said: I'm not a whole lot of good against that sort of thing" Despite his admission he grinned and raised a fist. "But if that bird or whatever is actually a threat, I can stop it whether it's got magic or an Esper Ability."

 _This is NOT the time I want you to learn that lesson!_ "N-no, hold on, if you go-If we split up, then… We should go together if you're that worried, right!? The security here can stop the criminals!" _I can't HELP you if you're not with me! But I can't say that!_

… _Right?_

"No, there's no guarantee you'll be able to stay awake. It might be like back in the Dianoid. And we shouldn't underestimate these guys: they managed to steal Joan of Arc's thing from the mall right under our noses, didn't they? We can't just rely on the security here."

The weight of his logic piled up on the floundering girl. _When did he get so persuasive!? Is he really always like this?_ "But-no, I…"

 _Why is she being so stubborn? …All right, more stubborn than usual._ The boy gazed at her, worriedly watching her hand clamp down harder and harder on her cell phone. Suddenly it came to him. _Ah. I get it._ He softened his tone. "Misaka, it's not that I think you can't handle it. I…"

Her heart skipped a beat, and as if he saw her jump he paused.

"…Guess I trust you, is what I mean. So you stop the criminals, and I'll go figure out if we need to worry about this other problem."

She exhaled slowly, fighting the urge to hide her face. And prayed, as she raised her eyes to his, that her mask did enough to hide her blush. Swallowing hard, Mikoto finally nodded.

 _That's a relief._ "Okay. I'm going to head to the Storage place: which was is that, now?"

"W-we… We're already in the right hall for that, just keep, keep going this way."

"Right, and you go to Cleaning or whatever. We'll meet back up here, then?"

"Yeah, sure, right…" The girl found herself helpless to contribute, nodding along lamely.

"Okay!" But though Touma put on a confident face, he found himself staring just as lamely back at Mikoto as they stood silently in the security office.

The seconds ticked past.

"Wow! I couldn't understand a WORD of that, but it looked REAL important!" The security guard had begun vigorously clapping, and the sound was enough to overcome the awkward impasse. "Good luck, vigilante-types, and remember, if they ask you about me tell them that I fought until I passed out from exhaustion, right? Now excuse me, I need to work off some this energy, need to look tired for my cover story!"

As he dropped to the floor to fail at a performing one-handed push-ups, Touma and Mikoto backed out from the office. But as the boy turned to make his getaway he noticed a spark fly from the esper's hand. The door slammed shut with a click.

"Are you… Locking him in?"

"For his own safety. And, ah, speaking of safety…" Mikoto dithered as her perplexed partner stared. "…B-be careful, okay? Not that I'm really worried, after all, you're just going to fight a bird, right? D-don't get pecked too hard or anything! Eheh…"

He smiled, grateful for her attempt at humour. "Yeah."

But as each turned to meet their separate challenges, he felt his feet holding him back.

… _Damn it, Kamijou-san, just because she said… But I feel like I… Ah, Heck with it. Lightning, here we come-_

He sighed as he turned.

"Misaka…"

At her name she paused.

"And same to you, Misaka. Be careful."

And though she flinched strongly at his words…

And though he half-raised Imagine Breaker in anticipation…

Touma was startled when Mikoto just nodded curtly and ran, ran away.

… _That went much better than I expected. Was I worried for nothing?_ He realized he was still looking for her back, long after she had rounded the corner. Shaking himself he spun back to his own task. And as he did, he realized there was a still a worry gnawing inside him.

 _To tell the truth, I'm more than glad we split up… Because I've got a bad feeling about that bird._

!~~~~~~~~!

"No… No good." Though Imagine Breaker rang out yet again and her eyes fluttered, as soon as Touma removed his from the woman's brow she returned to sleep. _Guess I'm too close to the source. Just like Amazo, huh?_

He laid the woman forward on her desk as he found her, but added a gently draped wool cardigan from her seat-back atop her as a blanket.

He pushed himself away and continued his lonely sojourn through the Storage zone of the cleaning facility. Wandering past several desks and several more snoring bodies, Touma found himself on his toes, fearing a reprimand. He coughed, clearing his throat in the stale air, but no one reprimanded him for his impertinence.

Still he pressed ahead, but as he took yet another branching hallway to yet more offices some motion caught his eye.

When he glanced over he realized what he had seen was a security door, sealed and with intimidating red lettering on it. Though it was built like the ones he had already passed through, the striped warning tape around the door frame indicated it was somewhat more important. For a moment he was worried this time his badge would do nothing as he held it beneath an obvious sensor panel.

But like before his clearance was deemed high enough. The door slid open with a soothing ding and Touma resisted the urge to politely thank it as he sighed in relief.

 _This place is getting to me._ He gently chided himself as he stepped into a large room. _Honestly, this is better than a hospital. Here no one is going to yell at me if I knock over an IV stand or trip on-_

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and a strange note filled the air.

Whirling on his heel the boy spun, dodging back and low.

The only sound was of his sneakers, rasping on the linoleum floor as they slid. And all he saw behind him was the doorway, sliding shut now with a satisfying thump. There was nothing there.

. _..Wasn't there? Am I imagining things?_ Slowly the boy straightened as his heart resumed a sensible beat. Looking around, he was still alone, standing in the strangest storeroom he had ever seen. For the chamber was a grid-work of floating treasure, hovering at regular intervals every few feet. Most sat on cushions, especially the smaller gems his eyes could catch, but many larger pieces stood unassisted, somehow defying gravity.

It took him a minute to recognize the optical illusion. As he turned his head the light cast a glare and he discovered the goods were was stacked in clear boxes up to the ceiling. It was an eerie effect, but everything was actually just sealed in transparent vaults.

Wandering closer to one he saw that even their key-pads were made of the mystery material, with the numbers drawn out with thin embedded lines, just barely visible. "Wow… These seem secure."

Something whistled by his head.

This time Touma dropped and rolled, scrambling to make the room's centre. And that tone he heard as he entered played again.

But this time, as something dark and razor-quick darted about his ears, he heard more clearly a song.

The melody was gentle and lilting, not unlike the chiming of a well-made bell. It was marvellously high and clear, but he had little time to enjoy the sound as he batted the air around his head in panic.

"Stop! STOP! Stop that, you-Get awa-pfft-Hck!" His attempted to spit out a stray feather failed as it lodged itself in his throat. Curled up and coughing the boy noticed too slowly the song had ended, and he raised watery eyes up in confusion.

"I apologize." From what he could a lithe woman was addressing him, very tanned and fit. So tanned she was almost bronze. She continued, ignoring his stare as she gazed about the room. "You do not look as pale as the others and speak with a different tenor, but I had to be certain you were not a guardian of this place. I see you are with us, as you remain unaffected."

"Ppppth… E-eh? What? Who're…?" Blinking furiously and dabbing at his eyes Touma struggled upright, his view slowly clearing as he realized the woman was just not tan, but had smooth, brown skin. Her dark hair was pulled back to reveal a striking if aquiline nose, but he gaped most at her dress, surprisingly short and even more surprisingly of soft leather. _Do I… Do I know this lady?_ As he sputtered she finally deigned to look at him, raising an arched brow.

"Did not the woman send you? To assist? I am certain my message made it through..."

Blearily an image of the Archbishop flashed through his mind. "O-oh… Y-yeah? I mean maybe, but that was-"

"Good. We have little time." She strode imperiously away and Touma forced himself to follow despite his bewilderment. "It is good you came. I believed I could penetrate any shelter man in his hubris might build, but no one ever entered this particular chamber ahead of me. An unfortunate circumstance."

"Oh." Touma realized this explained nothing. "Uhm… So what exactly-"

"We are here." Her outstretched arm nearly clothes-lined the boy and awkwardly stumbled to her side. "There they are."

Inside the vault before them was a plush velvet cushion. It cradled 5 rings, of golden bands and differing gemstones. One was pale white opal, next to a glittering green emerald. Opposite were a burning ruby and a shimmering sapphire. Between them all was set a magnificent diamond, glinting in the light.

"Oh." The boy stared a moment.

"I agree. They are mere baubles. But necessary ones." With a dramatic gesture and steely eyes she swung out her arms again, narrowly missing Touma as he danced back. "Now I breach this seal. I am the only one the Last taught the ritual and words to, and I spent all night in preparation memorizing the symbols."

The boy took several wary steps away, but as he raised Imagine Breaker pre-emptively a nagging thought ran through his mind. _Wait, I thought she meant… Who is "The Last"? What the Hell is even happening? Something seems-_

"I begin!"

If before the boy had been intimidated by her stern demeanour, now she practically terrified him. Her teeth were bared in a ferocious rictus of anger and tension, and every muscle in her body strained as she slowly approached the plastic vault.

In a series of broad, deliberate movements, she stretched out a finger, letting it hover just above the clear container.

The woman let her eyes close, and she took a deep breath. Touma felt his own catch in his chest.

The finger jabbed in with force, and the key-pad lit up.

"SEVEN!"

… _Eh?_

But the woman was not done. The finger shifted slightly, and she struck again, pace increasing.

"FOUR! TWO! SEVEN! ONE, EIGHT, ONE, NINE!"

Touma watched as the beautiful woman enter a simple pass-code with all the severity and passion of a master-class maestro conducting his magnum opus.

"FIVE!"

The onslaught ceased, and woman gulped in air, panting lightly. There was a quiet beep as the box's security disengaged.

"Hah. And that woman said to be careful. I did not even feel a stirring of defensive magic. I suppose they thought this room impregnable enough."

"U-uhm." Touma's finger half-raised, but the woman discovered the problem on her own.

"…But why does it not open? Is this some sort of final barrier?" Her frown turned into a grimace again as she stared at the obstinate obstacle. "I memorized the symbols and their order, performing the ritual to perfection… So why won't this accursed cage open!?"

"I… I think you have to push on it."

"Push? Pardon? I do not…" She went silent when Touma leaned past her and, with a gentle shove, pressed on the transparent container. The front of it swung free out in a smooth arc at his touch. "Ah! Amazing…"

Touma gave his head a shake. _Man, magicians are normally pretty bad at technology, but this takes it to new lows. I just wish I remembered this one's name… They tend to get mad when I forget._

While the boy wracked what memories he had the woman stared sullenly at the open safe. But only a moment, before tossing back her hair and fumbling for a bag at her side. "A-ah, v-very good! I see why she sent you. You were of… Assistance. Let us return." As she spoke she carefully gathered up the rings and dropped them into her pouch.

Touma watched her with undisguised interest. "Right. So, why did the she want these?"

That earned him a perplexed glance. "Do you not know? These are necessary for the next summoning."

"Oh, I get it. So we get them first." He followed a short distance behind her as he nodded. "But wait, I thought those were the Crown Jewels or whatever."

"No, that was not our target. Are you actually supposed to be with our servants, as they perform their own task…?" She stopped to turn and give him a curious look. "What is your name again?"

He met it equally, squinting at her. _Where… Where do I… Wait. I don't know her, do I? She was acting like she didn't recognize me. Why would the Archbishop send her? She must be the one magician I HAVEN'T seen before._

"Aah… Kamijou. Kamijou Touma."

"…All my new companions have such strange names. At least your language is less brutish and unwieldy than the tongue these guardians use." [2] She shook her head before meeting his eyes. "I am the one you may know as Song-Bird. But I am not familiar with your given name: do you have another?"

"Well, sometimes people call me by my right hand's name: Imagine Breaker?" He posed it as a question, and she slowly nodded.

"Yes… Yes, that sounds more familiar. Very well, let us…"

Though Touma followed closely as she set off again, he soon found himself stumbling into her back.

"Oh! A-ah, sorry." He backed up a moment, but could still hear the words she muttered under her breath, one finger against her lips.

"Ima… Imagine… Breaker…!" With one quick motion she darted away, spinning towards the flinching boy. "Y-you're the enemy!"

"I am!?" The thought made him pale at first, but he soon pieced the puzzle together. "Wait, I am! THAT makes more sense! I knew something was strange here! I just figured you were someone I accidentally forgot about, but I CAN rely on my memory!"

"Curses… She was right to warn me. You are dangerously clever, to worm your way into my confidence. It is well that I was so diligent in committing the details of my task to memory. But you, Imagine Breaker!" She pointed a passionate finger at him. "You will not be permitted to interfere any longer!"

"Interfere? I helped you open the…" _Aw, damn it._ "N-never mind. Look, can we just talk abou-"

"Enough of your serpent's tongue! I will strike you down for your insolence!"

As she spoke the woman assumed a strange pose, balancing on one foot with her arms outstretched. Her right leg she kicked up and forwards, and he backed away as a stiff wind stirred the stale air.

" _By the spirits of the sky…_ " She continued, her voice and form becoming lost in a blinding whirlwind.

 _All right, this is it._ Reflexively raising his right hand Touma steeled himself for the worst. _She's one of those summon people, so her powers could be almost anything. I should wait and see what she does before I-_

The winds abruptly stopped, and she smiled triumphantly. "Prepare to meet your end, little rodent!"

Her bare foot had become a sharply taloned claw.

"…Eh?"

She flexed the points menacingly as Touma slowly absorbed her threat.

"I don't quite get-"

She slammed it down and it gouged thick lines in the linoleum floor. The boy gasped aloud as the ground rumbled beneath his feet.

"Whoa!? Wait, that's-!"

He was forced to roll backwards as Song-Bird launched into the attack, diving again and again with her talon. In seconds he was forced against a wall and stumbling for balance, hand raised against her assault.

"Yes! Now you-!?" Imagine Breaker shattered the spell, and soon it was clasping a soft, bare, and altogether human foot. "What?"

"Uhm…" Touma warred between keeping his eyes on the fight and averting his blushing gaze from her long and shapely legs.

"L-let go of me!" Luckily for him she ended the struggle, wrenching free as she collected her nerves. "I see now… You are no amateur, that must be it! T-then I will honour you with a different tactic!"

The whirlwind renewed, but only briefly before she reappeared.

This time her entire head was transformed into a bird's, sitting atop her human body.

 _That's super creepy!_ Beady eyes blinked at him a moment before it pecked at him. But this time he interposed Imagine Breaker immediately.

It rang out again. "…Mmph? M-m-mmphmph!?" The woman's lips tickled his hand as she still stumbled, leaning too far into her attack to pull back.

… _I guess I know why Misaka was freaking o-!_ "AAGGHH!?" He whipped away his hand as she bit into his palm, sprinting several feet away as she slid to the floor with a thump. "That really hurt! And that was the same tactic, just a different part of your body!"

"…I must use my secret weapon. Very well. But know this is your fault, for driving me to this! It's YOUR FAULT!" Her face became dark, expression losing any composure she still had. This time when the cyclone formed again, Touma felt a strange foreboding.

Almost faster than he could follow several projectiles whizzed out from within. If he hadn't already been crouching he would never have ducked under them all.

He rolled behind a shield of plastic safes, where he discovered what it was pinging of his protection and ricocheting into the floor and walls.

"Feathers?" He reached for one that landed near, but he recoiled when it cut his left hand.

"Stop hiding and face me!" The woman's whirlwind had ended, enough plumes dotting the outside of her arms to give her a harpy-esque look. She flitted around and past his defences as he scrambled to make some distance. "I would like to see you stop these with just your hand!"

She swung both arms at once, sending another deadly salvo.

"All right, that's enough!"

In one fell swoop, Imagine Breaker swept aside them all. It was surprisingly simple to counter her attack; he saw that they feathers always followed the path of her arm so all he had to do was swing with good timing. As they disintegrated, the woman's eyes widened into pale saucers.

"No… This is madness, I've never… She warned me, I should have listened!" She backed away, looking at him with undisguised terror. "My song, my claws, my beak, my feathers-! What else if your hand immune to!? It is simply monstrous!"

The boy winced a moment, but slowly raised it. "That's really mean… But I'm not afraid to use it!" He stepped forward and she faltered.

And in flash he was engulfed in wind, and something whipped by his head.

By the time he could open his eyes, she was gone.

And when he whipped his head around, all he saw was a small song bird, darting through the doorway.

Trailing a bag full of stolen rings.

!~~~~~~~~!

Mikoto's feet pounded down one corridor after another, but each was as abandoned as the last. Everywhere she went there were the signs of a scuffle, but it always looked as if the defenders had been overrun with little effort. Though increasingly relieved at the utter lack of bodies, that feeling abruptly ended when she turned the one last corner.

What must have once been a secure set of reinforced double doors had been blown apart, leaving only a smoking wreck. She read the sign above.

 _High-Value Processing Department_ … _Sounds about right._ Magnetic senses on full alert the girl picked her way past the rubble.

This part of the complex was even more lab-like and sterile than the offices she had passed on her way here. On either side of this hall were several cleaning rooms, and behind several glass doors she could see stands and industrial gloves and beakers with hoses, all for the polishing and maintenance of priceless gems. Some nozzles were so recently used they still dripped cleaning chemicals gently to the floor, and the girl recoiled from the caustic smell that filled the air.

But universally every room was empty: the workers were missing, along with the jewellery each cleaning station should have held.

The hall soon ended, but after a short bend opened up again into a large chamber that stretched nearly three stories up and over a hundred feet in all directions. And as Mikoto gazed within, she finally let herself smile.

The room would normally have been rather empty: there were only five permanent structures, most the size of a reasonable camper van. Four occupied each corner of the square room, being clear-walled cleaning stations. They too had been cleaned out of jewels, but contained in their place dozens upon dozens of hostages, cleaning workers and security guards stripped of their equipment. Watching them through the still opened door were an almost equal number of thieves, as armed as those left on the loading dock.

But in the room's centre, in the fifth and largest sealed cleaning station sitting atop a raised dais, was a large collection of sceptre and crowns, swords and jewellery. They glittered in heavy halogen lights, an enchanting allure of wealth and status.

But something was unusual, beyond even the armed thugs.

The top of the large cleaning station was shrouded in smoke, rising up a circle glowing on its roof. From where she stood Mikoto could hear something sizzling.

And striding out from the smoke, waving it away with broad strokes of his arm, was a tall, lanky man. He slicked back his thick raven hair and looked down at Mikoto with an imperious grin of his own, a long furry over-coat shifting on his thin frame. Behind him the hazy screen of smoke rose steadily upwards, billowing against the bottom of a temporary set of scaffolding built atop the entire clear box. There a number of criminals worked at the ceiling, but the girl's eyes were locked on the man who, despite sitting down heavily on a bulging burlap sack, waved down with feckless charm.

"Why 'allo down there. How's it going, Miss?"

"Boss? …W-who the Hell!?" Within seconds scores of barrels aimed at the esper, but their leader just quietly chuckled.

"Easy, steady on lads. Remember the rules?"

"But boss, she ain't no em-"

"Enough." The remonstrance was soft: still the man speaking up turned deadly pale. But then the leader smiled. "Nah, my lads, this lady is special for a different reason! Some of you might remember her Westfield the other day. She's the one that bullied you lot around like you was first formers and she was your nanny. [3] Ain't that right?"

To some, the grumbling of the thugs and the clicking of their weaponry would have been intimidating.

Mikoto had to force back a laugh. "I stopped you all then, and I'll do it again. Unless you want to surrender, you're in for a repeat experience."

"Well now, that's hardly sporting. Aren't you going to let me brag a little? That's what I'm supposed to do now, yeah, being the villain to your hero? Aw, what's with that conderscenderin' look? Don't you want to at least know what I'm up to?"

"Stealing the Crown Jewels for Baker. I know all about it." But something in the way the man was taunting her hinted at a greater purpose.

"Haven't we done our homework! Pretty well informed. But then I suppose some of that's obvious." He gestured down below him. "Me and these jewels, we have a loooong history. Well, not so long as their real history, but I'll avoid the boring bits. These babies ruined my life. And today, they're coming with me."

"I don't need your life story."

"Ah, but here's the good bit! Ya see this here glass box?" He tapped it, and it rang hollowly. "Not glass, after all. Some sort of plastic, super high tech, from Japan, Academy City. Probably ain't heard of the place. Anyway, it's tough: even if you can throw a tank like the guys say you can, you couldn't get in. Nothing short of a bunker buster would take this down. And even if it did, it'd ruin everything inside.

"These boxes are so safe, they're air tight: you need to take in oxygen just to go to work! And the best part is the door to get in only it only opens up from a voice command from about three guys, but even then it has to be when they're not under duress or nothing happens. Voice tester can tell they're stressed or something like that. So, aren't you curious about how I'm getting these babies out of here?"

"Not since you're going to fail anyway." _Yet… What is strange smell?_ Her nose wrinkled as the man stood up, stretching one long limb after another.

"Getting it yet? I'll elucidate. These daft ******* thought that their little glass boxes were impenetrable, but didn't realize they gave me the key to the problem all along. Ya see, when it comes to maintaining jewels and stuff, you don't just use Windex. You use powerful industrial solvents. Stuff that'll eat through your hand and the table underneath. Stuff from that same Japanese City. And stuff like that? Well, it can chew right through any blast-proof, ultra-secure plastics. Catch my drift?"

 _Touma was right. These_ _guys are pretty resourceful._ But the esper kept confidence in her tone. "If you want to impress me, try something else. Like letting go of the hostages."

He glanced to the corners of room, and the other plastic cleaning room full of struggling innocents. "What, them? Sure, lamb. Give me another 3 minutes maybe, and they're all good to go, yeah? They can leave right after I do."

She shook her head. "Not good enough. Drop the weapons, or I drop you."

"Ohoho! Very good, _very_ good! Despite that accent you talk a mean game!" The man chortled uproariously but soon got a hold of himself. "But you think I didn't pick up on your little trick? Girlie, if you're half as dangerous as they claim you are, maybe you ought to have a little look around."

The esper frowned a moment as the electromagnet pulses she sent out came back with strange results. She tilted her head thoughtfully. _Their weapons… That WAS quick._ "Huh. Aluminum alloys, I guess?"

He laughed and clapped once. "Hah! I'm genuinely chuffed! You really are something weird. You're right, got'em from my American friends, very top of the line. And unless I really screwed up, that ain't magnetic. So none o'that 'rip the guns from yer hands' nonsense you pulled earlier." Though the man's grin was now wide, it slowly faded. "You don't seem too fussed."

"You have no idea." Mikoto casually tossed back her hair. "Do you want to know how much metal there is in this room besides that? I could tell you, you know."

"Hmmm…" It looked for a second like the man would take her up on the offer. "Nah. Boys, close 'em up."

She heard several clicks, but at first Mikoto noticed nothing. Then she saw the panic.

It occurred to her that before, the doors to the chambers had been opened, with guards merely standing watch. Now they sealed shut, trapping both prisoners and a limited supply of air alike.

 _No, they'll suffocate! I've got to-_

"Ah ah ah, I'd be careful." He waved a boney finger like a clockwork metronome, counting out the seconds. "Right now, they've got about 10 minutes of air each container, I'd reckon. But I've also got a little radio-controlled explosives trapped inside each chamber. Now, you're going to do exactly what I say and answer all my questions, or I'll have 'em lit up one by one like easy-bake ovens until you do. And when me and crew leave, you can try and get 'em out then. Sound fair, yeah?" [4]

Mikoto remained still, options running through her mind. _…_ _There aren't a whole lot, though._

"Oh dear. What's wrong missy? You seem a little less confident, don't you? Sorry 'bout that, but I'm always pretty prepared, ya see. I figured someone strange'd show up. They did last time…"

The man examined the back of his own hand a moment, before grunting as he propelled himself to his feet. His head remained bowed as he dusted himself off.

"All done talking? Well, I supposed I stalled as long as I could. I didn't WANT to have to threaten them like that, but what can I say: you forced my hand." He laughed at her dour expression, slowly looking up to meet her eye. "What, you don't believe me? think I'm such a bad guy? Missee, I'm just a thief. A con-man. A crook, if you will."

Mikoto was no stranger to cruelty. She had seen his type before. But even to her, his predatory smile was unnerving.

"You might just be looking at Finlay 'The Shark' Morris. And now who… Little morsel… Are you?"

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **FOOTNOTES:**_

[1] Before you ask, number of points aren't indicative of power. Rather, an 8 pointed star is just a more commonly Christian symbol. If I was doing a Jewish mind-controller

[2] I'm PRETTY sure I already established this, but for the sake of having less Mikoto translating I remember I had made it so that the magician's Baker summoned are magically multi-lingual, automatically switching over when necessary. Now, while everyone everywhere in RailDex speaks Japanese (it's the new Lingua-Franca!), it doesn't make much sense for ancient folks to do so. If I didn't mention it before, I'll have to edit some earlier bits. Oh well!

And to those who wonder why Joan lapsed into French occasionally if all the above is true… Well, call that authorial fiat. Or Diktat. Or whatever. I thought it was funny.

[3] To anyone not familiar with British education, you can consider this equivalent to Grade 6 or 7. To anyone not familiar with Western styles of education… I've got nothing. 12 years old, I suppose?

[4] I originally had a cool idea that The Shark would rig the chambers somehow to dispense the solvent in each room, slowly poisoning the air insde. But I couldn't figure out how he'd manage that it, so I went with this idea instead. It suits him better, I feel. More low-key and improvisational, less super-villainy.

[5] Anyone catch the foreshadowing this chapter? There at least two things I can think of: one that might look like an oversight. The other hints at a small bit of backstory. Tune in next time to find out if you're right, I suppose!


	47. Part 2: Chapter 16

**Welcome back, all. I may be taking a hiatus next week on account of being out of the country for a week. I can promise nothing, but there's a CHANCE I'll get another chapter out during that time. If I do, look forward to it. I've got a scene there that I've been foreshadowing for a long time now (and that I actually wrote at the end of last summer). You'll likely know it when you see it. And yes, it's romance.**

 **On a lighter note, I discovered why I've been having so many typos lately! Basically, since I do my editing at work, I use their word software. The trouble is that I've been avoiding adding names and stuff to its dictionary, because, well, reasons. This means that the spellchecker is always going nuts, but I usually ignored it and just sought out the red lines I knew were actually wrong. But apparently, somewhere around the 400000 word mark, I've used so many "incorrect" names and terms in this document that the software has just thrown up its hand in the air and rolled over to die.**

 **And here I thought I was just getting better at proofing as I go…**

 **All joking aside, please join me for this, the last Chapter of Day 4, and as always, thanks for sticking with me.**

 **Chapter 16**

12:21 P.M., December 28th: London: An Underground Facility 

"Damn it! How. Are. You! So! FAST!?" As he dove with all his might Touma found himself just inches from his whistling, twittering target.

Yet Song-bird slipped through his grasp, bag of rings dangling tantalizingly close. Instead of laying hold of her he fell short, crashing onto yet another desk-full of office supplies and paperwork.

The bird dipped through another doorway, her beautiful song rebounding down the halls. Woozy from the impact, he crawled on hands and knees in hot pursuit.

"Aaggh… I'm going to be really sore after this." _Why on earth did Baker summon this lady?_

 _At least she's more dangerous running than fighting._

Stumbling to his feet he passed through the open door and glanced about. For the last 15 minutes she had woven a tangled path through the Storage Zone, but the boy was beginning to see how that was a misnomer. There were as many hallways and large shared offices as there were storage rooms, presumably for the great deal of paperwork involved in the safety of priceless gems.

Though he had lost sight of her, her song was as a good as a trail of breadcrumbs. He ran and ran, and soon caught up in another long thin room full of desks and cabinets.

If a whistle could be insulting, the small song bird flying along the ceiling would have been a champion heckler. She chittered angrily, ducking and darting just out of reach, too small and fast for the boy to lay hands on.

Apologizing succinctly as he used one snoring man's gut as a spring board, but as he bounced up high something struck him as peculiar.

 _Didn't Imagine Breaker work on her?_ He had failed to notice in his mad dash, but he was still the only conscious human left standing. _So why is everyone still asleep?_

He decided it was a mystery that would have to wait as he once again missed his prey and slammed back down to earth. Ruining a week of work by sprinting across several desks he closed the distance to Song-bird. Paper scattered everywhere as he dipped down to pick up a stapler, and he lobbed it high and hard.

With graceful ease the bird dipped, and the attack sailed past. But Touma just grinned when it collided with the sensor of the open door she was sailing towards.

Sensing an intrusion it beeped and slammed shut before her, nearly trapping her by the beak. Her whistling song was finally cut off, and she had no time to run as Touma came up behind her.

"Now I've got you!" He tumbled through the air as the bird, unable to flee, turned and dove straight into his open arms.

But she came too quickly, dodging both his hands, and instead barrelled into his chest at top speed.

For a moment, the boy wondered why.

Until he felt a hammer blow to his sternum and sailed back the way he came.

Yet again he found himself knocking into a desk, monitors and knick-knacks scattering to the floor.

By the time he picked himself up the bird had already doubled back past him. A hand to his chest revealed a sensitive bruise and he groaned.

"W-wow… How much does she weigh? Ooof…"

Staggering now he found she had not gone far. They had somehow worked their way back to the big office room Touma had been in just before he opened final door for her. Aside from that direction, there were three other exits: one they had just arrived from, and two more than lead to the left and right.

 _Great, now I'm lost. …But watching her circle like that makes me think she is, too._ He could see her neck twisting this way and that as she searched for a path to freedom, twirling about the room's centre.

The beginnings of a plan coalesced.

He looked about for the needed tools, pocketing another stapler. Next he stole up to the woman from before and pulled off her cardigan, quietly apologizing yet again as he balled it up in his fist.

Then, with careful eye on the bird, he turned around and thumped the door behind him hard.

Hearing its beep the bird whipped around, and saw that one of the three exits had been sealed.

Without thinking it banked left and flew for the nearest doorway.

 _That's right..._ As Touma ran to the opposite side he laughed. _Fall for it twice!_

He let her get close before he pitched his second projectile past her and, just like before, the door slammed shut in her face. By the time she had recovered and renewed her song, Touma was blocking the last remaining path.

"You need a person to open the doors for you, right!?" He taunted, gesturing with his right hand brazenly. "The only way out is past me! So, bring it on!"

She dipped about across the room for several seconds, and the boy could feel her gaze tracking his hand. When she finally zipped forward in her last attempt to win freedom, he knew it was over.

Though feinting right, she ducked left instead in the final second, evading the sweep of Imagine Breaker as she warbled triumphantly.

 _But if you dodge my hand-_

Her eyes were focused on Imagine Breaker, and distracted she failed to notice the woollen cardigan rising into her path.

- _You can't avoid this!_

Her song ended with a squawk as she hit the improvised net. It was Touma's turn to cry victory as he pulled her away from freedom.

Until he felt her tug back.

!~~~~~~~~!

"…I'm waiting."

As he mocked the esper the Shark reached into his coat with his free hand and took out a small remote.

"You seem a little shy. How about I change your mind?" The Shark took one sidelong glance to the side at the container nearest Mikoto and shrugged as he pointed it their way. "I tried. Sorry, folks."

He depressed a switch.

And again. And again, as his annoyance grew.

"…This thing busted?" He continued until he noticed the girls' soft smirk. "Ah. It's your doing? Now how about that." But causally he tossed it aside, letting it clatter to the floor below. "Well, don't matter. I didn't really want to blow 'em up anyway."

 _Of course you didn't. That's why you locked them up to suffocate._

"What's with that sourpuss face? You sure you don't want to talk, girlie? We've still got a few minutes left before this acid does its job. We can do this without a fire fight: I have to admit I find you and that other guy something interesting, and I can't find out more if you're dead, ya know? It's kinda flattering, having freaks on your tail."

 _Does this guy know how to push my buttons, or is he just naturally a pain in the ***?_ But even as she complained she felt the seconds ticking by, watching as the hostage's struggle grew more and more desperate. _Even if they had metal on them, I'm not getting it out of there like this. I could maybe fire a railgun, but what would that do to them inside?_

The Shark followed her gaze, misunderstanding the point.

"You know, if they don't calm down in there they're gonna run outta air faster than I'd like."

"Don't act like you care!"

"Me? Not caring?" He punctuated the words by jabbing his gun into his chest. "No, no, no, I care. They're just doing their jobs. They would've had no problem at all if you hadn'ta shown up, we got along all cordial like."

"Sure you did." But even as the esper distracted the master criminal her mind raced. _I just wish I wasn't bluffing about the metal before._

In reality, there was nearly nothing. Whether for safety reasons or because of possible chemical reactions, nearly everything must have been made of plastic polymers. The only exception was a handful of metals trays. That was all she had to work with; trying for iron sand wouldn't get her enough before she was shot, and she couldn't deliver enough juice right now to level the entire cadre of villains at once.

 _And even if I could, word'd get out that I solved things without even breaking a sweat, and then I'd have the Directors on me again. No, I need a clever way out. But…_ Just like before she could tell the security systems here were shielded but they were deactivated; the only electricity still flowing was in the copper wiring to the lights. _And they've got night-vision vision equipment, so… Unless…_ A plan developed as she continued to buy time. "Yeah, sure you were. I bet you and these poor people were all old friends."

"Shut your damn mouth!" Mikoto had not expected the sudden outburst, but the Shark controlled his expression. "…But that's not the point. This is." He levelled his gun at her again, but then frowned. "Well, it's not a point either. It's a gun. Look, start talking or I shoot, alright? Damn it, you're making this harder than it looks in the shows…"

As he trailed off muttering, the girl seized her chance.

The Shark merely raised an eyebrow as she spun and sprinted for the door.

"Oh. The boring way, huh? Shame."

She ignored him, but hung a left to lean closer to the wall. Her arm stretched out, drawing closer to the wiring embedded in the concrete walls. It was insulated, but not insulated enough.

The Shark sighed. "All right, then. Men, open-"

She sparked.

And the lights went out.

There was a brief hail of gunfire, but it faltered as men shouted in confusion. The room was shrouded in darkness, lit only by the glow of dull flames near the ceiling and the heat of the acidic reaction atop the main plastic vault.

Though surprised for a moment, the Shark quickly crouched low with his readied handgun. But he had no way to dodge the metal tray that slammed into his face, stunning him as he cried out.

Illuminated from below by the chemical light the Shark tumbled from view, shouting as he fled the accidental spotlight. "Night vision, idiots, now! Find her and plug her already."

To the sound of running sneakers the criminals shuffled with their equipment, lowering visors with eager intent.

A thin fan of lightning arced out across the room. It leapt from man to man, startling them as it danced around their heads.

But not a single criminal was felled, and soon they were laughing derisively. Before them was her solitary figure, standing unarmed and defiant.

"Well, you heard the boss." One huge man grunted, levelling his heavy machine gun. "He's finally snapped out of it, so let's have some fun!" He opened up a vicious stream of fire.

Which passed right between the girls.

Because where he aimed at one girl…

Suddenly there were two.

And then four. And then eight.

And as one they charged into the criminal's ranks, and they emptied their clips in panic.

But soon the gunfire became sporadic and hesitant, amid cries of pain and anguish.

"Aaahhh! FRIENDLY FIRE, FRIENDLY ******* FIRE!"

"S-sorry, but- Aaggh!"

"Stop! We're over here, you stupid *****!"

"Where!? WHERE DID SHE-GGHGH!?"

Though blind atop his plastic box, the Shark collected his thoughts.

He wiped a thin trail of blood from his nose.

"Why isn't she shot yet?"

A man stumbled into the plastic vault below his leader, overhearing the rhetorical question. "I-I can't… Shark, there's like, five-six! No, ten of her!? She's everywhere!" He rustled about in the blackness, twisting and turning as he sprayed lead.

"What they hell are you talking about? I see nothing but idiots shooting at each other."

"It's coming in through the visors, Boss!"

"Then take off your night vision, dip****."

"But Boss-"

The Shark sighed and dropped down, cutting of his man's protest by landing on his back. Collapsing with a strangled cry he was helpless as master criminal bent low to pick up his fallen goggles.

When they slid into place he frowned.

"How the Hell did she fool these? They're brand-spanking new, top of the line." Yet through the goggles he saw only the flickering feedback of his own forces flailing about in panic and several phantom shapes dashing distractedly. He cursed as they shimmered and flickered, warping about at times. "No wonder. Damn. Well, not my money this time."

He tossed them aside like a pair of cheap sunglasses and clambered back atop the still smoking vault. Avoiding the circle of sizzling acid he laid low, hand gun resting on his forearm.

Squinting through the glare of muzzle flashes as his men fell one by one, the Shark soon found what he was looking for.

A tell-tale spark of electricity flickered in darkness and he heard another strangled cry. He tracked its source carefully.

The sights lined up.

He squeezed the trigger, but instead of a satisfying thump he was rewarded with a metallic ping. Cursing he rolled aside, anticipating the second metal tray that rocketed past his cheek, but by the time he recovered all traces of Mikoto were gone.

 _C-crap! Glad I was being careful; he's a good shot._ The girl spent a moment behind one of the glass vaults, lying low for a moment. She was down to half a dozen trays, orbiting her in a protective halo. _Stupid aluminum bullets, stupid places without ferrous metal…_

She worked her way silently around the outside of the temporary prison, growing anxious from the pounding fists inside. Her senses reached out and she dimly felt the electricity in the criminals' goggles standing tensely on guard in front of the sealed door.

Preoccupied as they were it was no problem for Mikoto to steal up behind them unnoticed to reach the door. _Voice sensors, huh? Cute._ In mere seconds she had overcome the security, even less time than it took the door to hiss open.

The guards heard the sound and spun, but she was already gone. They soon had their hands full threatening the fleeing hostages back inside with their rifles.

The commotion gave Mikoto plenty of time to steal up upon them again, grimly confident. _Lucky for me they brought good headsets: easier to fool a computer than just simple electronics. Heck, I could just overload all their headsets at once I wanted to, but this is safer._ She swung around for an electrified kick, grinning as she sent another clueless crook into his comrades before darting off again. _All right, and more satisfying._

That was the third vault she had unsealed, and by now the guards had been neatly thinned out by her lightning and their own stray fire. Those who remained were cowering behind overturned carts and empty containers, more afraid of their allies than of the girl.

It would be child's play now to incapacitate the rest, but as she ran to the fourth and final group of prisoners the esper heard a voice calling down from on high.

"Boss, we're coming down! It's good to go!"

"Finally! Blow it, why don't you!?"

Mikoto remembered briefly the scaffolding that had been above the Shark, but she had not given it a second thought. _Come to think of it, what were they doing -!?_

She shielded her eyes from the sudden explosion as a hail of concrete and rubble cashed down from the ceiling. It mostly was diverted by the temporary platform which had lifted the criminal workers up, but enough sprayed free that she dove for cover. The skirmish ceased and for a moment there was nothing but scattered coughing heard throughout the battlefield.

A beam of light had pierced through the newly made hole in the facility's roof.

 _Wait, the roof!? We're underground! Did they really tunnel down here!?_ Her question was answered when a series of ropes dropped down though the dusty illumination, four men riding with them.

But instead of acting as reinforcements they landed on the glass vault and set to work. Still dazzled by the blinding light Mikoto only belatedly realized that attached to the ropes were some kind of grip pads, now being hooked to the vault.

A sudden heave and they wrenched up, removing with a pop a near perfect circle of the Academy City material. Same was hoisted away from the rest of the vault, allowed to crash and roll away onto the floor below. All four newcomers dropped further inside to greet their now exposed prize.

 _They're already in!? I've got to-_

There was another gun shot. It bit deep into her another tray, and she was forced to discard it and run back to cover.

"I can see you now! Come on, shoot her already!" The Shark fired several more times and, no longer reliant on their faulty equipment, his goons joined in. Soon she was huddled behind her dented half-shell of trays, pinned down as she backed up to the final glass vault.

Though her heart raced, she still spared a moment for the tap-tapping behind her. One of the hostages of the last vault was weakly knocking on its walls, barely noticeable over the rain of ammunition. He gaped and gasped inaudibly, turning paler by the minute.

"Got into three of the, little girlie? You weirdo's just don't playing fair!" The Shark's voice rose above the clamour. "Eh, whatever! All this super-villain **** isn't my forte anyway! I'm no Dr. No. Heh!"

"Oh yeah? And what is, getting beaten by _little girls_?" The esper taunted weakly, distracted by the effort of both protecting herself and unsealing the last of the hostages.

But just as she finished the latter she heard a straining, groaning sound, and a clattering of precious metals. She peeked through a gap in her wall to see that the Crown Jewels were on the move.

What she did not expect was the speed of their exit. The entire table the more than 140 piece collection rested on had been clamped to the four ropes, and just like the circle from the vault's top it began to rise. When it passed the lip the Shark leapt atop lightly, still firing at Mikoto as he laughed raucously.

"Not so much!" One arm looped around a guide wire for support he emptied his clip and gave a jaunty wave as his ride quickly elevated. "What I'm really known for is diversions! So long forever, kid!"

Mikoto extended a hand to launch a tray, hoping to sever the wire, but hesitated. _I can't just wreck them all, but I can't let him get away either! To… That Idiot trus… Oh, DAMN it!_ She recoiled from a renewed burst of gunfire from the remaining criminal, able do nothing as the thief slipped from view and his table blocked the light. _I'm going to have to clean up here first, and then-_

She paused.

Her ear tweaked.

 _What… That sounds… Familiar…_

For some reason it was incredibly distracting, and though just barely audible it was getting louder by the second, enough to make her head turn. Soon it was loud enough that even the criminals could hear, and a few lowered their weapons to stare apprehensively at the room's solitary door.

From somewhere beyond its smouldering ruin, something came.

"…aaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAGGHGHHHHH!"

A long bellow of terror preceded what Mikoto recognized as a certain unfortunate boy, rocketing into the battle with incredible speed.

"T-Touma?" Shield half-forgotten she tried to catch the boy's eye, but he whipped past her and around the room into the darkness. _How's he doing that!? And was that a cardigan!?_

Arms outstretched like he was water-skiing behind a bullet train Touma hurtled along at blistering speed, feet now skidding and skipping along the floor. As he swung about from the sweater's arms his legs kicked out, scattering criminals, their weapons, and cleaning tools alike. And all the while his scream continued, getting louder as the criminals opened fire, finally reacting to the improbable sight.

"I-Idiot! Just let go! I'm coming!" Mikoto sprinted out into the open, heedlessly zapping anyone in her path as she chased down the boy. The room was pure chaos, the only real illumination still coming from the Shark's escape route.

She followed him through several circuits of the room, and together soon emptied it of conscious thugs. But before she could reach him Touma's sweater suddenly jerked and launched upwards. He sailed behind it though the still glowing beam of light like an ascending angel.

"WAAAAAAAAaaaaaggghhhh…"

And he was gone.

"Idiot, wait for meeeee!" She pushed her trays into the ground and rocketed after him, disappearing into the escape.

And down below, as the dust settled, and several dozen criminals groaned on the floor, the one-time hostages left the safety of their vaults to cast disbelieving stares about.

!~~~~~~~~!

"Man! Was THAT invigorating! Wow!" The tall lanky man could hardly contain his amusement as the two trolley cars trundled down the abandoned subway track. He rapidly looped long sheets of canvas around the goods, giving each piece of the Crown Jewels diligent attention despite his laughter. "Just wish I had a biographer. I should see about asking the Account… Nah. He wouldn't go for that at all, the killjoy."

"Ah… S-sir…" The Shark glanced up at the man pumping the handcar that was pulling his own flatbed cart. [2] Despite wheezing with exhaustion the underling managed a few words. "What… About the… Others?"

"Eh? Oh, the ropes are still there. As long as they can handle a teenage girl, they can climb out. If they can't manage that, then they're not worth busting out of lock-up." Dismissing them from his mind their leader continued, waving a free hand. "When we get to the pickup point you can go back for them if you want. Hell, grab the crane we lugged down there too, and all the mining tools were used to dig down, and the floodlights and-"

"Never… Mind… S-sorry… Sir…"

"Thought so." The Shark straightened after tying the last of the Crown Jewels to the long table with a single heavy sheet. "Now keep pumping, I'm behind schedule. We've had enough strange **** today slowing us down and I don't…"

He paused.

"S-sir-"

"Ssh ssh sssh ssssshh…!" The Shark raised a boney hand to his ears. "…Now what the Hell is that God-awful racket?"

Something was echoing down the abandoned subway shaft. By the time it was recognizable as a scream it was already too late.

"…wwaaaaaaaAAAAGGHHHH!" Touma zipped by, lightly bumping into the Shark as he was carried past.

The blow as nearly enough to send the man tumbling to the ground, but he grasped a table's leg and held on, dangling precipitously. "The Hell!-!? Was that a Cow-boy!? Is the other one here now?"

His accomplice only shrugged as the Shark pulled himself up, unable to look over his shoulder for a better look.

But then the man stopped his pumping and pointed back down the tunnel, the colour draining from his face.

"Agh, what is it NOW!?" The Shark squinted back down the tunnel, as around the bend he saw a strange glow.

Overpowering the subway's emergency lighting was a floating ball of electricity. It balanced between the metal rails of the track, wobbling occasionally. Hovering in its centre was Mikoto, lightning arcing around her as she turned herself into a human locomotive. And every second she made ground against the fleeing carts.

 _This is tricky… Wish they had more old-fashioned trains back in Academy City!_ "Get back here, Idiot! I-I mean, ALL of you! And give back those Jewels!"

"Holy Hell! You two are tenacious!" Astonishment quickly faded into worry as the Shark's fire-arm clicked uselessly. "Damn it, and of course I'm empty. Good thing we're-"

The tunnel opened up and they were bathed in sunlight.

"-Almost clear! Finally, our ticket to Ride!" [3]

Though the speed of his cart was wind enough, the helicopter that descended and kept pace with him blew his greasy hair about even more. It lowered several lines and the man set to hastily tying them down.

Behind him Mikoto slowed, hand raised against the glare. _We're outside? But…_ The girl spared a second to glance around. _No. We're in a trench?_ [4]

The overcast sky was bright enough, the air chilly enough that she regretted even more leaving behind her winter coat. But even as she mourned she watched with distress as the whole long table full of royal regalia was heli-lifted up an away from the tracks.

"All-right, THIS time, so long forever! AHAHAHAHA, WHOOO!" The Shark whooped giddily as he clung tight to the cable. Grimly smug he looked down upon her rapidly disappearing form.

But that process suddenly slowed. Grimacing he looked up, leaping up to rap the bottom of the helicopter with his gun. "Hey! Hey, take us up! This ain't a sight-seeing-" A rush of wind cut off his words as something blasted nearby. But by the time the man looked around there was nothing to see.

As he searched a set of speakers attached to his ride buzzed to life, and he winced at the over-loud report. "Boss! We've got- Aagh, ****!"

The whole helicopter dipped, shaking the Shark and jewels alike.

The pilot tried again. "T-there's this flying guy! He keeps buzzing us, if-if he hits our rotors-! Damn it, I can't get any height!"

"What is he…? What?" The Shark looked up, and saw to his astonishment the Cow-bow had returned, apparently to dive-bomb his escape vehicle. His arms fell limply to his side. "No. No, I don't believe it. This is insane. And what the Hell is he even saying? He speaking in tongues? Is this… I-I just… These guys really are like from before…" The man watched vacantly as the attack continued, but his hand tightened on his pistol grip.

"YOU CRAZY BIRD, SLOOOW DOOOWN!" _No use! Has she gone feral or something!?_ Regardless of the reason, the bird still trapped in his makeshift net had decided to make the Helicopter the target of her blind rage. She would dart in close and slam hard into it, leaving a dent and travelling behind an increasingly battered Touma. With each blow he felt his white-knuckled grasp slipping.

Each blow did not make much impact, but the overall effect was adding up, the vehicle's flight becoming erratic.

"At this rate… We'll cra-" Behind the Shark there was a crash. He spun, and looked up to see Mikoto dangling upside down bottom of the Helicopter, panting from excretion as lighting arced through her feet. "What!? How!? You too!?" In frustration he tossed his empty gun at the girl. "STOP THAT ALREADY! Stop making a liar of me, you damn brats!"

She leaned out of the way but the helicopter took a sudden dip and she misjudged, caught by the wind, nearly flinging herself back out into the sky. Swinging up and around she caught hold again off its side only to dodge again as something white plummeted where she crouched.

As the wind rushed through her hair she watched as Touma came barrelling after, slapping down next to her.

Though knocked nearly breathless, she looked up. "O-oh, hey Misak-AAAAAAAAGH!"

But as he pulled away again, her hand snapped out for his shoulder. _Not this tim-_

Imagine Breaker rang out, and she dimly realized which shoulder she had reached for. "Eh? Eeeeeeeh!?"

But it was too late; the magnetic grips from her feet failed her and she was wrenched away along with him.

For a moment, she panicked, powerless and dangling in the open. It was all she could do to wrap herself around Touma and bury her face into his back.

Though his arms strained from the extra load, for a minute the boy's mind was distracted. He looked down at the limbs wrapped around his chest, but then saw the ground below and averted his gaze immediately.

"I-Id… Idiot…" Breathless and shaking, Mikoto clung tightly, leaning over to his ear. "What is… Happening!?"

"The Bird! The BIRD!" He could barely hear her over the rushing wind, but he was rapidly becoming worried. For he had noticed that they were beginning to sink. _This woman-bird is strong, but I think even she's had enough!_ "Let go!"

"But you'll-"

"Fine! Arms hurt! Just go, don't worry!"

For a second, she was shocked by his advice, but seeing the helicopter begin to ascend abruptly remembered.

 _R-right! I-if I just l-let go, I can, I can be fine! I can, just, pull myself back over! No sweat! Now, all I have do, is let go!_

She closed her eyes, and made the leap.

But when she opened them again, she was still attached.

 _…Let go!_

She tried again.

But still she clung.

 _L-let… Let go!_

Though her hands twitched, they remained firmly clasped to his sides.

They drifted above the city skyline, and Mikoto heard the frantic wing beats rustling above her.

 _You know, this kinda reminds me when-_

"Miiiiiisaaaaakaaaaa!"

 _****!_ "RIGHT!" Finally she succeeded, blushing furiously as the air ripped at her mask. But it stayed on as she reached out for the helicopter, not quite out of range, and she rocketed back towards it.

This time she hit the underside with less speed, dropping down next to the Shark onto his table.

"Damn it!" His rage was incandescent as he stomped across the table, stooping low.  
Get off my Jewels, you-!?" But he froze with eyes wide as Mikoto reached down with her powers.

"There. Now I'm armed…" She hefted the jewel encrusted sword she had freed with both hands, using her powers to assist with its impressive weight. "And you're not! So give up, or I'll-"

"NOOOOOO!" She reeled as he stumbled forward in complete panic. "P-put that down! PLEASE!"

"E-eh?" _What's with the sudden shift in attitude? Seconds ago he was furious, now he's… Scared?_

The Shark had fallen to his knees, what colour there was in face before completely drained. "That's the Sword of Offering! Be careful, careful!" He trembled as he crept forward. "Look, just set it back down… There we go…" Slowly Mikoto obeyed, overawed by the passion in his voice. She stumbled back as he leapt upon it, frantically tying it back up with the fabric scraps she had cut through to free it.

 _Wh… That was his chance! I mean, I was ready for him to attack me with it, but even so… He's a criminal, is he really that…_ Mikoto stared at the man, dumbfounded as he slowly calmed down, his work finished.

"Oh, thank goodness…" With a shake of his head he stood up again, mere feet from the girl. "Right, where were we?"

There was an explosion and everything lurched.

Mikoto latched onto the faltering helicopter's bottom as the Shark scrambled for a guide wire, eyes whipping up in frenzy. "The Hell! Is going! On NOW!?"

They both felt their stomach's heave as the ground fell out from beneath. The helicopter's controlled drift took a noticeable dive towards London below.

With only moments to spare, the esper sent out her electrical senses. _I don't know if I can control this thing from here, but I have to… Oh no._

She realized with despair that the rotors were a smoking ruin.

Similarly smoking was the now tattered cardigan that Touma clung to, wavering in the sky after the bird's final attack on the hated helicopter. It had recovered enough to fly this high, but now seemed to be spent. And below it the boy swung, grasping at mere threads for survival. They were just above the copter's blades, still spinning with deadly force as it glided out of control.

With no time to spare the girl twisted the whole thing sideways, and as they spun aside the rotors narrowly missing his toes. Mikoto forced open the sliding door in its side and he careened inside the cabin.

"****! What now-AAGGH!?" The pilot spun from his smoking control panel as Touma staggered to his feet. Even behind his face visor Touma could see he blanched in fear. The man put both hands up, and the craft yawed again. "You!? N-n-no, Please, don't hurt me! I surrender, you crazy flying man!" He cowered as Touma strode up to him, but the boy just laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know what you're saying, but please fly this thing!" _Hope pointing forward will be enough translation!_

"What they Hell are you…" The pilot followed Touma's finger, but both were startled by a sickening snap.

They watched as a pair of rotors sailed off by the window, tumbling down out of their view.

Even Touma, no expert pilot, knew what this meant. They clung to each other and, linguistics aside, cried out in tandem.

"We're going doooooooown!"

Even though the gust of the descent was deafening, Mikoto heard their voices and in desperation was forced to agree. _Okay, I can lift a helicopter! No problem! Just need something… Wait, where're all the big buildings?_

Finally she realized. "Have we been flying so long we're out in the suburbs!?"

For miles around there were nothing but rows of identical houses and pristine lawns. They were gliding low enough now that the girl could make out individuals standing in the streets. _And nothing bigger than a car to push off of! I can't stop this much momentum with that!_

"Noooo!" The Shark clung desperately to his table, but shrieked with fear as the table rocked violently. "Not the Jewels, not the Jewels! This is all going so wroooong!"

 _Think, Mikoto, think-_ Finally her powers reached something, but she was surprising at his what they reflected waves showed. _A subway? Out here? And above ground…? No, wait, that's-!_

She glanced about frantically and soon saw their salvation.

Running high above the houses, along the banks of a narrow river, was a long, single track monorail. [5] It ran nearly parallel to their descent, and coming up along their side was a slowing monorail train, passengers staring out their windows as they neared their destination. Some gawked; others took photos, and still more screamed. None could stop the helicopter as it drifting in on a collision course, but instead of tragedy it was exactly the lucky break a tired level 5 needed.

"All right…. Here WE GOOOOOOO!"

Mikoto strained, and lightning flared all around her. And despite complete engine failure, the helicopter began to drift.

The train leaned under unseen forces, creaking and groaning. Everyone inside was sent to the floor as it tilted, but the connection held fast as it neared the station ahead of them.

The helicopter slowed in time with the train as Mikoto brought the two together.

Still clinging to the table with the Crown Jewels, the Shark felt a lurch as the table crashed to the train's roof. Its legs smashed into short stubs and the securing cables flung loose. He was flung with it, sent screaming off the train to slide like a curling stone on the icy river below. [6] Until he hit a thin patch and smashed through, disappearing into the depths.

The table ground to a halt on its own, but the helicopter had more inertia. Struggling underneath Mikoto felt her feet hit the train's top. She pushed back with all her might, and…

It came to a stop, just seconds before the train rolled into its station.

"Did… Did I do…? Do it?" Wiping her sweat dampened hair from her brow, Mikoto slide wearily out from under the crumpled aircraft to dangle her legs over the edge. "Oh, good."

"Hey, are you alright down there!?" Still panting the girl looked up to see Touma's leaning out dangerously from the downed helicopter, hand shielding his eyes from the mid-day glare as he looked out too high to see her. "Where are you!? MIKO-Egh!?"

There was a beep, and the train slammed down to the rail, the bed of magnetic fields lifting it up suddenly deactivating. He tumbled down to the train's roof, before sliding off over its side to land on the platform at the feet of several dozen petrified onlookers.

As everyone picked themselves up an announcement blared enthusiastically over the station's loud speakers.

"Warning. Maximum weight exceeded. Please return to the ticket booth for refunds, and thank you for choosing 'London Monorail Services': have a pleasant day." The cheery synthetic voice ended abruptly, and the train doors slid smoothly open.

The first few passengers stepped out tentatively, but soon they became a flood. Some were crying while others shouted angrily, but for the most part there was simply mass confusion.

Amidst it all the boy stood up, moaning as they crowd jostled his aching bones. But even as he straightened the bandana still miraculously affixed to his face he smiled, turning his grin up to meet a matching one on Mikoto.

He gave her a weak thumbs-up and she nodded. He could only sigh in relief. _Thank goodness she's all right. Now, how about ever-_

"What just happened?"

"Is it terrorism? Is this an accident?"

"But what stopped; was it those two?"

"It was! I think I saw one flying!"  
"Mom, are they superheroes?"

Their smiles faded as within seconds they had taken centre stage.

As their chatter continued the crowd pressed in close, over half of them reaching into their pockets.

Touma stumbled back to the side of the now defunct train. _What are they doing!? Are they all bad guys, drawing their weapons!?_

But it was worse than he could have expected.

"Oh my God, I've got to show Beth this…"

"Hello, is this the BBC? I've got a story you'll never believe!  
"My YouTube channel is going to be huge after this! Stay still, I need to get you in frame!"

Any hope drained Touma had left drained from his soul. _Cell phones, cell phones everywhere! Never have I been so afraid of cell phones!_ He hid behind his arms but they recordings hemmed him in on all sides.

Until as one they began to spark and fritz, several thrown to the ground as they burnt their owner's hands.

"W-what the Hell!?"

"It shorted out? Now, of all times!?"

"My likes and subscribers, noooo!"

A gloved hand lightly punched his head, and he spun around to look up.

Leaning from above was his partner, hand outstretched. "Let's get outta here!"

"Salvation!" He reached up and she grasped hard, hauling him atop with her.

There they ran, ran, ran, as the first emergency responders arrived on the scene.

When the police finally arrived, the two costumed crusaders described by the chaotic crowd were gone.

!~~~~~~~~!

1:07 P.M., December 28th: Suburban London: An Unknown Subdivision.

"…We're clear. No one followed us that I can sense, anyway."

"What a relief." Touma's felt his paranoia finally wane as Mikoto spoke. He leaned against the alley wall, indifferent to its caked on grime. "I just know we'd get in trouble for damaging that monorail of something."

"That's what you're worried about?" Though the girl had been peering out into the empty lot beside the strip mall they cowered behind, she spared a glance back his way. "I was more concerned with all the cameras… I can't afford to be on the cover of every tabloid in London!"

"Well, you took care of all that, right? Oh, yeah, we'd get in trouble for breaking their cell-phones, too."

"It's nothing a competent electrician couldn't fix. And none of them were really that expensive anyway. Besides, they deserved it! Damn paparazzi…"

Touma noted the way she angrily flicked back her hair and choked off a rich girl joke. Instead he merely swallowed and stretched his sore neck. _At least this time the alley is brightly lit._ [7] _If she does attack me at least I'll see it-_

He didn't see her arm coming as it latched onto his vest, dragging him from his rest towards the alley's mouth. "Come on already! We've still got a long way to go." _Speaking of which…_

It was a pointed problem. Mikoto knew there was no way they were getting onto public transit without being spotted, and buying new clothes in a public place was just as bad. Magnetically flying through the air all the way back would just attract more attention.

 _Maybe I can 'borrow' a car… Does he drive, I wonder? Hmmm… I know he doesn't own-_

"Wait, stop!"

"Eh?" Only half-aware that she had him by the collar, Mikoto hesitantly let got as the Touma straightened from his forced stoop.

"The leader, the Shark! We just let him get away! We've got to go back, right?" His intensity faltered at Mikoto grim smile.

"Away? Did you see him land? The jerk went straight through the ice. And before you ask," She raised a finger to cut of his objection, "I saw two officers leave to go help him, thinking he was a victim thrown clear of the monorail: even if he can walk away from that, I'm pretty sure he's not going far."

"Oh." He stood looking at the girl a minute in surprise before nodding slowly. "Well, I guess that for the best. Maybe some jail time will do him good. It worked for Amazo, after all."

"What? Amazo?" _I figured he was executed or brainwashed or something. Maybe these magic guys aren't_ as _brutal as Academy City after all._ Her own mild surprise fading, Mikoto returned to scanning the street for oncoming traffic as she eyeball as potential ride.

"Yeah, he's in one of the Cathedral's holding cells. He's been telling me all about Miss…" Touma paused before shouting again, into her ear. "AAHH! No no no, I forgot!"

Stumbling forward in shock, Mikoto scrambled back to cover. "K-keep it down! And what now, what's wrong now?"

"The Crown Jewels weren't what that bird was after!"

"What are you… You're saying spoke with a bird?" A sly grin spread across her lips."

"Before you make a 'bird-brain' joke, let me clarify that she's actually a magician."

"I wasn't-!" _How'd he-_

He ignored her, carrying on with one hand on his chin. "She was talking like they were a distraction, and she made off with a handful of rings instead. She could transform in a bird, and could put people to sleep with her song? Maybe." _Those do sound like completely different powers, though. I wonder…_

"You mean… Ack!" She spun and caught him by the collar again to shake him back and forth. "We stopped the wrong one!? After we did so well with the Crown Jewels!? Where did she go!?"

"I don't know! I lost sight of her, you know, when I was plummeting to my death!?"

"I saved you, didn't I!?"

"Doesn't mean I wasn't distracted!"

"That's a fair point! But, DAMN it! Did we really screw up that badly!?" She let the boy go and spun about, ruffling her hair in frustration.

"Ah… But… Thanks, for that."

"E-eh?" Mikoto twisted over her shoulder, uncertain of what she'd heard and surprised when the boy stepped back, hands waving away any potential lightning.

"Uh, you know, good work! With all that helicopter stuff and landing it safely and not killing everyone, you know!?"

"O-oh, well. It wasn't that hard…" _What's he freaking out about? I thought I heard…_ She let her face turn forward again, wondering at the look half-hidden behind his dirty bandana.

Until he shouted again and she stiffened.

"AAAGGGHHH, NOOOOO! I COMPLETELY FORGOOOOOT!"

"S-s-stop that already! My nerves are shot as it is!" Clutching her heart she glanced about, a distressingly large number of passer-by looking around for the sudden commotion. So she was just as startled when he pulled her back into the shaded alley to clutch her by the shoulders.

"The jacket! Misaka, we're so far away! We've got to get back to it!"

She saw the genuine worry in his eyes and faltered, no response she could think of quite adequate. _Is… Is it really that important to him?_ His hands fell heavy but firm upon her, and she could feel his distracting grip through the fabric.

"If anyone sees it they'll definitely steal it! It might already be… N-no, it was really quiet down there, it should be okay…"

She blinked but then sighed wistfully; fighting back most of the blush she'd developed. _Of course it'd be about the money. But still…_ "We can stop by there soon, but shouldn't we get back the Cathedral first?"

"I don't know, I bet they're still going at it-"

"Come on, I want to watch at least a little-"

Distracted, Mikoto pulled away to scout the street one last time, but Touma came along half-way with her, grip harder than he realized. He fell with a small cry, landing just next to her.

She looked down with a combination of mild amusement and concern as he grumbled into the snow cover. "You Okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm-" Touma pushed off the ground as she leaned down to help, but he misplaced his hand.

Imagine Breaker rang out as it brushed her shoe.

It exploded off into shreds of fabric and leather.

"W-W-WHAT THE HELL!?" Mikoto hopped back, blushing furiously as her eyes darted between her stocking-ed foot and his dazed expression. "G-get your hand away from me! I don't want to strip this off THAT badly!"

"…Well that's familiar." He absently played with the scraps as he lay prone, but froze when a shadow was cast over his head.

Mikoto noticed the same, hopping around to see before falling backwards in fright. She landed on something warm as she scrambled to keep her foot dry, pointing an accusatory finger towards the shape blocking the alley's mouth. It was a stage coach, as ornate as it was huge, and leaning back in the front seat was a familiar face.

"Why are you here!?"

The Tour Guide Girl grimaced. "I'd like to know that too. Made it real fun to come get you, you know that?" She waved a hand breezily before shaking her head. "I mean, not only did you force me to track you all the way out to suburbia, but you also managed to destroy the beacon I was following just now. It's a good thing I heard your voice, or you'd be walking back."

"Beacon? What are…" _I'd have noticed a bug on me! …Oh!_ She glanced down at her foot, and wiggled her toes. "The shoe?"

"Yep. Magic, woven into the stitching. The Jean Shop Owner figured it'd be the least likely place he'd manage to touch, said something about his personal experiences with women and I didn't want to ask, honestly." The girl paused a moment, before lowering her voice. "Speaking of… _Him…_."

"Eh? That pervy clothier?"

"What? No, No! K… Imagine Breaker! Where is he?" Now her paranoia was open, as she peered down the alley way behind Mikoto. Until she froze, and ran a hand through the hair under her cap. "N-not that I'm worried, you know! Just that I'm coming for him too, and we couldn't get a tracking spell on him on account of Imagine Breaker, you know? And… A-and…"

The esper stared in confusion as the other girl trailed off into silence. _Why does she look so… Horrified? And why's she glaring at me!?_ Mikoto was unable to say a word under the foreboding pressure in the air.

A shaky finger slowly lifted to point at the esper, who flinched under its judgement. "U…Un… U-under… You!?" The Tour Guide girl fumbled with the words, face turning far redder than what could be blamed on the December air. Finally she threw both hands to her face and hid from the world. "That's just so unfair! How could I be quashed so quickly!?"

"What are you even talking about?"

"…Mmmph..."

… _Why is something mumbling under my…_

Like a rocket she was up and in the air, pushing off buried pipes to land atop the carriage itself. Her face was ashen as the boy pushed up off the ground for the second time, looking around blearily.

"O-oh… W-what? Wha… When did she get here?" He pointed weakly at the Tour Guide Girl. She promptly dove for cover at the side, curled up. "…H-harsh…"

"Ar… A-are you… Okay, do you remember… Anything!?" _Hewasfacedownright!? Doeshehavetotakeresponsibilitynow!? AGH, I don't know how this works!_

"I must have been knocked out for a moment or two… Dreaming about somewhere… Warm?"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP and GET in the coach!" _I don't want to know! I don't want to know!_ She burst with unconscious lightning and he scrambled to his feet, staggering into the coach for cover with a slam. Mikoto launched herself onto the bench beside the other girl and gave her a several solid shakes. "Drive, girl, drive!"

The Tour Guide Girl gave one last shudder, before taking a huge breath.

"FINE! I don't care anyway! I'll just take it out on London's traffic!" She whipped hard and the horses accelerated through the parking, bumping off the curb amid honking horns and strangled cries. "Get off the road, you geriatric old hippies! Royally mad and coming throoouuugghh!"

!~~~~~~~~!

"Well, it's still standing." The Mikoto breathed a heavy sigh as she stared at St. George's peaked towers, before chuckling weakly. "M-more than I can say for my nerves."

"You and me both. I'm not coming back for any amount of overtime." She felt the Tour Guide Girl slump in the seat beside her. "Honestly? You can have him. He's more trouble than I want to think about."

"God, do I know what you… Hey, w-wait!?" The esper was already mid-leap to the sidewalk, so her attempt to turn back failed miserably. Her foot danced in the snow for a second and she yipped in shock, and by the time she recovered the carriage was peeling away.

"Sorry again about the clothes, and good bye!"

And just like that she was gone, racing down London's streets to the dismay of motorists everywhere.

"She's sure in a hurry. I barely got out in time." She became dimly aware of Touma's bashful presence close beside, and she fought back gasping to make a quick joke.

"Y-yeah. I _wonder_ why, huh?"

"I'm choosing to assume that sarcastic tone doesn't mean it's my fault, because I was unconscious and so am guiltless of everything." But he stopped upon reaching the side door through the Cathedral`s outer wall. "Eh… Are we not going in or…?"

Looking back he saw the girl hopping one foot, her attempts to magnetically assist progress floundering. He stared until she met his eye and blushed hard.

"What?" She followed his gaze before shaking her head with sudden force. "No, no no! I-I'm NOT letting you carry me on your back again!" _Not today, my poor heart can't take it! Baby steps, right?_

 _But then again… This is a pretty good… Excuse…_

He watched as she bit her lip and turned her head aside. For a moment, he was torn.

Until he realized he had already stepped forward and scooped her into his arms.

 _…Right hand on her? Check. Is she moving? No. Did she die?_ He peered at her face, and saw her hazel eyes wide with shook. He could tell his were no better, and he broke the stare as his spine shot ramrod straight.

He finally found his tongue. _"_ Ahahaha! …W-what? This wasn't what you wanted? You said, 'no back', right!? Ehe…"

She didn't trust herself to speak.

With nothing more to say Touma went to the door, berating himself as he fumbled with the handle.

 _Well, good thing I'm wearing a bandana. …And that these jeans are thick._ He chocked at his own thoughts, but forced them back down. _Man, if only I was actually knocked out earlier, this'd be much less stressful …All right, maybe just a little less stressful._

As he made his fourth attempt her hand snuck out and depressed the handle for him. The big oaken door swung gently outwards, and suddenly they could hear the roar of battle.

But that was not nearly as distracting as the way he gloved hand brushed his. Both flinched, but finally he swallowed.

"T-thanks… Well, right. Let's go see…"

He stepped through the door and it swung shut behind him.

"How bad the damage… Is?" He blinked slowly. "Where'd they go?"

Sensing his confusion Mikoto tore her eyelids open, and was equally surprised to see nothing much in particular. The Necessarius magicians were still there, albeit visibly tired, and their barrier of crashing waves held firm. But they could nothing but clear sky through its shimmering, translucent walls, despite the singing of steel on steel that pierced the air.

Slowly creeping close they passed the concentrating magicians to peer down and inside.

The front lawn had disappeared. So to had hundreds of tons of earth and stone, several storeys down. A crater had been carved into the earth, forming a near perfect sphere to match the curve of the magical bubble still enclosing the duelling Saints who danced on its surface like sheen on the inside of a soap bubble

A man sized chunk of rock smashed into the barrier not 15 feet away, exploding in splintering shards that disintegrated upon the magical waves. When they regained the courage to peer inside again, they saw Joan and Kanzaki standing on opposite slopes.

The short woman stretched her back mightily, smiling like a school girl as she stared down her opponent. "I can scarcely believe my eyes, but I seem to be running out of boulders!" Her sword slammed down into one of the few remaining outcrops of stone, rumbling the ground as she hewed it from the earth. "I can't believe you've lasted so long! What joy; I haven't had a duel like this in all my life!"

She then swept up her blade in a huge backhand strike and slapped the rock like it was a softball.

And like a softball it flew across the makeshift stadium towards the waiting Kanzaki.

Who at the last second drew her long blade and sliced it in twain, darting through the two halves to speed towards her foe. She had sheathed her blade in the meantime, and using her wires pushed off from the ground to spin around Joan in tight circles at blinding speed.

The Maid of Orleans shifted in her stance as her eyes followed the movements, broadsword raised high. But the impish grin never weakened.

Kanzaki attacked.

There was a blinding flash and several long screeches of metal.

When Touma and Mikoto could see again the Amakusan Saint had withdrawn, sword resheathed to land lightly on her feet across the crater from her now prone foe. Her chest slowly heaved, and several drops of sweat dripped along her long neck.

But amazingly Joan quickly rolled to her feet, shaking her head in astonishment.

"And still I marvel; you're as swift as God's word and nearly as infallible! One mistake and I'd be gutted like a pig! Truly you are blessed, Kanzaki Kaori!"

The taller woman did not answer, her face set in stone.

Joan clearly noticed, for she gave a rueful smile. "…Though it seems we both understand this is nearly done. You are now forced into using an energy conserving style, yes? I miss your fanciful wire-work spells, and the long graceful strokes of your unique weapon." [8]

Kanzaki's frown deepened in step with her stance. "Then we end this. I'll put my all into this next attack, and will not retreat until one of us has been defeated."

"YES!" Laughing almost giddily Joan bounced on the balls of her feet, sword point tracing precise figure-eights in the air despite her jostling motion. "Oh, how I have been waiting for you to say something like that! Please, let us clash!"

"Please take this seriously."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Joan quickly sheathed her sword to raise both hand pleadingly. "Oh, nooo! Please, please do not think I disparage you, t-that was not my intent at all! I'm just so very excited, I've only ever fought two others Saints, and you are more than their match!"

For a moment Kanzaki hesitated, but then she relaxed her pose. "I wasn't implying… I merely want to impress upon you the severity of this battle. I will do my utmost to keep you alive, but it is becoming difficult to avoid debilitating wounds."

"Oh, is that it? You needn't worry about such things."

Kanzaki watched perplexed as Joan re-drew her blade. "I cannot read any fear of battle on your face. Are you truly so fearless?"

For a brief moment, her enemy's happiness faded, and hollowness overtook her eyes. "I know fear, Kanzaki Kaori. I promise you that." But quickly they regained something of their former light, and the Maid of Orleans forced her lips into a weak smile. "I know weakness. But you cannot kill me: I'm protected by God's embrace. After all… I've already died once."

For a moment Kanzaki was too shocked to move.

And in that second of hesitation, the barrier spell was dispersed. A distant noise rang out over the battlefield.

With heaven-empowered ears both Saints immediately discovered the cause, and their heads whipped around to watch the shapes begin to tumble down into the crater. Though Joan made to move Kanzaki was faster.

Her feet slammed into near vertical wall as she caught the two fallen teens, and she bounded down the slope until they had reached nearly level ground.

"O-on my oath, that wasn't me!" Joan waved her hands in obvious distress, but Kanzaki ignored her to glare at the boy rubbing his head.

"Kamijou Touma, what have you done!?"

"My bad… Leaned against the spell… Ow…" He glanced up, his attempt to play it cool dismally transparent. "H-how's it going?"

"Ah! Wait a moment!" Joan leapt across the ruined arena to land heavily beside the three. All braced for a strike, but she merely peered close at Touma and Mikoto, the latter still groggily rubbing her head. "Wait. If you are back, then… Damnation. It is done so soon?" The woman sighed, before smiling bashfully back towards the other Saint. "W-well! I suppose… For now, that is… That this is… Oh, I'm sorry! Good bye!"

Suddenly she flew up towards the crater's edge, back towards the front gates.

"I… What?" Kanzaki half drew her blade in confusion. "Hold a moment! Here, with me-" She scooped up the two teens and followed her out.

But Joan was already

"Troops, **Fall in!** "

In lock step their feet stamped down as one, starry-eyed expressions intact.

"Full **Withdraw**! Follow me now!" The shorter Saint raised her sword aloft, and seemed to glow with a hidden light. Those under her control mirrored the look, but none could take a step before Kanzaki had approached.

"Joan of Arc!" Her shouted challenge went unanswered. "Joan of Arc, do you retreat? Do not think I will just-"

"Retreat? No, no, you've won! Very much, you've won! I yield!"

"P-pardon me?"

"Yes, I couldn't smash through your defense, so today this Cathedral stands. I must go, sadly. My part today is done."

"But… W-wait, I don't- You can't-"

"Parting is such sorrow, I agree, but…" Joan's eyes brightened. "We will meet again, of this I am certain. Until then… O-oh, until then!"

Blushing severely she darted off into the adjoining street, outside of the Cathedral's magical shroud and startling several pedestrians.

And was followed with nearly equal speed by several dozen possessed magicians. They completely disrupted traffic as they leaped into the street and onto a number of low-lying businesses across the street, to disappear from view.

"Wow! That's quick!" Touma gaped in wonder as he dangled from the Saint's quaking grasp, but was abruptly plopped unceremoniously to the ground with Mikoto.

"I will catch them-"

"No, you will not." Kanzaki staggered midstride, and all three spun to see the Archbishop standing lightly beside the ruins of her Cathedral's gate.

"…If I bring them back, Imagine Breaker can-"

"There will come another chance. You are needed elsewhere this evening. And, you are exhausted. You would be sorely tested were Joan of Arc to attack again. We will capture her on the morrow, after the remaining Necessarius agents I've recalled have returned."

Silent throughout her lecture, Kanzaki stood facing the street crowded with anxious civilians.

But her hand finally dropped from her hilt and she wordlessly leapt past the woman, back over the crater and towards the St. George's front door.

"Excellent. Now, GET up off your rears, you lazy sycophants!" Touma and Mikoto were as startled as the remaining Necessarius magicians, and the latter group scrambled at their leader's commanded. "It's time for damage control! Get those civilians inside and stall the authorities while we alter their memories!"

 _Alter memories? …Am I going to get Men in Black'd before I leave!?_ Fuelling the fire of Mikoto's paranoia, the Archbishop turned down to smile at her as if reading her mind.

"A messy task, but sometimes it must be done. As long as the user is well trained, there are rarely any side effects. A certain someone staying with us can attest to that."

Touma stiffened next to her, and the beautiful woman shifted her gaze.

"Oh, and Kamijou-kun… Please, you and Misaka-san rest for today. I'm afraid that there is little point venturing forth again after our last gambit failed."

"W-wait, that reminds me!" Like the others he scrambled to his feet, "The Crown Jewels, they were-"

"A distraction? We are aware." Touma deflated "I personally know the properties and potential symbolism of every article in the royal collection. I knew none of them could be useful to their prophecy, but nonetheless it became clear to me that their operations centred on that facility. Though I did not think they would go so far in disguising their movements as to actually steal the jewels. Or at least attempt to. Regardless, it no longer matters if we stop her attempts to gather the objects. We have lost that option."

"Why didn't you TELL us-"

"Lost that option? What do you mean, lost?" Mikoto's outrage strangled in her throat when the boy interrupted her, but she soon realized what Touma had hit upon.

The Archbishop nodded. "Our spies have finally determined that the criminals hired by Miss Baker have been let go. In other words, we believe that she has recovered all the pieces she needs for her Prophecy."

"Wait, you really mean… She already stolen everything else!?"

"So we believe. She recovered three objects in her raid on our Cathedral, and has claimed four others since you arrived in London. It is not impossible that, before we were altered to her plans, she recovered other the remaining under lesser guard."

"B-but we don't know that, right? You're just inferring that from her dismissing the criminals?"

The woman nodded brusquely at Mikoto's logic. "That is true, but so far the only truly magical objects she has stolen have been the three from our vaults. The rest are merely historical oddities of some value. Why, then, do the rest have to be as valuable or well known as the others? And does it not make sense to seek the simpler target first, assuming they exist?"

Mikoto faltered, and the woman continued with a gentle smile.

"There is no need to fear. Miss Baker can only summon only one ally a night, of this we are certain. We still have several days to act before her work is completed altogether, and there are few ways she can hide from us for long. I am confident that by tomorrow we will have her whereabouts, and will be able to launch a full-scale assault.

"In the meantime, I suggest we all recover our strength."

"W-well… If you say so." But as he dusted off her dirty jeans, she heard her call back over her shoulder, having begun the now circumlocutious circumnavigation to the Cathedral's door. [9]

"And Kamijou-kun? After supper this evening, would you please meet me in my office? Someone will kindly show you the way, I am sure." She gave him a bright smile, before carrying on.

But Touma was not nearly so composed.

"I never get called to offices unless… Am I in trouble? I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"Probably."

"T-that's not reassuring!" He shouted down at the girl, still seated in the rubble scattered around the craters edge. But both quickly calmed as the inevitable dawned upon them.

Mikoto's toes wiggled once unbidden in her tights, but she withdrew her leg under her entirely at his gaze.

"…A-a-ah…

"…All right, hold still-"

"I CAN WALK NO REALLY I'M-"

She silenced the moment she was in his arms.

Rather than speak she studied the hem of her shirt, finger nervously working at its edges as he carried her around the edge.

"…Thank you." Her voice was hardly a whisper.

Touma examined the sky: it was still a very cloudy day. "Yep."

The carried on a little further, before he cleared his throat.

"But, can we go back for our clothes now?"

"…After we get out of these."

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] MEMO: Explain the opening of the vault better?

[2] Basically, picture one of those two man train carts from Road Runner cartoons pulling along a flat cart. And if it's not clear, that's where all the stuff is, loaded onto the long table still.

[3] Look, he's British, all right?

[4] If you're not familiar, some London lines emerge from underground for a kilometre or so. I'm not making it clear exactly where they all are, so just assume we're at one of those points.

[5] Anyone remember that throw-away detail from Chapter 7, when Index was explaining what was replacing many of London's subway lines? It wasn't actually a throw-away detail.

[6] It's rare I get to make this Canadian a reference.

[7] C-c-c-call back joke! (I don't know if pointing them out cheapens them, but I'm doing it anyway. And, though you might not believe me, this will actually be important.)

[8] Small thing, but she's using Battoujutsu, the name of her quick draw attack. Also mentioned are various other techniques she attempted during the off-panel fight (Sorry person who wanted more Saint Duel! I actually expanded this from what I intended as it is for various reasons, but I never planned to have it go on too long. Right now, anyway...).

[9] I WISH I could say I planned this ridiculous pun, but it occurred to me on the spot that having a giant hole in the middle of lawn makes traversal more than a little awkward. Wordplay!

[10] Whoo! Double digit footnotes! This has been one of the longest chapters I've done: I doubt any will match this until near the end of Book 3. But then, I might be wrong… Though I already have plans for that point, who know what I might add?

But that's several months away, at least. Until then, until then. And thanks for sticking with me.


	48. Part 2: Interlude 4

**Greetings from wherever I currently am (I may or may not still be on vacation, and may or may not be coherent enough to remember to update this based on circumstances). We've arrived at the last Interlude of Book 2: We're in the home stretch. But if you think things are going to get a little easier, you might be in for a second thoughts.**

 **What would be the fun in that?**

Extra later note: I had a catastrophic computer failure. Expect delays, and my annoyance at losing 6000 words. Boo.

 **Interlude 4**

1:21 P.M., December 28th: London: A Quiet Suburban Police Station

"What a miserable week it's turned into, hasn't it?"

Officer Wright raised his eyes from his cup of tea as he let it hover near his lips. He peered across his desk to his partner, her head peering through the slanted shades out.

He waited a moment, but just when he thought it safe she continued.

"I mean, all this political nonsense between the big-wigs and the Crown has been a right bother for ages, and all those damned heists have just been making it worse. Almost a civil war out there, and of course aren't we patrolmen stuck in the middle? But let's not forget today! How we all get put on high alert with no bloody explanation, and then it turns out that not only have the Crown Jewels been stolen but the whole bloody mess has gotten dropped on our doorstep! And then there's those costumed oddballs mucking about, and about a million complaints about damaged cellphones which got even louder when I told them we had to keep them as evidence…"

Officer Sharpe let the shades snap back into place, but her temper cooled when she saw her superior's stony face.

"Then again, I s'pose we've got little to whinge [0] about. All things being considered, and all that."

His point well received Officer Wright nodded sagely, returning to his tea.

Until his desk phone rang.

He stared down at the plastic receiver, well aware Officer Sharpe watched curiously.

With melodramatic aplomb he set his drink down on its plastic coaster before reaching to answer.

He grunted interrogatively.

Someone chattered on the other end.

He grunted affirmatively.

The chattering continued.

He grunted with audible resignation and hung up.

And stood up with brisk efficiency, swinging on his coat as he strode through his office door.

"We're going out?" Officer Sharpe quickly caught up to his large frame, forcing her arm through a recalcitrant sleeve of her blazer. "What's the beat?"

"Escort."

"Wait, escort duty? Today? Who?"

"That man we pulled out of the river. Somebody downtown claims he's important. We're to take him down."

"No. Really?" That threw the woman, but she quickly recovered. "But we've got nothing on him, he's just a regular bloke. Only reason we held him for questioning at all was for all that ranting and raving he did when we first fished him out. Been quite civil since, really, once he cooled… Well, warmed up. It's odd we can't find any official records on him quite yet, but that's not illegal, _per se_."

He shrugged dismissively. "Not our call. Get the car started?"

She eyed the big man for a moment, noticing his carefully steeled gaze. But he was grateful when she merely nodded. "…Rightio." She zipped down a side-hall while he stopped in their station's solitary holding cell.

There he took a minute to collect his thoughts and mask his unease, before unlocking the steel door and pushing it inwards.

Sitting inside on a wide bench was a tall, lanky fellow. He was wrapped in several thick towels, and sipping on his own cup of tea as he looked up.

"Ah, hello again, Officer… Wright, was it? I should thank you again for your timely assistance, and for this lovely warm drink. It does a body good."

The large patrolman nodded solemnly, "It's quite all right, sir. Doing our duty."

"Yes, and quite well. And speaking of quite well, I seem to have regained some life." The temporary prisoner stood up, shedding his layers of towel. "Perhaps I could be seeing myself out, now? After all, I've had my 'one call', and my ride is on the way."

Officer Wright squinted at the charming smile, feeling a lump in his throat that just wouldn't go away. "Sorry, Mister…" He had to search his memory a moment. "…Morris, but we can't let you just yet. You're wanted down-town. For more questioning."

"Oh? Me? But I already told you everything." His face was the very picture of innocence, until suddenly he grinned. "Ah, I see. I have a friend in the department downtown, you see, in Central. Likely having a cheeky little joke." He outstretched both arms, mug of tea still in hand. "Very well, sir. Book me."

"…I didn't say you were to be cuffed."

The Shark didn't miss a beat. "Well, figures. Makes this much less satisfying."

He lurched and tea sprayed forth, catching the officer in the eyes. And as the man reeled back he felt a hand rush up beside his head.

It cracked his skull into the door-frame with a sickening crunch, and the Shark let his victim slide down in a daze.

He hit him twice more before dragging the unconscious body inside.

"Hey? Hey, what was that!?"

The Shark ignored the shouting, wrapping one fallen towel around his torso and another around his off-hand before reliving the fallen patrolman of his firearm.

When the first cop rounded the short hall, he didn't even have the time to feel the shots pounding into his chest.

Stepping confidently over the next body out of his cell, the criminal waited a moment as the person sneaking up behind him to get closer.

He spun in time to catch the baton on his padded arm, firing two rounds in quick succession to the surprised officer's stomach.

A taser's prong shot out from an unnoticed open office into the side of his chest. The woman crouching behind a desk on the other end of the two wires pulled the trigger.

But though it crackled and sparked ominously, the Shark merely let his towel slide loose, too thick for the taser to penetrate. He fired two shots through her thin desk, and the woman behind it dropped.

He walked over, scooping up the smouldering towel as he did. Peering around the now empty room he eventually sighed in satisfaction.

"Finally, something goes right. There you are."

He pulled out his long overcoat from the Evidence bin, tossing in the now blazing towel as trade to join the pile of phones and cameras. He added several sheaths of paper to the fire before strolling out of the room and station entirely.

Inside the blaze he could hear a woman's distant cry of panic, but he paid it no heed. Smoke curled from the creases of the building's closed windows as he stepped into the waiting car, tossing aside his used firearm.

He slid into the empty seat next to the Accountant; the little man poring over his ledger. As their ride pulled away he spoke over the sound of his scribbling pencil.

"I see that our original arrangements to have you intercepted en-route were unnecessary. I shall send for the clean-up crew and tally the cost of replacing this vehicle and registration, sir. In the meantime, I have some data here that-"

"Don't bother." The swiftly scratching pencil froze. "Let 'em suffer. I want 'em to know. Let 'em all know. Time to live up to my name. Too many situations I've been in, making me hold back."

The Accountant glanced up at the Shark, who was staring out the window into the street. They had already past the point of the chaos, and the pedestrians were going about in blissful ignorance. He watched them walk past with invisible expression.

"…Sir, unless I am mistaken you gave them your public persona. And from the looks of things, some might even live. Are you certain?"

"Yeah."

For a minute the car drove on.

"You want to know why.

"Well, I'll tell you. I've had it. No more secretive stuff. No more. I'm tired of not being known. Not being known is what got me into all this in the first place.

"No, it's time to do something. Something big. The time's ripe for some chaos.

"Can you feel it? I can. There's something going on in London. This city is reeling from something, and it's all coming to a head. The police are up to their elbows in ****, for the last few months there's been all these strange goings-on, and now there are super-powered freaks out and about? The order is collapsing, I can tell you. And I want in on whatever's taking its place. I'm not going to be on the outskirts any more.

"There's never gonna be a better time. They're going to think I'm running, after a failure like that. People think I'm down, think I'm out? Good. I'll show 'em.

"We're going to make our move. Pull in every favour, blow every dime. We've got dirt on the politicians and police, we've got info on this 'Miss Baker' or whoever the Hell she and her magic wierdo's really are. And now there's strange **** happening around churches of all places? Groups of people appearing from nowhere, leaping around like frogs? And then a buncha nuns rounding up the witnesses? My man following that armoured lady barely got away to report to me. It's madness, I tell ya.

"But that's fine. I'm the King of Madness. I've seen my share of strange stuff. Things you wouldn't believe. I can adapt. I can float to the top.

"And I want revenge. I was. THIS. CLOSE. Everything I'd been working towards, these past two years. And who knows where they are now!? What new vault they've got, that I don't know anything about!?"

The gentle drumming of his fingers on the armrest had ceased a moment, but slowly the hand unclenched.

"…We're gonna hit 'em where it hurts. Start some trouble, then stab 'em in the gut. The whole damn City, the Country, I don't care anymore. Now one's going to stop me, weirdo's or otherwise.

"We're going to do something so outrageous they'll be begging me to take the Jewels and run.

"Because it doesn't matter how magic you are. All it takes is the right push, and everyone's your puppet."

There was a long pause, as the Shark caught his breath. But he gaze never left the city street.

The Accountant sighed.

He made two broad strokes with his pencil, crossing out a name, before he set it aside.

"…If you insist, sir."

!~~~~~~~~!

7:21 P.M., December 28th: London: St. George's Cathedral: Guest Room 1

Mikoto lay on her belly, feet idly kicking the air as she dangled the mask of her one-time costume by its string. It spun gently over the lip of her bed.

 _I don't know if this one is better than the one from Westfield because it looks cuter, or worse because it looks cuter._ Finally she sighed. _Still, I'll hang onto it. Like I said, it might be useful… Maybe…_

Though Touma had ditched his costume at the first opportunity he noticed Mikoto repacking up her own with surprising care. And despite all her protests, he also guessed the reason why.

While he had made several teasing references to such during dinner, on the whole it was not such an embarrassing affair. Though the atmosphere was still muted compared to the boisterous meals of days past, they had regaled Lessar and Itsuwa with their tale of derring-do. It was enough to liven the mood a little, and enjoy even more his increasingly pleasant company.

"Hmmm…" She was hardly aware of her hum of satisfaction until Lessar spoke up across the room.

"Glad you two love-birds had a good time."

The mask slipped from her fingers. "K-kh… H-hey!" She shot a dour look, but the magician just grinned.

"Don't be like that. Really, I'm just happy they had me out on field work when they needed help for that barrier spell I heard about. As boring as it is running around sending instructions, it beats standing for hours in the cold."

"Instructions?"

Lessar sighed at the question, cleaning her ear distractedly. "It's not too big a deal, but remember how I said a while back there's a lot of chaos in the English government right now, between us and the normal authority? It's not getting better. Basically, Boss Lady had New Light go around and warn a bunch of the cabals and affiliated magicians in town to lay low for a bit."

"They're not the ones causing all the crime right now, are they? Like the news said?"

"Eh? You were listening? I though you were busy day-dreaming." But Lessar continued despite Mitoko's fuming. "But nah, the sudden spike today of break-ins and sabotage isn't magical, though I bet not everyone believes that. The upper police figures, our branch, and the knights are at each other's throats; a lot of people refuse to believe you and Imagine Breaker weren't actually magicians, horning in on civic defence stuff."

"Even if Kamijou-kun and Misaka-san aren't magicians," Itsuwa finally interject, turning on the couch were she sat beside Othinus and Index. "They were sent by Necessarius."

"Well, yeah, but there was a magician involved with the heist, right?"

"I don't think we knew that at the time…"

"Still, doesn't matter! We can just claim we did!" Lessar flopped back in her desk chair, letting both feet rest heavily atop her best. "Besides, if they can't stop a simple heist, than maybe we ought to! Stupid *******s."

"That wasn't very simple, honestly." Both magicians looked back at Mikoto as the esper gathered up her dropped mask. "I mean, they had a lot of backing from someone and some really good hardware. Military grade weapons, and they knew everything about the place."

"Well, it was clearly all part of that Miss Baker or whoever's plan. It's not like-"

"Silence! The commercial break has ended."

Lessar rolled her eyes, but when she turned to argue with Othinus about her attitude she gaped a second at the resumed news broadcast.

"Hey, wait… Esper, is that you?"

The girl dove from her bed, latching onto the back of the couch so fast it nearly tossed the Magic-God to the floor.

"…Ooooh nooo… I thought I got them all!? Who got video of us!?"

The shaky video showed a clip of their flight through the city, a helicopter hauling a large table up between low-rise office buildings as two figures fought atop it. One was a girl, clearly dressed in bright blue, and her acrobatic movements up and around the battle hinted at abnormal abilities.

The cowboy zipping through the air practically screamed it aloud, darting around to pummel the escaping vehicle like some improbable superman.

"Damn it, I wasn't even THINKING about cameras then!" But as Mikoto ran her hands through her hair, Lessar strolled up beside her.

"So he wasn't fibbing about flying all around? Drat." She slipped Itsuwa a five pound note over the couch's back.

"You've got to trust Kamijou-kun more, Lessar-san." She pulled it crisp before folding it into a small purse. "This can go towards my nice-handtowel-gift fund!"

Mikoto ignored the exchange, desperate to distance herself from the report. She fled to the bathroom, swinging open the door to splash water on her face.

"Uhm, excuse me."

Mikoto turned to see Index looking perplexed, towel wrapped around her as she sat on the bathtub's edge.

"O-ops, sorry! Didn't think, I'll go." But the nun waved away the esper's apology with a shrug.

"No, it's fine. Honestly, I was more worried it was Touma. Happens a lot."

Mikoto snorted aloud in amusement, unable to help herself. "Gosh, I can imagine." But she hesitated before leaving. Instead she leaned back a little against the counter top. "…How do you manage to live with him? I-I mean, given how… He is, and all."

"Oh, it's not that bad." Index played with her hair as she spoke, thoughtfully tracing weaves through its long strands. "It's actually pretty nice. He feeds me a lot, and looks out for me. Even if he's stupid enough that I just need to punish him a lot, I know he tries his best."

Slowly at first, but then more firmly, Mikoto nodded. "I can see that." _Heck, I feel the same way most of the time. Minus the feeding part, I guess._

"Touma told me a lot of things about you, Short-hair."

 _What._ "O-oh?"

"Like how you always call him Idiot, and he calls you Biri-biri because of the lightning you do." Index aped his usual gesture, waving her fingers just Touma did.

"Well, he IS an idiot."

"He also said you were super attached to cute things, and weren't very mature or womanly. So I was surprised when you mentioned The Nutcracker, or when you got him that coat." [1]

"k-kh… He did, did he!?"

"Touma also said you were terrifying, dangerous, and likely to shock people at the drop of a hat."

 _He's dead. Where is he? He's dead._ Mikoto seethed, already planning her vengeance, but Index paused.

"…But I don't know any more." The little nun sat pensive for another few moments, before shaking her head. "Touma usually runs away from dangerous things, so when he brought you back to the Kamijou residence…" She looked up, her bright innocent smile burning away the thunderclouds of Mikoto's mind. "...I decided I didn't have to be worried. If he trusts you, so do I."

"Oh." Unsure of her own feelings, Mikoto could only shakily nod. Abruptly she spun and left the bathroom, starling Itsuwa with the speed of her passage.

"Misaka-san? Where are you going?"

"Looking for him. I'll be back."

"What? What're we doing?" Lessar looked around over her shoulder, but was distracted by the sound of running water. "Wait, don't use up all the hot water again! How do you keep getting in there first!?"

As the bathroom was stormed for the second time that night, Mikoto left in relative peace, a certain someone solidly in her thoughts.

!~~~~~~~~!

7:37 P.M., December 28th: London: Westminister Burrough, West End Ward: Outside A Rundown Tenement Building

The elderly woman took a drag on her cigarette as she casually observed her neighbour's plight. He was fumbling with his keys by his door, a bag of groceries under each arm. She liked the fellow well enough, having lived by him and his family for several decades. While that was not enough for her to offer to help she would certainly not mind a little conversation.

So she pushed her walker up several more feet until she stopped just behind him, smiling with a yellow toothy grin. "Well 'allo there, Mr. Bachar. You're out and about late, aren't you now?"

As he tried to turn and answer, the man dropped his bags. Cursing, he knelt to grab them.

"No, no need… No need, I'm fine…"

"Wasn't going to help, love." She took another lungful of smoke, exhaling it into the night as he recovered. "Quite a bit you've got there. And is that wine? Looks quite nice."

His eyes flitted away. "Just cheap stuff, really... A-anyway, it's not so late for groceries. You're out, Miss Weatherly."

"I always take a walk before bed. Good for my lungs." She inhaled her cigarette until it was a brightly burning stub, tossing it aside into the road. "What's got you so antsy, son'ee?"

Despite his obvious tension, he was able to sigh at that. "You know I'm just 15 years your junior, Miss Weatherly."

She ignored him to gaze out into the street, scanning the scattered shrouded figures half-lit by dim and dying street lights. There were dressed in rough leather coats, some standing quietly, others leaning against posts. She caught several of their eyes, most of whom stared her down.

Miss Weatherly did not approve.

"Ah, yes. Must be those damn hooligans. They certainly don't live around here, but they're staring to act like they own the place." She spat, and flipped the lot the bird. "Since when did West End become such a hive of villainy? In me mam's day, I tell you, she'd nought have had a lick of this, nosirree."

She shook her head at their light guffaws, and turned back to the middle-aged man.

"Or mayhaps it's that woman shacking up with you that's the bother."

Though he finally got the door open Mr. Bachar flinched, bags nearly falling again.

"She just…A n-nanny! A nanny, is all."

"Hmm, right. If that's what you kids are calling it these days." But as she spun her walker, she twisted around to give the face peeking behind his door one last bit of advice. "I'll be frank, though. I don't like her much. You could do better, nanny or not. Blasted American women, acting like they're Bloody Mary, Queen of the Scots…"

"…G-good night, Miss Weatherly."

He pulled the door shut, grateful for the end of his interrogation.

His home was silent. It usually was, ever since the woman had invaded his home and his family. It seemed far longer than the handful of days it had been.

The night she arrived she had knocked politely enough. But what she told him when he had sat her down at his table had been anything but friendly. And when she made her demands he had caved immediately. He would let her into his home, and hide her.

Though they clearly had not believed his hurried explanation, that she was a distant relative coming for the holidays to help out that he might work, his children had dutifully obeyed his order to obey her in turn. None of the three remaining at home were old enough to understand the worry they sensed in their father. Or recognize the fear for what it was.

"Bachar."

He shrunk, bags rattling in his grip. Turning he saw his unwelcome house-guest, greying hair tied back into a severe bun. She was leaning against a doorway, one of his few pieces of crystal dangling loosely in her thin hand filled with the last of his Christmas wine. She pushed away, the false smile playing over her lightly wrinkled face completely transparent to her host. She fell heavily into his old recliner, smoothing out a crease in her suit pant with one hand.

"I see you had another run in with that witch down the block."

Mr. Bachar frowned. It seemed to please the woman, who chuckled in her chair.

"What's wrong? Poor choice of words?" She clucked in patronizing rebuke. "Now now, don't get too upset. I've got friends nearby, as well you know. I don't want this to turn ugly."

"…Then what do you want?" For a moment, his anger overcame fear for his children, but the woman was indifferent to both.

"For now, just your hospitality. I've given up a lot to get this far, but I do miss the finer things in life."

She twisted around the cup she held in her hands, letting its contents slosh to entertain her.

"I know your secrets, like I know your daughter's. I know that you haven't got her skill any more than I do, or I suppose I'd be dead by now! And we both know that the Powers That Be will come crashing down on your pretty little lie here if you try to go to them for help. So if you're thinking that..."

"I-I'm not planning anything. Just please, don't… My children, the-"

"It's a good thing the kids have holidays," She interrupted, before taking a sip, "It would make it hard to explain their absence from school. And don't worry, I have no intention of harming them. They've been polite enough for the most part; typical British attitude. Even your eldest, though she can be… Difficult to work with."

The man felt the blood drain from his face, and she laughed at the reaction.

"Oh, but she's been most invaluable. I found far better use for her than you ever did. So don't worry," She drained her glass, standing and dropping it into one of his laden bags. "You just let Nanny Rosslyn do her business, and everything will turn out fine. For you and your family, for me, and for the world."

!~~~~~~~~!

8:04 P.M., December 28th: London: St. George's Cathedral: Underground Tunnels

"Geez… I've been down here for ages now."

The sound of her voice echoing down the stone halls did little to comfort the esper. She wasn't afraid, though her powers couldn't reach far in any direction, and there was little metal to sense where she could. But even so, silence was not something that bothered her much any more.

Instead she was focused on her failure.

 _How hard can it be to find one Idiot?_

She took yet another confident turn, and this time was finally rewarded by a distant voice. It sounds male enough, but pushing her power out she noticed the metal bars on his door and paused.

 _Well, there's someone in there, but would they really lock him in a jail cell? …Actually, I'd better check. Just to be safe, right? Now I've got a good excuse!_

She crept closer, nerves suddenly overcoming her calm. But as she traversed the long thin hall of identical doors, she quickly realized her first hope had been mistaken.

"…And gather round! Gather round, watchers, and be Amazed! Witness the power, the overwhelming skill, of...? U-uh, hello?" The man paused in the middle of his rehearsal, turning away from his audience of a single candle to stare in confusion at Mikoto.

"Ah. Amazo. Thought it was you."

The magician squinted in the poor lighting, reaching for his candle before he made the mental connection. "Oh! Its the other one. The 'Rail-Gun", or so you said? I don't remember too well after you lit me up like a Christmas tree." Though Amazo joked easily, he didn't even earn a smirk.

"Misaka. Misaka Mikoto. Though I don't know why I'm bothering to correct you."

"Yes, well, I'm certainly in no position to split hairs." He gestured at his accommodations with a theatrical sigh, before sitting back heavily on his rough bunk in mock distress.

"You don't seem very upset by all this."

"Ah, it's likely for the best. Though I would much rather be a free man, I've honestly needed the time to reflect." He paused a moment, suddenly cautious.

Mikoto's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "…Anyway. Have you seen… Seen him?"

"Seen? Seen who?" He peered at her innocently. "I don't get too many visitors, but you might have to provide more. Perhaps… a name?"

She turned away a second and hid her face behind a hand, but eventually took a deep breath.

"…Kamijou. Touma."

"Ah! Yes, him." Amazo nodded, seemingly pleased. "Not tonight, I'm afraid. Though it might still be a touch early…"

"Drat. Fine. Thanks anyway, I… Wait, not tonight?"

"Indeed. I was hoping you'd seen him, actually. We've come to something of an arrangement."

"Really?" _What king of deal has that Idiot been getting up to? And with this clown, no less._ She nearly posed the question in such direct terms, but an idea sprang to mind first. "Actually, never-mind. You tell me, and then I'll pass along what you want him to hear."

She thought her ploy a little transparent, but Amazo simply nodded. "Well, that might do. I expect he'll miss my oratorical skill, but if he cannot be obtained this will suffice. Please, make your comfortable, that's right."

As Mikoto leaned back against the door across from his, Amazo stood up and strode to his barred window. He held his candle low, so that it played mysteriously across his stark features.

"…When I last told this tale, it was to Kamijou Touma, so let me summarize. I spoke of my past, my childhood, youth and adolescence as a magician. Of my education, my fame, and my downfall. And most importantly, of how I met my apprentice and protégé. The woman you know as Miss Baker.

"She had come to my rescue in my hour of need, and in return I trained her in all the Magic and stagecraft I knew. She rescued me from my pit of despair and obscurity, and gave me a fire to overcome and-"

"Can we maybe do this quicker?" He choked a second, staring at her tapping foot. "I am still looking for him."

"…Fine. Spoilsport. First you ruin my plot, and now my fun."

"Ahem."

"ONE night! Or day. Regardless, I was working in our Boston studio when she came to me, suggesting the Dianoid heist."

"She? It was her idea?"

"Am I telling a story or not?" Though only mildly embarassed, Mikoto waved him on. "Thank you. I remember then that I was just glad to see her looking so lively. For a time, she had cooled even by her standards. But thinking back, I feel there was a look of distinct unease about her, as if something were eating at her calm. Perhaps she had some premonition of the trouble she had brought to our doorstep.

"She told me of something she had discovered. That the men who had ruined me were now vulnerable, and in moving to, of all places, Academy City. I was surprised, and then amused. Though not an overly petty man, I thought it served them right. I told her as much, and she nodded.

"Then she told me there was a chance to get revenge.

"I hesitated, unsure of her meaning. I didn't want to kill them, and certainly had no desire to fly across the world in the attempt. I was just starting to regain my fame, and didn't much want to jeopardize my, our, second chance. The Amazing Amazo had yet to return under his former stage name, and I was planning to begin shows under that label in the new year.

"But Catherine was insistent. She had discovered their situation was precarious, and that there was an ally who would assist us.

"She admitted, without a trace of regret, 'I've spoken to someone.'

"At length she explained. I discovered that, contravening the basic rules of magic and self-interest, that she had accepted contact with an outsider. A businesswoman, named Rosslyn Roosevelt, had apparently deduced the existence of strange goings on since the end of World War III and that Magic God affair. She had been searching for some way to profit on this all, as her type is wont to do, eventually catching Catherine's attention as she blundered about interviewing cranks and scaring away honest magicians. And that when they met, this businesswoman had made an offer.

"In exchange for our services, she would fund and supply a magical operation in Academy City. Either way, her plan was to drive them from business. She would reap the benefits of their plunging stock, and I would get my just deserts. She felt that those who had wronged me were a fundamental threat to her business interests: I thought it at the time such a petty excuse, but with hindsight I see I was no better.

"I knew well that most magical groups had accepted the fundamental divide between science and magic drawn by treaty. But even among the Protestants of America, I was fairly open-minded. I regret now that I had more concerns about becoming the target of more zealous groups than I did moral qualms about the crime itself."

"Catherine laboured to convince me, aware that I was working upon a large comeback show, incorporating some under-appreciated Christmas symbolism into my Magic. I saw at once how simple a matter it would be to modify it to this new purpose.

"But there was a catch. To undertake this mission, I would have to sacrifice the prestige of up my current persona. After all, I would need to convince them to let me perform inside their building, the Dianoid. Going in as a nobody would not possibly suit their needs.

"And of course, it would be my old name: why would they possibly let in a man they had tried to shut down? That flaw aside, I hated the thought of losing the name I had just rebuilt to respectability.

"Yet Catherine refused to let the plan die. She continued to argue, to show how easy it would be to get allies, how safe; how little a city of science would suspect a magical incursion. That it would be quite possible to erase all traces of our activity, in both our associates mind and our victims. She said a name was nothing to regret losing.

"Finally I presented her an ultimatum. I would submit an application for us to perform on their holiday slate of entertainment. I decided that, should they accept 'the Amazing Amazo', I would consider the attempt.

"And of course they did. Apparently the fools didn't even remember who I was, the man they had nearly sent to ruin.

"If nothing else, that alone settled the matter. I was set on destroying them and their legacy once and for all. Just as they did to me."

He finished lamely, not even needing Mikoto's visible condescension to sigh with remorse.

"I suppose revenge truly is a pointless motive. But there you have it. This is the end of the story I was telling your partner. Despite it all, I'm glad it's off my chest."

Finally, Mikoto said, "Is that what you wanted to tell him?"

"The boy already knows the important part. I asked him to help her overcome whatever darkness drives her. As she did for me."

The thought made the girl frown, and she wasn't certain why. To mask the indecision she stretched. "So, what now? Are we done"

"I... Don't know." He leaned both arms on his shallow window sill, resting his chin. "I don't know how much more a role I can still play. But whatever I can do for her, I will."

Suddenly Mikoto understood her discomfit, and she stared piercingly at Amazo. For a second he was perturbed, but then he nodded.

"I can see what you're thinking. You think that I was used, charmed into being a useful tool, for some long planned purpose. I suspected that early after I met her, and still do. Why else would such a woman randomly come into my life?"

Though his face was full of pain Mikoto could not look away.

"And yet..." She saw something in his eyes, a spark that gently burned. "I refuse to believe the Catherine I know is acting selfishly, or to deliberately harm others. I am certain there is something behind her actions, something she believes in. Her iron will would demand no less." His confident smile was somehow familiar to the girl. "She is a perfect actor, but it is hard to fool a stage magician."

"...Right." _I want to be suspicious. I need to be suspicious. I can't just take him at face value._ She looked at the man's open face, and sighed. _Damn it. That Idiot is rubbing off on me. I can't be this gullible._ Finally she said, "I'll pass it along. Once I find him, that is..."

"Oh, his room is somewhere along the way you came. Good luck, Miss Misaka Mikoto. And thank you for listening."

"Didn't do it for you."

He smiled at her retreating back, shouting after her, "All the same! Thank you, and good luck!"

 _Geez. Stop being so friendly! What an unexpected problem._

Eventually his laughter faded, and the halls were just as uninviting as before.

 _And I still haven't found him. Where the heck is he?_

!

8:28 P.M., December 28th: London: St. George's Cathedral:

 _I've got a real bad feeling._

Though he was alone in her office, Touma could not shake his unease. He had already checked the windows three times for mysterious forms that might be perched, brooding and ready to attack, or for magic spells brewing in the distant night sky.

But there was nothing. Nothing to set off his nerves, except for the simple opulence of Archbishop Laura Stewart's massive office's. He marvelled again at the plush carpet, roaring fireplace, and large windows. They overlooked several rooftops and courtyards, beautifully layered in snow and not a single enemy magician.

"Damn it, Kamijou-san, get a grip!" He forced himself away from the outdoors. _It's not like I'm in her bedroom, waiting for her or something._

"Admiring the view?"

"G-gah!?" The beautiful woman was behind him, and altogether to close. She wore a short simple white dress, but on her it was the finest raiment. If she had not dipped aside with careful grace he would knocked hard into her. _And then I'd be drenched in whatever she's carrying in those steaming mugs, or tangled up in her chest. Or both!_ He lost his tongue as his fever dreams took hold, but she smiled regardless and held out her tray.

"Hot chocolate?" For lack of a better response he took on, smiling meekly, and she her tray aside to get her own. As she did she sat strode over to her door again, closing it firmly. "Sorry to keep you waiting so long. I had some unexpected problems to take care of; you must know that nothing short of a catastrophe would keep me long from a favoured guest.

"O-oh, it wasn't that long." _Why isn't there a clock in here? It did kinda feel like half-an hour or more..._ _Wait, why is she smiling like that?_

"Ever the gentleman, aren't we?" He could almost feel her smile through her back, but he jumped when he heard the thunk of an old lock falling into place. She slipped the key somewhere unseen in bodice and turned back, forcing him to glance away. The door she had just sealed tight was huge and elaborate, endless figures carved precisely in no-doubt meaningful configurations.

"N-no, not really: I mean, I try to be a good guy, but I AM a... Y-you know, nevermind..." _Man, this is getting uncomfortable._ He almost took a sip of his drink, but some half-suspected instinct made him wait. "Say, what did you want to talk-"

"Tell, me, Kamijou-kun, are you single?"

Despite his preparation he staggered. He managed to keep all his chocolate in cup, but it was a near thing.

"M-m-mm? Uhm, w-well, there's only one of me, so I guess so! Eheh…" _Yep, good job me, making it awkward already-_

"No no, you silly boy. I mean do you have a girlfriend?"

The blood froze in his veins, but slowly he shook his head.

"Well, do you want one?"

"Eehehehehe... W-what boy my age d-doesn't want-"

"Oh, good. Then this will be easy."

"Uhm, what will be? Ma'am. Easy, I mean." _Crap, gotta remember, she's my host, be polite…_

"Oh-ho, come now. How many times must I tell you? My name is Laura."

"…O-okay then... Laura…?" _Well, I was right. This is already weird._

"That's good. Now, give me a child, Kamijou-kun."

"…What? I don't get-" _I'm not holding any-_

"Make love to me."

!~~~~~~~~!

"Oh dear. Did I use the wrong phrasing? And I worked so hard to practice less formal Japanese for your arrival..."

Touma woke in fits and starts, just barely making out her words. His rear hurt from what he suspected must be a sudden fall, but that was low on his list of concerns.

He was lying on his back on her floor, but his neck was curiously raised. It sat atop something warm and soft, and when the woman voice shifted his pillow shifted in kind. He soon realized they must be her legs, and promptly discarded the thought.

What was more pressing was the woman looking down on him. Her hair cascaded around his head on all sides as she leaned over in concern, flickering in the radiant warmth of the fireplace's light.

He pushed himself through it like Moses parting the Red Sea, scrambling away with a similarly coloured face to open up some distance. Behind him the woman tilted.

"Are you all-right?"

"Y-yeah! Yeah, I'm fine!" He grasped for his cup, which having miraculously on its bottom still contained a trickle of luke-warm chocolate. He let it serve as a distract as he stood and faced the Archbishop returned to perch atop her desk. "Yeah, no, that happens sometimes. Guess I tripped! Sorry, I missed whatever you said when you misspoke, could you repeat-"

"I want to bear your child."

Sputtering out what remained of his hot chocolate, Touma anxiously turned away from the mad woman in front of him, utterly failing to hide the ballistic trajectories of his thoughts as his frame twitched with bottled up tension. _D-did she…!? She didn't. But… What else- This doesn't make- It's been THREE DAYS FOR GOODNESS SAKE-_

"Is my Japanese as bad as all that, Kamijou-kun?" Still sitting on her massive desk, the woman known as Archbishop Laura uncrossed her legs, which dangled alluring in her dress as she was lost in thought. A finger posed on her lips, she pouted in innocent confusion. "Perhaps I used… No, no, I'm sure I said it right. Perhaps it's just you didn't hear me."

"A-a-a-ah, ahaha, y-yeah, that must be it." Grasping whatever salvation was offered, the boy enthusiastically nodded. He placed his now pointless mug on a side table near the room's largest window. "I guess I've gotten some snow in my ear or something, there's just no way-"

"I'm asking you to have sex me."

"…Y-yeah, hold on, sorry, it's still there! Let me j-just work it out…" Though he dug as finger into his ear, his doubts were secretly beginning to wear thin. _No no no, she really is talking ab-ab-about that… I-is that door still locked? Please, just once, give me an explosion in the distance, a mysterious attacker, ANYTHING!_

As he continued his useless efforts to clean his perfectly empty ears, Touma dared to carefully meet her gaze. Head tilted sideways, she gazed at him with the baffled expression of a dog whose owner just spelt the word 'walk' out loud. When she realized he was watching, she smiled broadly, and the boy could only blush crimson and avert his eyes.

The Archbishop laughed merrily and before standing. As she spoke, she slowly strolled towards Touma, who took a sudden and intense interest in the art hanging around office.

"I think I understand now. You do hear me, but you're just confused. Let me explain. English clergy can get married and have children, unlike other orthodoxies. We believe the family to be a vital part of a balanced religious life. Though some may find such in the sanctified halls of churches alone, we don't demand that from our priests and nuns."

"Oh that's very nice and forward thinking and modern but still I _really_ have to ask-"

"Why you? Isn't it obvious?" Touma felt a gentle warmth on his wrist, and tensed as Imagine Breaker was brought up from his side. Freezing, he could stare wide-eyed as the Archbishop brought it up to her chest. "You have a gift, and much more besides. I've a duty to strengthen my church as much as possible, and any child of yours has at least the potential of usefulness."

"T-that's-"

"Unfeeling? Don't think that, please." She demurely tossed her eyes aside, blushing now for the first time. In wonderment Touma watched on, vaguely aware of how comfortable his hand was becoming. "I might have to think those calculating things, but I don't _have_ to act on them. I admire you for many reasons, and would be honoured to lie with you without any obligations. On either of our parts."

"Ob-ob-obligi-gi-gi...?"

"I wouldn't expect you to help or provide for the child: but he or she would have all my love, and the best life I could possibly arrange. Best of all, he or she would have a purpose in life that so few do: helping others. I have never thought seriously about having children until I learned about you and your actions, the role-model you would be for them and the potential power they might share. I don't ask for more than a night, and I will make sure you don't regret it." She smiled slyly and pressed closed.

He inched away. "That's not-"

"Ah… So you're one of those types who would only have sex for love? Again, you reveal new depths, Kamijou-kun." She squeezed his hand tightly. "I understand. Then let this be my official declaration of intent."

"W-what? Intent!? What!?"

"To seduce you, silly boy." She bopped him on the nose playfully with his own hand before returning it to her chest. Now he could feel her beating heart, and was frazzled all the more for it. "I've heard that I might even be your type, from a friend of yours. You do like 'Onee-chan' girls, don't you?"

 _TSUCHIMIKADO! I'M GOING TO-_ As a momentary target for his frustrations presented itself, Touma's wrath went ignored.

"And I'll use ALL my assets to try and persuade you. I respect that my body may not be enough, and will court you as you desire. Just give me the chance to be around you, to show you what I am like, my personality; my strengths and weaknesses. I of course fully respect that you are free to not choose me in the end, or agree to my request, but you must acknowledge that I am trying to get close to you, to love you."

"A-ah, ah, but… But…"

'Well? Acknowledge it."

"Ah-ah..."

"What's wrong? Do you think I'm lying? Teasing you?"

"Agh! I-I didn't say-"

"Do you suspect me? Think I am an enemy, trying to trick you?"

"No no no! I-"

"Or do you think I am just manipulating you, treating you like meat? Look into my eyes, Kamijou-kun, and see what honesty is."

He did so, finally meeting her gaze. And he could not see a single shred of deceit. As far as he could tell, she believed every word she had spoken.

"I'm not lying, and you know it. I truly do, for all these reasons, want to bear your child. Is it really so much for you to sacrifice, to do this? Is it truly so hard? It's all too easy. I can show you. iIf you'll let me..."

Though the invitation couldn't be clearer, and the earnestness of her approach more understood, Touma remained still.

His disheveled hair shaded gently downcast eyes, leaving most of his face in light shadow. Wondering if she had made a misstep, the Archbishop leaned over gently to peer up at his impossibly grim face.

"…I can't."

"Oh! Really." Surprise flashed across her face, but it quickly darkened into a severe stare. "…What if my life depended on it?"

He jerked alert. "Eh!?"

"What if it was the only thing that would keep me alive? What if I were to suffer horribly were you to not? What if **everyone** was? What then?"

There was nothing he could say.

"Would you hoard your precious virginity so? Would you **really** doom the world for that?"

Still nothing came to mind.

"Perhaps it's just me. What if anyone would do? What then? Would you refuse everyone?"

His silence was an endless void, and he stared down into chasm of his soul as her words struck home.

"What if you had your perfect world, with a perfect girl who truly and honestly loved you, fully and totally, and your love would save it all. What then, Kamijou Touma? What would you truly do ?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"…I still couldn't."

!~~~~~~~~!

"Really… And I thought you said you were an ordinary boy, who wanted a girlfriend." The Archbishop's tone was mocking now, condescending in her exaggerated disbelief. But Touma entirely failed to care.

"I get it now. What you're actually doing." This did prompt a raised eyebrow on the woman's face, but the boy wasn't looking. "You weren't lying, back then. But you weren't saying everything." Now he was, gazing directly at her with eyes of steel. "…You're really just trying to convince me I'm wrong."

"Oh-ho, suddenly an expert on love now, are we? What happened to-"

"No." He curtly cut off her amused response. A silence, deep and dark, opened up between them, yet the boy bridged that gap. "…But I've had a lot of experience on your side of the plate, and I finally see what you're doing. You're trying to trap me in a scenario where I realize my convictions are meaningless if they hurt someone else; if they fail to achieve what I really want.

"But you're wrong. What I chose now, that's always been my goal. It's exactly because I want to avoid hurting someone that I wouldn't do it. No matter how tempting.

"I really am just an ordinary teenage boy, who'd love nothing more than love letters in his locker. But I can't possibly, ever, sacrifice my ideals to achieve that desire. There's no way for any of that to happen, to go further than my day-dreams, when things are... Like this."

His eyes wandered to his right hand. Her face betrayed nothing; she waited for him to continue.

"And even then, even if not, what kind of father could I be like this? What kind of partner? Anyone I would be with would be as stuck with this hand as I am, until it ends up... Anyway, I don't even really know who I was. What kind of person was I? Did I have another, forgotten commitment? I don't know any of it. I can't take that chance."

At some point he had clenched it into a fist; it was becoming painful, but he could not bear to let it loosen.

"And that's not even the worst. There's nothing you can say that would change my mind. I've been through a lot, but there is nothing I wouldn't repeat a thousand times to avoid your scenario. I would try anything else it took to save you, or anyone else, from harm, but never that. Because there is no bigger mistake I could ever make, no worse scenario that I could ever think of…"

The abyss that was there conversation reopened, as the boy struggled to put to words what had always sulked in the corner of his mind. Never spoken, never shared, never even acknowledged, lurked a fear.

Tormenting him nearly as much as his shattered past was the certainty of his cursed future. There was enough good in his life, enough strength in his will, to want to do good in turn to the world despite his misfortune. But that could never extend to letting another share his fate.

Even if it was impossible; even if he was the only one who might ever have to bear this curse; even if it was never an issue for his father, and could not possibly be given to a son or daughter, the slim chance remained. And that was one outcome Touma would never bear to conceive of.

"…Nothing I could do would be worse than to pass down Imagine Breaker and its burden. To someone else. To my c-child." Though he stumbled at the end, it was from a choked down emotion that he could not accurately name. [2]

Still, at his moment of weakness, the Archbishop turned away carelessly.

The sound of her mug clattering on her tray shattered the silence.

"I was right all along. I didn't want to believe it, but it's true." He met her eyes again and saw only disgust. "Despite all your potential, you are truly an evil man, Kamijou Touma."

He swallowed hard, but held his tongue firm.

"So greedy, so self-centred. All those times you said to others that you were only helping them because it suited you and your desires, and not because you were a good person, a hero… We all thought it was modesty. But now I see. You are at least, if nothing else redeemable, honest. After all, you say it yourself: you're nothing but the victim of the world's misfortune, doomed to suffer alone. Isn't that right? Even if you refuse to acknowledge a billion other truths, you can see that you are nothing but danger. So how can you stand to risk, to poison the lives around you? Yet you don't change your ways and leave them in peace. Get out of my church."

Her sudden dismissal surprised life back into the boy. He had withstood her tirade unflinching, but now looked up a little from the floor.

"Did I misspeak in my flawless Japanese again? Or are you so wrapped up in your delusions that reality ceases to have any import? Get out, Kamijou Touma. Your oblivious and self-centered attitudes threaten everything and everyone around you. Someone else will be caring for the Index from now on, and Othinus will be imprisoned as best we can manage. Should you refuse, you make an enemy of all England. Your bags will be packed, and a flight home arranged in the morning. Leave, and do not return."

He so wanted to fight.

To shout with rage and indignation.

To turn around and refuse to let them go.

But with unthinking strides Touma reached the door. When he faced it he paused, unable to continue. He stared at it for a moment, at its complex carving, a thousand arguments born and dying in his mind.

When he was sure he could trust his voice, he finally spoke. "…Still locked."

"…So. Is this the answer that makes you happy?"

 _This wood paneling is really something: how many angels can you carve onto one door?_

"You don't want to get upset?"

 _They're so clustered together it's hard to see where one begins and another ends._

"To defend yourself?"

 _One angel, two, three… Or is that the same one…_

"You really don't care about all those things I said?"

 _Lost count._

And still the silence stretched out.

Until he broke it.

"…Why would I? I can't argue."

"What do you really want, you stupid boy?"

"…I just want to be me."

"Then start."

"I CAN'T! I CAN'T JUST-"

" **Silence.** " Though he was no longer cowed in the least, something in Touma demanded he listen to the woman's authoritative voice. And so he waited, seething anger long tucked away barely held in check. "Feeling guilty about being who you are? Of all the idiotic things you carried with you into my office tonight, Kamijou Touma, that is the worst. If nothing else changes tonight, when you leave, leave that behind with you. The world will thank us both." Without his noticing, the Archbishop had traversed the room and swiftly unlocked the door with her iron key. It swung open at her touch, but she halted him one last time.

"Oh, and Imagine Breaker? If you want to try your hand at something useful, I've discovered Baker's whereabouts. The apartments at this address." The same long, graceful arm that had stretched out to stop him pressed a scrap of paper into his chest. "Do what you like, but your flight leaves tomorrow morning with you on it or not."

And the boy stiffly left, disappearing down the hall whose torches shone with unfelt warmth.

Closing her door but leaving it unlocked, the Archbishop sat back down in her chair, looking thoughtful.

And she waited.

It did not take long for her next appointment to arrive.

A booted foot slammed into her door. Though not an unusual entrance for him, this time the boy coming in nearly knocked it from its hinges. Without pause he stormed her desk.

"What did you say to him!?" The red-haired magician pounded its top hard enough to crack its veneer, but the Archbishop only smiled.

"My my, Stiyl. It's not like you to get so emotional."

"Can it. I want answers." His eyes bore into her, searching her face. "He didn't even look at me as he passed. All he said was "Take care of her.' What did he mean?"

"Of course he said that.

"What. Did. You. Say?"

"So protective? What motivates this-"

"She cares about him." He spoke simply, though a fire raged inside. "Now, what the Hell are you planning?"

"I think he's harbouring some delusions. When I brought it up we didn't meet eye to eye on the matter. I expect he's gone off with that information the Spy had acquired just now. You were there."

"...You sent him in alone?" Stiyl's tone dripped with derision. "We're still planning this invasion, like you ordered. We're still not sure we can follow her to her true hideout. But you sent him, the wildest card in our hand, first?"

"I sent him nowhere. I merely gave him the option." She flipped through her scattered papers in boredom as Stiyl finally straightened. "I believe what I did is in his best interests. And everyone else's. And at least one other person in particular."

"You just love to manipulate, don't you? Is that why you're having me go out of my way to find that woman's missing family first? So you can use them as leverage, just like-"

"How cruel! Don"t think of me like that. I'm just a surgeon. Sometimes the medicine tastes bad, and sometimes you must cut to be kind."

"And sometimes you lose a patient to your pride."

"Oh, truly, it's so. I might even be wrong in the end about him." With a playful giggle she tossed her papers into the air, letting them snow down all around them. "But that's what makes it so fun to gamble!"

!~~~~~~~~!

11:56 P.M., December 28th: England: _Unknown_

"Mmm, yes. She's gone inside again."

"Of course she has, you clanking fool." Agnes, the Green witch of Woolpit, hardly looked up from her studies to chastise the Greek magicians. Though she had spent many an hour brushing up on new magical theory, the sheer volume was beginning to wear on her patience. Her open book she slammed shut, before rounding on him more soundly. "She does every night at Midnight."

"So we're to have another ally?" Both turned as their newest member approach, her bare feet soft on the hard floor. "I'm not certain how this works."

"Oh, yes. Mhmm, you remind me, beautiful Song-bird! That flying chariot you fought, I was hoping you could describe-"

"Do not remind me of that incident." The dark-skinned woman shook her head. "I must apologize. It wasn't just that it was a foul piece of this modern world. When in my songbird form, I find it too easy to get into a natural mindset. I must have thought it was a sparrowhawk threatening my young… It is shameful to be so easily mislead."

She felt his cold metal hand clasping her shoulder in sympathy. "There there, my dear, mmm yes. So how about that-"

She wrenched away, shock playing across her aquiline features. "G-get away from me, unnatural machine! Your very existence reminds me of all that I hate! How could you sell your body to metal and civilization as you do!? What madness..."

As Daedalus slumped over in defeat, the perturbed woman felt a fourth draw close.

"Still, you succeeded, Songbird, and retrieved the last of the required sacrifices. That is what truly matters."

But the woman shrugged off the Saint's kind gesture. "I do not need comfort. I merely need to do better. I can not risk this plan failing. It is too important."

Yet suddenly a pain shot through her gut, and she bent over double.

And something gnawed at her core.

"W-wha..." Song-bird glanced about the room, and saw she was not alone. Even Daedalus seemed wracked with pain, which lasted for nearly a minute. At its eventual end she sigh, shaking with relief. "G-gh... Does it always feel this way?"

His bronze gear groaned and jangled as he slowly recovered, but the Greek magician eventually was able to answer. "Mmhmm, yes, my dear, and more so each night. I do not look forward to when a week has passed." Yet a light twinkled in his glowing eyes. "I suspect it may be-"

"Colleagues." All silenced as the woman who had brought them back stepped forth, back from her private chambers. A room they had left one more time than they had entered. "It is good you are all together, to greet our newest member."

She stepped more fully through the door, revealing a tall, fit man of Mediterranean cut. His dark beard was thick and neatly shorn, hair plaited in opulent style that matched the finery of his robes. On each hand he wore two fingers, shining with promise, and around his neck hung a dull fifth. He eyed the room with magnanimous eyes, as if forgiving them all for falling beneath his gaze.

Daedalus eyes lit up and he cackled with glee. "Ohohohoh! You seem a regal fellow. Are we in the company of Royalty this time?"

"...I do not know you, strange apparition, but yes. Though no longer, I was once King." He left it at that, but turned to Miss Baker, standing silent to his side. "Woman. Are these our allies in your impossible quest? You promised an army."

"There is an army. And this will suffice." Where others might have wilted under his imperious glare, Miss Baker only shrugged. "And what we seek is not merely possible. It is inevitable."

"Ah! U-uhm, I must apologize to you again." In mild surprise the former assistant turned to see Song-bird hanging her head in embarrassment. "I did attack the mechanical... Thing, that carried off our mundane ally. I have no love for him, but you did say the plan was to-"

"No. Do not apologize. His small role in this is over. We have no need for him any more."

"I do not know, mhmm, if he thinks so, yes..." Daedalus rocked on his heels, smugly enjoying himself. "I've been learning about this new technology, integrating it, you see, but also studying what news it brings. And it seems the fellow you employed has been quite busy tonight! Several brazen attacks, randomly targeted explosions all across town: the man has carried on much mischief. And I wonder why..."

His leading question was left to hang. "That is not our concern. Once we succeed, nothing will matter."

"Are innocents being harmed?" Joan thrust herself forth, "If this is a direct consequence of our actions... I let him into his vault at the promise of the worker's safety. I will not stand for him to hurt others for his failure."

"It does not matter. Think long term, Maid of Orleans, and you will see it to be true."

"...But still. Allowing evil, even with the knowledge it will be undone?"

"It must be. The prophecy will come to pass, with or without us; it is merely our role to take advan-"

Something in the air changed. Miss Baker and Agnes both jolted alert.

"What was that? I felt something... My wards!" The Green Witch's chair clattered to floor as she flew to her feet. "Someone has destroyed my outer wards! But they did not even alert me... How?"

"Someone has penetrated our fortress." Miss Baker stared coolly down the hall, and the others followed her view. "It would appear we have a guest."

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes**_

[0] Extra bonus footnote: This is a word, I swear! It's just more common in Canada and Britain than elsewhere, I think.

[1] The Nutcracker line references Chapter 10, when Mikoto compliments Index's puppet show. I meant to explain that sooner, so it may have passed from mind by now, but Touma hinted then that Index was surprised at Mikoto's adult knowledge, not the other way around. Note that while Index is not bright, she has perfect memory, so knowing the names of several famous plays and such does not seem too unlikely.

[2] So I expect this might cause some controversy. I hope I did enough to justify this whole section. If it seems out of character, I'd ask you to read between the lines not merely of what Touma says, but what he does and what his actions speak to.

Leaving aside the likely (but not formally established in canon) inaccuracies about the exact way Imagine Breaker gets passed to a new host... Do you really believe someone as careful as Touma has become would even take the chance of accidentally bestowing it upon someone? And, given his horrible luck, why WOULDN'T it be the worst case scenario? Hell, in his mind it's probably a certainty. Sure, he might feel relief if he somehow lost that power, but wouldn't that make it even worse? He would refuse to give up Imagine Breaker like that, I'm sure. He only trusted Othinus once he had completely lost to her, and even then he acted as if he was sorry for her. For many reasons, yes, but I expect it was because he understood to some extent what might come.

I'm reading between many lines to get to this portrayal of his character, but I feel it fits. He's oblivious to his admirers, yes, but too pointedly so. It struck me first clearly in the LN with the Old Mummy, where he bemoans never receiving a love letter. Yes, he's never had that explicit an overture before, or something so normal (which I suspect may be part of the point), but later that same novel, he makes a passionate speech about human emotion, when the Magic God mocks Mikoto's role. This is absolute conjecture, but I think there is evidence for the following:

Touma is not merely dumb and/or pure. He is aware to at least a limited extent that relationships are very much possible for him, should he try hard enough.

He is sincerely messed up from his experiences, both recent and from the earliest days her remembers, but has no healthy way to reconcile the urge to do good and his own paranoia.

The bit about having a child is likely going farther than what the canon would say, but that IS the point of this story. What do you think my have started to put him on this track? It may have been something always on his mind, caring for Index, and seeing all the families and relationships of others in his adventures. Perhaps it stems from his now many days with Mikoto, or the increasing attentions of the Archbishop as the holidays dragged on? You are what your experience dictates, to a certain extent: by now, the Touma of this story is a different one from the one in the LN's: they have diverged, and so too may their answers.

I swung things intentionally this way to support my story, but really, it's not TOO different from what I expect the Light novels are setting up. At least in terms of him struggling with some understated realities of what it means to be a boy, thrust into his situation, with no memories and in constant peril, and then having to deal with Othinus and Magic Gods and all sorts of hoo-haw. The author is leading up to a climax of his indecision now: I'm merely doing the same, from a romantic angle rather than a combative one (the willingness to lose someone or kill over the willingness to love and open up). Truly, I didn't expect the author would use Mikoto as much as a parallel to Touma as I do in my story, but it is an interesting coincidence regardless.

I decided back in Book 1 that without addressing Touma's problems, there could be no romance. I bet that, even if someone were to confess to him right now, in the next novel (which I bet may be a plot point) nothing would happen, because that Touma is not even as far along in figuring things out as this Touma. And so we arrive here. This ought to set things up for an interesting finish. For now, I hope you understand what I've been setting up for since I decided there had to be a book 2. Sorry this footnote got so ridiculous, but if you read and it and don't think I'm insane, I appreciate it. And as always, thanks for sticking with me.


	49. Part 2: Chapter 17

**Happy Canada Day!**

 **For those who care, anyway. And I didn't delay this chapter for the event: After a hopefully brief delay, we're back, because this current chapter lost nearly all its content in a big computer issue last week. Luckily I keep notes, but it really killed my enthusiasm: at least the wonderful responses from the previous cliff-hanger helped to keep me at it. I'm doubly glad now that I decided to push to get out the last update while on vacation, as I had a feeling it would be an interesting one.**

 **Things should be now be on track to continue, though, with this, the fifth and final day. There are many threads to weave, much conflict in store, and perhaps some dramatic twists. I hope you find it entertaining, and as always, thanks for sticking with me.**

 **Chapter** **17: The Fifth Day of Christmas**

12:05 A.M., December 29th: An Unknown Building

"Maybe it's just my mood, but this all seems horribly familiar."

Touma eyed the narrow corridor in which he had appeared with frank suspicion. It was a stark contrast from the cool dishevelled apartment he had broken into minutes before, going from dingy and dusty upholstery to gleaming grey tile. There had been no defenses or guards he could find, so it had taken him some time to realize that the tall misplaced wardrobe in the living room's centre had been his goal all along.

Touching it had elicited a sharp ring from Imagine Breaker, and it swung open to reveal a long thin tunnel. Without much thought he stepped inside, emerging shortly in the cool fluorescent lights of this strangely familiar complex.

Now he wandered down one slate grey hallway after another, carefully listening, shoes clicking too noisily for his comfort. Irrationally irritated he finally bent down, resting both hands on the cool floor.

He eyed it for a minute.

He gave it a rap.

It sounded light but felt impossibly firm.

"These floors… Where-"

There was a bump down the hall, and the sound of marching feet.

With no time to spare he rolled around a corner, but the steps rapidly approached. His last option was a dark room, door ajar.

He sprinted through it and cowered behind its cover as a group of patrolling sentries stomped past. There were at least three, and he listened as they paraded along in perfect time.

As quick as they came they were gone, leaving him alone in the dark. After a second's fumbling, he flicked on the lights.

A cozy little infirmary was brightly illuminated, sparsely stocked with the bare essentials of first aid. He squinted at it a moment before shaking his head and leaving.

"Strange… Still, not the time. I've got to find her." The footsteps he had fled were still distantly marching; he gave cautious pursuit, keeping well back.

At points he caught sight of their backs: their heads twisting together in sharp movements as they glanced down halls. All were girls, and he recognized one as a waiting staff who'd served him breakfast many days ago.

 _More mind controlled people. If only they split up, I could rescue them one by one._ But despite his hopes they remained bunched up tight and in short order he was obliged to follow them into a larger store room, filled with scattered crates and boxes. He dashed behind a few near a wall as they prowled the warehouse, and he took a moment to look the cartons over.

"…Wait, why is this in Japanese?"

Before he could ponder more their footsteps stopped. At the same time he became aware that more guards were approaching, feet echoing down from otherwise silent halls. His spirit fell as over a dozen starry eyed soldiers soon assembled to stand in the room's centre.

And there they stood, in complete silence watching every exit.

Touma waited several minutes before he gave up. _Creepy. And bad luck. How the heck can I get out of…_ In his depression he leaned back, falling against a wall behind him, but it was unusually rough to the touch.

Curious, he turned and saw that he had hit instead of wall a heavy metal hatch, embedded in the otherwise smooth surface of pipe. It jutted out from the wall in a thick cylinder, running down from the ceiling before angling parallel to the ground and finally disappearing beneath him. The hatch itself was sealed, but only by a simple valve.

With nothing better to try he carefully spun it open, leaning his back in silent exertion.

After a tiny hiss it popped open, sentries none the wiser. He peered inside.

 _An abandoned tunnel? But why is it so smooth? This can't be an air duct, or for maintenance, so…?_ It looked just wide enough to fit his shoulders, but was intimidatingly dark. Yet a quick look over his shoulder confirmed his other options were few.

"Such misfortune…" His words rebounded eerily inside the dark tunnel, as using whatever leverage he could find Touma began his ascent.

!~~~~~~~~!

12:18 A.M., December 29th: London: St. George's Cathedral: Guest Room 1

"…Mmmm…?" Index awoke to a rustling sound, head twisting listlessly under her covers. The lights were off, and she could just make out the shape dressing by her bed. "…Short hair. Why are you so noisy?"

"I'm going out."

"Aw, come on. Now you want to go have fun?" From across the room, Lessar yawned, lifting herself onto her elbows. "I could show you some of London's night life, but you might be a little young to…" She paused her teasing, belatedly registering the tension she'd heard in Mikoto's tone.

"What's wrong, Misaka-san?" Itsuwa had noticed it as well, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she stiffly sat up on her bed.

"I can't find him." In the darkness she pulled on one boot after another, smoothing them out over the tights.

"Oh. I was wondering why you never got back." Lessar squinted at the room's sole clock, but then recoiled. "Wow, it's later than I thought… Here I thought you two were doing something x-rated and wouldn't be back til morning."

Her weak jibe fell on deaf ears. There was no reply as Mikoto continued to dress in the darkness, pulling back her short hair to tie something beneath it.

"I'll be back." And with that the esper slipped out their guest room door.

For a second there was silence.

"Wait, Misaka-san!"

"Esper, hold up! O-ow! Damn ******* dresser-!"

"What in my name are you mortals babbling-AGH, my bed-!"

As she left her roommate stumbling in the dark and jogged up the basement stairs, the esper wondered at her own decisiveness.

 _This isn't that strange, is it?_ The answer quickly it came to her, and she couldn't suppress a weak chuckle. "I guess I'm just used to this." _Always chasing after him._

So she thought, as she slammed open the Cathedral door and leapt into the night.

12:34 A.M., December 29th: An Unknown Building

"Ow. Ow… Oww."

His utterances bled into the darkness with each shimmy of his shoulders. The climb was excruciatingly slow, giving Touma many minutes to ponder his idiocy.

 _Every part of me hurts. Why didn't I at least take a painkiller before…_ The memory flashed in his eyes and they hardened. He took a deep breath, and continued.

Until his elbow pushed through the pipe's wall and into open air.

Sliding down in surprise his hand grasped the opening's lip. With the last of this strength he hauled his aching body through the gap.

He fell on his back onto a hard floor, blinking in pain from the brightly lit hallway. Shop signs blazed around him on all sides, and he lay motionless in total confusion on the surprisingly hard tile.

The thought bothered him more than it should.

Eventually there was only one thing left to try.

He tapped the ground again.

It gave the same familiar sound, which he finally recognized.

"C-carbon? No. No way. I can't be that unlucky."

But everywhere he looked confirmed his suspicions. The walls, floors, ceiling: all were made of the same grey material. The dozens of Japanese stores inside added to the growing list of evidence. But the wet floor sign with the building's name proudly advertised was finally enough to hammer his unfortunate reality home.

"I can't really be back inside the Dianoid, can I!? Nooooo, that's not fair! Daaaamn it!"

Both hands flew to his face as he curled up like an insect in bleach, quaking in imaginary death throes. After several moments spent wallowing in anguish he fell flat again, every last bit of life drained from him.

But this time, as he looked up, there was a starry eyed face looking down at him.

" **Surrender or perish.** "

"…A-Agata-san?" Her name popped to mind but the short brunette showed no recognition. Instead she reached inside her battle robes and dangled a simple rosary in her hand.

Which suddenly grew a long blade, hanging like Damocles' sword over Touma's neck.

" **Surrender or perish.** "

"Wwagh!? W-wait, hold on-!"

 **"Perish.** "

The blade crashed down and bit into the hard floor as he tumbled aside. He had just enough presence of mind to ready Imagine Breaker for its second swing, and as it rang out and destroyed her holy weapon he carried it forward to meet her arm.

It rang out again, and the girl staggered forward into his arms. He held her out an arm's length as the 8-point stars in her gaze faded.

"Wha…? Oh, I'm so tired…" Agata fell limp in his grasp, and she continued as he awkwardly sought a place to put her down. "Oh my gosh… This is almost as bad as Bible camp…"

"I'll bet: you've been on your feet for… Wait, Bible camp?" He leaned the exhausted girl up against the pipe he had fallen out of and weakly she nodded.

"Training, in the Roman Catholic Church." She began to list off memories on her fingers, a dreamy smile coming over her face. "All-day marathon… Memorization challenges… Work-outs based on Catholic mythology… Tiring, but fun…"

"How insane are you magicians!? Agh, never mind, just, stay here."

Before he could stand up to look around, she gripped his sleeve. "Where is here…? I don't remember much… But you were rolling about in distress when I found you, I remember that."

More than a little self-conscious, Touma rubbed at the back of his neck. "I really don't want to talk about this horrible Hell-hole."

"Wow… Were you tortured here or something?" Her sleepy, innocent expression was not to be denied, so Touma merely sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, I'd say so. Twice."

"Is this place really bad? Like an ultra-secure prison or military base? Maybe a cultist enclave, full of demonic practitioners?"

"Worse. It's a shopping mall."

"…Did you hit your head a little?"

"L-look, we just need to get ou…" He checked him, carefully managing his expression. "Actually, you need to get out of here."

She had already spaced out a little as she searched his hairline for a bump, and so was taken by surprise at his plan. "Hmmm?"

"Go back down this tunnel; way down there's a part where it bends to the ground. There were a bunch of Mind-controlled magicians standing guard there, but they might be gone by now. The exit to this mall is down there, through a strange looking door. It leads to a wardrobe in an apartment in London, so just go there all right?"

"Narnia…? No, wait!" She shook her habit-ed head demurely, hiding her face from his inquisitive gaze. 'N-n-no! No, I c-can't do that!"

"Why not? Were small places not part of your training?"

"F-first of all, ah, I-I'm a little… C-claustraphobic." She blushed and frowned adorably at his raised eyebrow, wiggling her fingers together. "H-hmph. And second, I'll just fall asleep… I'm still really pooped. B-but third!" She raised one digit now in consternation. "My colleagues are still prisoner here, isn't that so? I have to help save them!"

Touma gazed at her for a moment.

"…You need to just stay here and hide, if you can't get out." He stood up and strode a few feet away, ensuring they were still alone. "I'm going after them all, don't worry."

"No, I can help. I have my-" The girl tried to push her upright, but wilted at the broken chain in her hand. "Oh, no…! My Cruce de Judecată…! I just got permission to… B-borrow this holy relic a few weeks ago…" [2] She yawned deeply, fighting to keep her eyes open. "Nooooo, I don't want to go back to Bible… Camp…"

In seconds she was asleep. It was only a minute more for the boy to fashion her a makeshift bed of clothing, sweaters and parkas pulled from a convenient clothing store. He regarded them, momentarily conscious of the somehow still air-conditioned mall.

His bare arms shivered a moment, remembering the cold walk here.

But he chose to not think about that.

Touma stood and, focus renewed, stepped back out into the Dianoid's hallway.

12:38 A.M., December 29th: London, Crossing of Westminster Road and St. George's Road

"I have no idea where I'm going."

Mikoto stood in the small snowy island between the complicated intersection, finally willing to admit her own idiocy.

The night was cold, the Cathedral's warmth fading fast from her memory. She was almost ready to go back and ask around the church more, confirm if perhaps she wasn't being too hasty-

Until explosion boomed, lighting up the night far away down a dark side road.

"Aha! Found you." _He's got to be where the action is, he always is!_ Faith renewed she launched herself towards it, streaking through the air as a blur of blur.

A few eyes followed her astonishing journey, drawn out from their homes by the explosion, but she ignored their stares as she straightened her mask. _This disguise is paying dividends. But now, to clean up whatever mess he's made._

She landed just outside a burning building, in time to witness two men dashing into a parked car.

"We're done here, go! Go!" One shouted, slamming the door behind him as the engine revved.

"Get in, we're peeling!" Tires squealed as the criminals' made their getaway.

But the buildings beside them remained curiously still.

Their shared elation quickly faltered, turning to blustering anger.

"Why the ***** ain't we moving!? Driver, get going!"

"The wheels are spinning, but-!?" There was a lurch, and the scenery drifted downwards: he leaned his head out the window to see the ground rapidly disappearing. "We're floating!? W-Wahaghh-!?"

The car flipped over suddenly in the air before dropping upside down. Its ceiling and doors crunched inwards, binding shut and trapping the shouting criminals inside.

"I'll let the police deal with you. Now where are you, you Idiot?" She turned her annoyance on the burning building, bending water pipes to quickly douse the blaze.

But rather than Touma, a small group of Londoners emerged from the smoke, coughing. Concerned, Mikoto rushed to their side and soon all were safely away from the wreck of their home.

"P-please, don't-" An aged man was interrupted by a coughing fit, but struggled through the pain. "D-don't hurt us!"

"Eeh? A-ah! I'm not here to hurt you; I've taken care of them, don't worry." She gestured back at the gentling rocking car as the family recovered, but the youngest, a small girl carrying a favourite toy, ran to Mikoto's side with startling speed.

"Daddy, daddy don't you recognize her!? She's the hero from TV, she saved us!"

"H-hero?" _Right, damn it! How many people saw that broadcast!?_ Her hopes at anonymity plummeted as the rest of the family quickly nodded, making noises of recognition.

"So cool! Zapping and flying around! And such a pretty dress…" The little girl brazenly felt up Mikoto's fabric, and the esper did her best to inch away.

 _She's a little excited for someone whose house just exploded!_ "A-ah… Well, I'm just… It's not that-"

"Do not be so modest; you've done a great thing!" The man of the house crawled up beside his daughter, taking Mikoto's shaking hand in his own. "We have to nothing to give you now, but you have our deepest thanks, hero… Do you have a name?"

A crowd was drawing around them. "L-look, c-can you tell me what was going on here?"

His wife finally spoke up. "I don't really know. We're just a humble family; we've got nothing worth stealing!" She fell again to gasping as her husband comforted her, continuing in her place.

"They didn't even try, just came in, forced us upstairs at gunpoint, and then set up that bomb! Damn animals…!" His fear had turned to anger, but Mikoto needed him to focus.

"Right, thank you, but… Have you see a guy? An Asian teen, around this tall, messy hair, annoying face?"

They blinked at her as one, before the little girl raised a hand. "Oh! You mean your partner, the one who was punching that helicopter?"

"Y-yeah, sure. Have you seen him?"

"No, you're the first hero here!"

 _Damn it._ Mikoto straightened, gazing out across the street. _Wasn't the news talking about a string of attacks yesterday evening? Looks like it's getting worse out here, but I can't just keep stopping individual groups. There's got to be a point to all this senseless violence… And that's likely what he's involved with._

The esper's youngest fan interpreted Mikoto's musing for sadness, running to her side again. "But don't worry! Maybe he's out somewhere else across London, stopping other criminals! Or maybe he's going to find their boss, the Shark! I bet that bad man has a really mean plan! He escaped from the police, you know! A-after you stopped him!"

"Really!? Aw, come on, that's… Wait." The little girl's surprising suggestion gave Mikoto the insight she needed. The esper pondered a moment longer, a suspicion forming. "…Yeah. Thanks. Say, what's your name?"

"M-me? …C… Cheryl…" She stuttered, confidence waning, but her embarrassed shuddering froze as Mikoto's hand gently rustled her hair.

"You just helped me out a lot, so thank you. Look after your parents, okay, Cheryl?"

The little girl nodded, wide eyed and clutching her toy. She and all the other onlookers watched Mikoto speed off into the night, faint burst of lightning arcing as she danced atop street lamps away from the scene.

 _I just need to find out what all of this is about. If the Shark really is directing this, than I want to give him a piece of my mind. And wherever HE is, I'll find Touma. I'm not about to be left behind again!_

Her heart pounded in her chest as she traversed the city skyline, taut with emotion as she remembered her last failed attempt to find the boy.

When she had finally pushed open the door to his room, ready to chastise him for her trouble.

Where she had found him missing, jacket lying crumpled on his bed.

12:39 A.M., December 29th: The Dianoid, 5th Floor.

" **Surrender or perish.** "

Touma froze, not five steps from the snoring Agata. In the corner of his eye appeared two girls, standing with weapons levelled.

"Again!?" He quickly scanned them. One was unknown, dangling a heavy runed mace, but the other wielded a long katana and sported a familiar ponytail. "Uhh… Uragami-san?"

" **Surrender or perish.** "

He almost made to run, but a particularly loud snore from the store caught both his and the magician's attention. _Crap! Are they smart enough to realize she's unconscious!? Can't run, gotta think…_ As they turned towards the sound he raised both hands over his head. "I-I surrender!"

Both girls snapped back towards him. Though both approached, Uragami hung back, starry-eyes watching him carefully as her companion reached to her belt for a loop of cord.

He held both arms out like a contrite crook. "All right, just tie me up now." _And get a little closer…_

For a second he thought his bluff would hold, but the girl paused just out of reached. They stared levelly at each other, before she spoke.

" **About face.** "

"Eh? What, I don't understand-"

" **About face.** " She slowly pantomimed her request, spinning in brisk quarter turns.

"Oh. Got it." He spun, putting both hands together behind his back. _Damn, this is going to be harder from behind…_

With surprisingly speed she deftly bound him. Cursing his distraction, he leapt back. Before she could react Imagine Breaker rang out as it pushed into her stomach.

But rather than turn to his side the girl promptly passed out and slid to the floor.

Leaving him alone with Uragami, who sprang forwards.

" **Perish.** "

"Damn it!" He tumbled into a shoulder roll, avoiding the first of a string of blows. Touma dove again and again, always just out of reach but never able to regain balance. "Why do you seem more eager than Agata-san was!?"

His question was answered by several more thrusts, each closer to home than the last. Finally his felt hit the wall and her sword point snaked towards his chest.

It jabbed into the carbon as he narrowly dodged, wincing as its edge caught his left forearm. He fell prone, but was saved from a follow-up strike when her sword proved stuck. Still staring at him she tugged on it viciously, while he floundered for a new plan.

 _Wait a minute. Why new?_ "…I surrender! Can I surrender again!?" He scrambled backwards, kicking out with his feet as she finally wrenched free. "I can't put my hands up but I surrender!"

She raised her sword, but paused.

He stared into her starry eyes.

" **Stand at the ready.** "

"…Really? That worked? Oh, uh, hold on!" As her sword raised again he clambered to his feet, but she remained unsatisfied.

" **About face."**

Slowly he turned about, risking a look over his shoulder as she approached. _Is she checking my bonds? Well, guess that means… Worth another try!_

When he felt her lean forward he jumped back again, and just as before Imagine Breaker rang out.

The girl crumpled with a huge sigh, sword clattering down, and Touma finally breathed a sigh of his own.

"That wouldn't have worked on you guys normally. Glad you're not too smart mind-controlled like that…" Though the shallow slice in his arm bled he ignored it for now, crouching down to grasp her fallen blade. "But you're still quick. Agh…"

Uragami's eyes fluttered open, a scowl instantly formed as he sawed at his bindings with her sword. "D-don't use that… Like a pen… Knife… You *******…"

"Sorry, it's about to get worse." He sawed through part of his sleeve as she groaned, but she passed out before he finished his makeshift bandage. In minutes her snoozing form was bundled up with her sword next to Agata and the unknown girl, and he left them more carefully than the first time.

On his second attempt the halls were quiet. By the signage he was on the fifth floor, but aside from his would-be captors he was alone.

And without a clue where to go.

 _Must be pretty hard to patrol a place this big, even with a mind-controlled army. So where would they be…_ Without a better destination in mind, Touma set out for the stairs down, creeping carefully as his footsteps clicked softly of the Dianoid's carbon.

12:49 A.M., December 29th: London, Lambeth Road: Outside the Imperial War Museum

"Where are you, you damn hacker?" Though her tone remained level the security guard rapped at her keyboard with increasing fervour. Her partner leaned over from his desk, lowering his magazine.

"Are you still antsy about that glitch you found?"

"It's not a glitch! There's definitely someone on our network, I can tell! Look at our bandwidth going out! Just because I can't find what they're looking at doesn't mean they're not looking…"

The male guard sighed, scratching lazily at his ear. "It's just a memory leak or something. Shouldn't we just be glad we're not one of the places being targeted by that damn criminal, that 'Shark' or whatever? He's going nuts all over the city, isn't he?"

"And this hacker might be the prelude to something here, all-right? So ****** of back to your Sports Illustrated babes, would you?"

"…I like the articles…" As he sullenly returned to his pastime the woman stared at her screen in annoyance. From their road-side station, looked out into the clear night sky and empty streets.

Empty, save for one small figure standing by their front gate. The security guard took a closer look before sliding up her window and shouting outside. "Hey! Little girl! It's late, go home you brat! Don't you know there's trouble tonight?" The girl moved, and the guard peered closer and mumbled to herself, "Is that a costume…? Ach, whatever, I don't care. Now, back to this damn network intruder…"

Mikoto watched the window slam back down, sighing as the woman disappeared.

A soft and sweet voice buzzed through her phone.

"Are you there? What happened, Misaka-san? Your upload paused."

"I had to yank the connection, sorry. I've resumed." She had already plugged her multi-purpose cable back into the entry panel, and her screen lit up again,

"Why did you have to do that? Misaka-san, are you sure this is strictly legal? I did a bit of research, and these data points you're sending correlates to a string of reported explosions in London over the last 12 hours. You're not involved with that, are you?" Her tone suddenly became accusatory, and Mikoto paled.

"N-no!" _Not yet, anyway!_ "Just don't worry about that, all I want to do is confirm my suspicions. All these attacks have been drawing away the police and distracting people, but I can't tell from what exactly. You can find out, right?"

"Of course. I'm running the data sets through Anti-Skill's simulation software now. It'll take a few minutes, though…"

"What? Why?"

"Anti-Skill is using a large portion of their server speed for some other use. I could divert more than I already gave, but I'm reading level 3 alerts since multiple high priority requests for more memory allocations have been ignored. I don't really want to upset them, and they might be doing something important."

"And you're the one question my criminal activity?"

"I-I'm not doing anything wrong! I'm Judgment, this is official business!"

"Official… Wait, are you going file a report? Uiharu-san, you better-"

"If you're just going to loiter, at least do it QUIETLY!" Mikoto jumped as the guard window slammed open again and the woman shouted at her. "Some of us WORK!" And just as quickly it slammed back down.

"Misaka-san? Misaka-san, is someone there?" Her friend's voice buzzed quietly through the esper's hand, and she sighed.

"No, no. It's fine. Just let me know when it's done, okay?"

"Right!"

 _Guess there's nothing to do but wait_.

She waited.

She shivered.

She wait some more.

"Damn it."

She was already impatient.

12:54 A.M., December 29th: The Dianoid, 3rd Floor

Prowling the Dianoid was slow going. Each level Touma descended to had more mind-controlled magicians than the last. He took that as a good sign and continued carefully, darting behind display cases and plant pots to avoid their watchful eyes.

It was difficult work, creeping up to employ Imagine Breaker, and on more than one occasion he bit off more than he could chew. Though earning several bruises in the process he'd dispatched a good number, setting each aside to sleep off their long subordination to Joan's will.

He crouched beside a third floor banister, overlooking the Dianoid's grand central concourse below, still strung with Christmas garland and lights and ruined decorations. He glanced up into the expanse, remembering there were two floors above and below him with a similar view. He'd walked around these levels less than a week before, arms locked unknowingly with a certain esper who came unbidden to mind.

But he cast those thoughts aside, rubbing the chill from his upper arms. The air was somehow still air-conditioned cool, despite being disconnected from Academy City. _And all the lights are even still on. This place have its own generator? I wonder what-_

Something whistled through the air up the large open space and Touma reflexively dove for cover, ending up behind a large potted fern. He held his breath and waited as the sound stopped, but it was replacing by a weak grinding noise.

He heard a rustling in the plant just above and behind him, but for a long second as he covered below he heard nothing else.

" _Ah ah ah, mmmm. I see you_."

The voice sounded tinny with distance, but was somehow close by. Fearing the worst Touma looked up.

A polished brass periscope peered down, peeping through a gap between the fronds. Its glaring red eye blinked at him before the looking glass retracted, its grinding and rattling increasing as the rest of the magician's body ratcheted over from a higher floor to perch on the banister railing like a hawk, crashing over the terrified teen.

Daedalus chuckled with hollow pleasure as Touma pushed away and up to his feet. "I knew I'd find you closer to the bottom, ohoho, yes! Your intrusion somehow disrupted this fortress's entryway, but I suspected you would still enter nearer the original Portal. Mmmmm, as always Daedalus is right."

Touma reeled, but he quickly steeled his nerves. "Shut up, all right!? Just tell me, where's Miss Baker!?"

The magician paused, more curious than taken aback. "…Hmmm? Ohoho, you mean the Last? The woman? Well, certainly, I will take you to her. That's what she requested as well." He stretched out his arms and their wing-like shape disappeared as he clanked down to the stand level with Touma.

For a moment the boy hesitated, looking for the catch.

And narrowly blew apart Daedalus whip-like strike, his converted hand and arm disintegrating at Imagine Breaker's touch.

But the magician reformed without pause, cackling all the louder.

"Though she didn't say you had to be in one piece! Ohohoho!"

Touma swept his hand this way and that, disrupting each piercing blow Daedalus could make. At first he backed away but soon held his ground, learning his opponent's rhythm before pressing the attack. In short order it was the summon who was forced to retreat, and Touma clenched his fist proudly.

"Hah! That all you got, you weird robot?"

"Ohohohoho, no, no, no! This is merely a prelude." Nothing seemed to quell the magician's glee as he danced outside Touma's reach. "Yessss, I've worked out some new toys, but I'm saving them for your partner, that girl with the modern power. You seem different. I wish to perform an experiment from my past on you. On you and that peculiar hand."

"Why is everyone so fixated on this damn thing!?" But shouting at Imagine Breaker had never made it go away before, so he merely clenched it until it hurt. Watching carefully, Touma was surprised to see the magician nod.

"Mmmmm. I may understand your position. Perhaps this may teach us both a thing or two."

Distracted, Touma did not feel the brass tendrils worming behind Daedalus's back and under the carbon tiles until it was too late. They sprung up and around him, hoisting him by his ankles.

"This again!?" As he struggled to wave away the grasp with Imagine Breaker, the Summon spun the boy around and sprung close to his back. [3]

"That kindly little Saint won't let me enhance any of her puppets, ohoho, no." Touma heard the metallic rustling of a strike into his back. "Mmmm, so you will have to do!"

Twisting to no avail he braced himself as best he could, but instead of wrenching pain he felt an icy coolness.

It spread out from the impact point, but then he felt nothing at all.

Until he brushed his left hand up against the spot, feeling cold burnished metal and the shape of mismatched gears.

"W-what did you do!? I can't see!?" Daedalus dangled the boy a short distance away, scrutinizing his experiment. He wore no expression at all, until Imagine Breaker came into contact with the strange growth on Touma's back.

With one piercing ring the transformation ended, but rather than crying out in anger Daedalus ground his brass chin with the fingers of his spare hand.

"…How peculiar. My infection doesn't work. How very peculiar."

Still upside down, Touma sore body gave up the attempt to reach his ankle. Instead he gently waved before the magician's face like a pendulum. "Aren't you taking that a little well? I mean, whatever you did didn't work, right?"

Daedalus froze, but then just laughed all the louder. When he recovered, he pulled Touma in close. "For me, set backs are no longer permanent. I've only truly failed once, and will never again!"

"Stop there, you clanking fool!" But looked back, startled, as another shape fluttered down the stairs. On a cloud of black mist the Green Witch of Woolpit descended, gliding along the floor at jogging speed with no apparent effort. She raised a gnarled green finger, jabbing it at her ally. "You stated before that this magic you attempt would leave the victim mindless; we need to interrogate that boy. Do you listen to nothing but the voices in your own head?"

For once, Daedalus looked sour. "…It did not work anyway, so oblige yourself if you must."

He loosened his grip and idly hurled the boy her way.

"Don't toss him at me!" She recoiled, and Touma barrelled past. "That hand hurts!"

"But my dear, you are not even merged with your brother, it should… Oho?"

She followed his inquisitive eyes to see the boy tumble into a roll and hit the ground running. He sprinted for the next stairway down, but skidded to a halt when a small bird alighted in front of him.

"So, you are back, worthy foe!?" In a rush of wind Songbird took human form, a hard look in her eyes. "You may have made a fool of me last time, but now I will show… You…" She trailed off as her rival took a hard right, dashing for the railing overlooking the Dianoid lower floor concourse. "W-where are you…?"

He leapt into the air, ripping a string of lights from the wall as he went. Staples popped from the wall one by one as he swung down in an arc to the main floor below.

"Don't let him go, stop him!" The Green Witch Agnes rounded on her ally.

"Ohohoho, my my! What a leap... Hmmm?" The inventor noticed her fury, but only shrugged in response. "Ohohoh, no brass in those cables, mmmm, yes."

"Damn it, you single-minded simpleton! You just let him-!"

Their petty bickering faded in the wind his arc generated as he skidded level with the floor. He released his makeshift cable and slid across the sleek carbon floor on his sneakers, breaking into a run.

 _That's two too many! Gotta find Baker. Gotta punch Baker. Fix everything. Now where…!?_

Belatedly he noticed that this level still had plenty of mind-controlled magicians on patrol. They turned on him and loosed their weaponry, some already in the middle of casting ranged spells.

In the brief second he had, he decided they were guarding the door to an amphitheatre. He vaguely recalled the magic show he'd seen inside with Mikoto but could ill afford the distraction.

Icicles, fireballs, boulders and shock-waves crashed around him, but good timing and several lucky swings of Imagine Breaker carried him through the assault. He made his objective, ramming open the door to crash inside.

Straight into the waiting chest of Joan of Arc.

1:05 A.M., December 29th: London, Lambeth Road: Outside the Imperial War Museum

"Almost done, Misaka-san."

'Good, thanks. It's chilly out here in these tights." But Mikoto hesitated, saying, "I'm sorry to bother you with this, but I need more processing power than these foreigners have got. You're the best person I could think of for the job."

"It's all right, Misaka-san. I'm sure it's important." Her young friend back in Academy City brightened at the compliment. "Besides, I have the morning shift anyway, and it's rather boring. I could use some data analysis to wake me up." Mikoto could hear her idle humming through the receiver, but it was interrupted by a soft gasp. "Oh! Misaka-san, I'll send you the results! I think this is pretty bad…"

The image file from Uiharu was easily overlaid on the esper's map of London. It showed a web of angry red dots, indicating attacks, combined with green dots showing police movements and reinforcements. A short time-lapse showed them radiating out in chaotic fashion from a central point.

But not chaotic enough to hide the oasis of calm in the eye of the storm. Mikoto zoomed in her map with a frown.

"…Buckingham Palace. What could they want there?"

"I don't know, Misaka-san, but this is a pretty careful operation. I doubt anyone else in London knows what's going on."

"Can you tell them? Talk to the police or something."

"I've been through this sort of thing before. They won't believe a girl from Judgment, and my English is really bad…" Uiharu chuckled weakly before perking up. "But! I can talk to Anti-Skill, and they eventually listen! We're allies with Britain, so maybe they can put out an alert!"

"Do what you can; I'm going to meet the Royals."

"R-Royals…? Misaka-sa-" But the call was cut off, and Mikoto already in motion, flinging herself off cars to gain momentum as their alarms blared into the night. She catapulted through the sky, towards the grim target painted on her map.

 _Because that's where I'll find him, I know it._

1:07 A.M., December 29th: The Dianoid: Main Ampitheatre

Touma faltered, unable to regain balance as he flailed face-first into Joan of Arc's bosom. She looked down in amusement as he mumbled incoherently and fought for breath in the theatre's main aisle.

"I'd wondered why some of my soldiers failed to report in. And that noise in the old-water tunnels was peculiar, but I suspected it was merely rats."

His first thought was ludicrous, even to him. _My nose hurts way more than this usually… Is she flat like Mi…?_ Realizing what he'd just thought he blushed furiously, eyes tracking up to her bemused expression. Finally he managed to force himself upright, rubbing his nose weakly as he staggered back. "…E-Eheheheh… Heh?"

"Are you alright? I am afraid I lack cushioning there."

Touma gaped in disbelief, until the blood ran from his face. "HOW'D YOU READ MY MIND!? IMAGINE BREAKER FAILED ME AT THE WORST POSSIBLE TIME!" He dropped to his knees, howling in dismay.

Joan leaned back and laughed loudly. "Not you mind, boy, your face! Innocent sprat, I am a soldier first and woman second. I am not the kind to get flustered by such things as that."

Touma sighed hugely, the incredible relief that he wasn't about to get decked by an embarrassed Saint feeling like ten days of rest. But then he looked up, suddenly curious. "But what about Kanzaki-san, you-"

"Excuse me, but how is Kanzaki Kaori doing?" In a blinding flash she was in his face, peering closely at him. The mention of the Amakusan Saint's name had lit a wild fire in Joan's already starry eyes.

She blinked expectantly at the boy, but Touma merely gestured over his shoulder. "…What about them?"

A full contingent of mind-controlled magicians were surrounding him, various weapons just inches from his neck. Though most were Necessarius, a fair number sported the familiar robes of the Agnese forces or the individualistic garb of the Amakusan Christians. But all were focused with laserlike intensity on skewering Touma.

Joan glanced up, and shouted, " **STAND DOWN!** " As one, the group lowered their arms and stood at the ready. "They are under my command, and will not bother us, now, speak of the Saint, _s'il vous plait_?"

"…F-fine? A little angry, I think…"

Joan's face fell. "She is mad? Why, whatever for? I thought our duel was _incroyable_ … Did she not enjoy it as much as… W-was I not a worthy enough foe!?"

"Well, you did take control of her friends and colleagues and attack her and me and Misaka and then she wasn't allowed after you when you fled-"

"Enough!" She withdrew in shame, waving a strong arm back as if to ward off evil. "Enough, utter not another word! I am distressed by this plot enough as it is…"

Touma sensed an opening. "If it's that upsetting… Then why? Why do all this? These people are exhausted, can't you see? Let them go, damn it!"

She recovered and looked coolly into the reflective eyes of her forces. "…They are soldiers. They fight as they need to. As I need to."

"What cause is worth fighting for if it hurts people who don't deserve it? And how can you drag them into your problems, your desires!? What kind of Saint are you!?" She flinched at his criticism, but he didn't slow. "Sometimes you have to fight, I know that, and sometimes people get hurt. I can't save everyone, not always. But just tell me, what do you think gives you the right to use people like this!?"

She hung her head a moment, short hair just shading her eyes. Like before, Touma sensed indecision.

But then her head shook.

"Right…? That is exactly it. Heh." He couldn't tell if it was a laugh or a sigh. "We must make it right. We must fix the mistakes."

"I don't really understand, but… You won't stop, then?"

Her head shook harder, and she glanced up with a weak smile that shattered his hope. "It was a valiant effort, boy, but not enough. There are reasons I will not explain binding us to this path. You may understand, when this is all over, but even that I cannot promise."

 _Well, damn. All right, improvised plan B!_ "Well, if we have to fight, can we at least do it, you know, honourably?"

"But of course." She waved her hand, and her forces backed away. "There. It is just the two of us now. And no _paramours_ to distract us, _oui_?" Though she winked cheekily, Touma was distracted, eyes shifting.

"Right, yeah, so, let's have a good friendly shake before we fight."  
"Shake of hands… Oh, as a friendly gesture of good will? If you insist." She stretched out her hand, and Touma did the same.

She crossed a few feet closer, and their fingers drew close.

 _…Come on. Just a little-_

At the very last instant she withdrew, and Imagine Breaker snapped into nothing but air.

 _"_ Aah! No, _mon dieu,_ that was close!" She took a careful step back, but was more excited than angry. "I forgot about that remarkable hand I have heard so much about! I almost gave up my soldiers to your guile; _tres impressionnant_!"

"Y-yeah… Sure was c-close." _DAMN DAMN DAMN. This is almost as bad as fighting a Magic God, how lucky do I have to be!?_

"Are you having enough fun, Joan of Arc?"

The cool voice echoed in the chamber, and Touma peered full of worry over the Saint's shoulder to confirm its source.

Striding on the stage where he had first seen the intimidating woman was Miss Baker. She was even dressed the same as before, though now she sported a warmer pair of white tights to cover the legs her black leotard revealed. Her hands were empty, but as his anxiety rose Touma watched her pockets carefully, from bitter experience aware of the tricks they could hold.

"Why do you seem upset?" Joan called back confidentially. "This intruder is powerless here, and I do not mind the chance for a rematch."

"Do not underestimate him. I have heard many things about his feats."

"…If you insist." Touma jumped as the Saint drew a short sword from an unnoticed scabbard, edge gleaning brown under the bright stage lights. She walked steadily around Touma, forcing his hands to the air as she gestured at his back. "This blade is poor, but it shall suffice. That is right, step over to the stage, youth."

He was soon frogmarched to the stage, still decorated as the magic show had left it. He sought an opening to move, to fight, but the Saint's speed was a potent threat.

"Ohohoho, how cruel, Saint!" Touma jumped again when Daedalus crashed his full weight onto the front row of seats, cracking them under the weight of his artificial form. "Mmmm, yes, I forged that sword from the finest alloys I could muster!"

"And brass makes for a poor blade. God, I grow sick of you." The next voice came from the last remaining side, and Touma was neatly hemmed in on centre stage as Agnes floated into place, her brother clutching to one side and Songbird alighting beside her. "At least we have located the intruder. And now that I've fetched my brother we've nearly all assembled. Aside from that newcomer. Did we really have to send him, the pompous wretch? I'm sure I could-"

"He is most suited to the task. And we are all needed here." Baker's head shook, but her eyes remained drilling into Touma. "You and I have much to discuss."

The boy remained silent, carefully surveying his assembled enemies. Each was formidable [4] in their own right, and though he sensed discord they looked too united for him to drive a wedge between them.

 _Which means I've got to fight. As stupid as it is, I've got to find a way._

He clenched his fist and raised it up.

He opened his mouth to shout his challenge.

Until the ground below everyone exploded.

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] Who saw this one coming? I'd left subtle details in each Interlude, give slightly more information about where Miss Baker was hiding, so hopefully this doesn't come as a surprise. And remember, she didn't just destroy the Dianoid, she pulled it into her pocket realm.

[2] Another day, another made up artefact.

[3] Why more enemies haven't tried this on Touma is beyond me. I mean, you could argue his ability to predict attacks makes sneak attacks hard, but he's still human, with limited speed. I assume that the Magic God fight with Othinus is different, because he's basically messing with her head in that one, but a Saint should be able to trip him up no sweat.

[4] In varying degrees. Sorry Songbird. But at least her backstory is bad***. Not that just hers is, though.


	50. Part 2: Chapter 18

**Thank goodness for small miracles: whatever foul computer beast consumed most of my last chapter has not struck again. Which means it's time for another 'on-time' instalment of a Certain Holiday Season. The ball is certainly rolling, but I think we can pump it up a notch, don't you?**

 **Just a heads up: I will be answering any questions not immediately indicative of error on my part like last I did last time. Once book 2 is complete, I'll wait a few days and then a post quick Answer update to clarify any issues. I have not ignored any questions until then, but I just want to answer them all at once if possible (And buy time to think of reasonable responses for topics I never considered).**

 **As an interesting digression, today is alarmingly close to the one year anniversary of this story. I did start writing it earlier than I posted it, but not by more than a few weeks so either way it's a near hit. Whether you've a newer reader or you've been there since the start, I hope you've been able to enjoy A Certain Holiday Season. I know I have. And as always, thanks for sticking with me.**

 **Chapter** **18:**

1:12 A.M., December 29th: The Dianoid, Main Amphitheatre

Joan was quickest to react, leaping nimbly to a clear zone. Baker and the others were hardly slower, but Touma was caught unprepared by the wave of fire blowing apart the floor beneath him. He was thrown backwards, raised hands catching and dissipating the searing shockwave that ruined much of the remaining Christmas decorations.

He felt a familiar heat as he lay on his back, and saw a rush of countless paper tags soar into the amphitheatre, adhering over every surface.

And then the roaring flames of Innocentius gushed from below in an infernal geyser.

Baker and the Summons withdrew as its red-headed master clambered up from the edge, a grim smile on his lips.

"W-what? How did you… Did you follow me?" Touma asked, bewildered as much by the entrance as his sudden shift in fortune, but Stiyl turned with a frown.

"Follow? Don't be foolish. Our infiltration was planned from the start, after we finally pinpointed this base's access point by combining 'The Domesday Map' and 'Lady London's Heart' of Bleeding Heart Yard'. And before you ask I already knew about this lift access to the stage, so this wasn't a last minute diversion to reach your position. It was merely convenient that the enemy assembled here; this isn't about you at all, in any way, shape, or form." [1]

"You're putting that awfully harshly for some reason! And wait, did you say 'our'? Does that mean me, or-"

But their conversation was interrupted as Agnes laughed, and both turned her way. "So, you've an ally now? How amusing. But the odds are hardly even."

"You're right, hag." She frowned as Stiyl chewed the end of a cigarette flickering between his lips. "And it's about to get worse."

Touma furrowed his brow, but a shrill whistle emanating from the now gaping lift between him and Stiyl caught his attention.

From the hole grew a wooden ladder, up like a rocket-propelled beanstalk. It slammed into the ceiling, cracking it deeply as it vibrated wildly.

Hanging from its many rungs was an entire invasion force. The members dropped in quick succession onto the stage below.

"G-God, that makes me queasy…" Bayloupe of New Light stumbled to the ground, holding her stomach as Floris and Lancis patted her back. But all three recovered and darted threateningly towards Daedalus, who crashed back over several rows of seats.

"Get over it." Sherry Cromwell crashed before Agnes and Songbird, forcing both to fly back as her golem formed of carbon panels shook the stage. [2]

"Are you all right, Kamijou-kun?" The Saint formerly of the Amakusan Church had somehow materialized by Touma's side, hoisting him bodily to his feet. But when another Saint skidded to her side in turn, he was protectively flung clear across the open hole.

As he tumbled and cartwheeled the newcomer spoke. "Oh my! H-hello! Ah, I-I mean, greetings once again, noble Kanzaki Kaori…" Joan took several seconds to bashfully brush down her simple cloth garments and tidy her hair, hand whipping about at Mach-speed before she fell into a fighting stance. "I told you were would have another chance to cross blades. Oh, and I hope you've been in _bonne santé_!"

"L-likewise… I think." The opposing Saints stared down each other with varying shades of intensity. Finding his feet, Touma he glanced at Styil's back as the magician faced down Miss Baker. "How? Where'd you all…?"  
The red-headed magician flicked a thumb back over his shoulder. "That artefact is based on the symbolism of Jacob's Ladder and ascending angels: somewhat niche, but highly effective in vertical translations."

"…I can't believe I'm saying this, but its better when Index or Othinus does it."

"Then don't ask me, you dumb-ass!"

"Enough of this distraction." The woman's cool voice cut through the brewing anticipation, and many eyes turned to Miss Baker. "You are reckless to challenge us in my realm."

"This realm is magic, woman." Stiyl grinned, throwing down the butt of his cigarette. "And unlike your other power, we can deal with that."

Miss Baker's retort caught in her throat.

"Yes. We figured it out." Stiyl chuckled, as he ground the embers into the carbon tile. "You're all the same. Least that's what the research department tells us." His eyes narrowed. "Somehow, you're all Gemstone-Magician hybrids. Each and every one of you."

For a long moment there was silence. But finally their leader nodded.

"That is so."

"That's pretty monstrous, but whatever." Floris gave one flick of her blonde hair, lancing out her Steel Glove pole-arm in time with her small wings. "We'll figure out how you broke the rules later."

"Ohohoho, what an interesting spiritual item!" The Greek inventor was undaunted, and in a show of formed several blades of his own. "I see how you've combined several properties based on an unfamiliar set of traditions, very efficient, hmmm. A pity it's not made of brass, yes, so that I may wrap it around your pretty little necks once I've analyzed it fully."

"S-sister, that golem… It's huge, I'm scared…!" Across the room the small boy by Agnes fawned weakly at her dress and she laid a gentle hand on his head.

But her eyes flew like daggers to Sherry Cromwell. "You've scared my brother with that ugly construct, harlot. You will suffer dearly." The boy lurched, and the first signs of his demented flower-form emerged, thin tendrils of vine creeping along the floor.

"Shut it, *****." The magician stood fuming one the golem's lurching shoulder. "And his name is Ellis."

"S-so that mean I get to fight Kamijou Touma, the one with Imagine Breaker? A worthy foe, but I… I…?" Songbird looked to and fro, panic spreading across her features. "Why is no one looking at me!?"

"You will not win this fight, Necessarius." Miss Baker regarded Stiyl as he casually lit another cigarette.

"We'll see." A blazing sword sprung from his hand. "Innocentius."

"H-hold on! All you guys don't need to-!"

Pandemonium broke loose, and it was all Touma could do to not be consumed.

!~~~~~~~~!

1:16 A.M., December 29th: London, Park Plaza Hotel by Westminster Bridge.

The London Eye glowed, motionless but illuminated to shine on downtown London. From where Mikoto stood on top of the large building's roof it was distant, yet it still dominated the skyline.

Its magnificence did nothing to ease her annoyance.

 _Lotta distractions around tonight. So why did they all have to end up in my way?_

Avoiding attention wasn't the problem; rather, it was her inability to not get involved in whatever disturbance she might find. Three times she'd gone out of her way as an explosion rocked the night, and three more times she'd magnetically rocketed away from handfuls of confused officers and fried crooks. It was hardly tiring, but each detour set her itching to return to her personal hunt.

She frowned, rubbing the bridge of her nose beneath her mask as she poured over her map. More police chatter poured in over her hacked radio connection, and for once it was good news. _All the action's heading South? Finally, a clear shot west to the Palace._ "Good. NOW maybe I can get things done."

Or so she thought. For as she pulled herself towards a nearby hospital to sling herself towards Westminister Bridge, her magnetic senses noticed something.

 _…Odd. Isn't that a park? Why so much metal?_ As she swung closer she stalled, hating her own curiosity. But soon her suspicions deepened. _Cars. Lots of them, trucks, and… Crap. Well, at least their guns aren't polymer this time._

She checked her map, seeing that the broad field of snow-laden trees was indeed the Archbishop's Park. [3] A lack of fixed metal forced her to alight in a deep snow bank, but she sprinted as close as she dared before peering over a tall bush.

On the other side, in a snow-cleared field, masked from ordinary scrutiny by a screen of thick trees, was a small army of criminals.

!~~~~~~~~!

1:20 A.M., December 29th: The Dianoid, Main Amphitheatre

Scraps of brass, hunks of burning plant matter, and everything in between flashed through the air above Touma's prone body. The speed of the Saintly duel kicked up a fierce wind that blew debris about in rapid gusts of wind, but the other combatants hardly seemed to care.

It was all getting to be a bit too much for Touma to take lying down.

"THAAAAT'S IT!" He rose, powering through the stiffness in his joints. He deflected a handful of errant attacks as he pushed through the maelstrom to the nearest shape. "LANCIS!" The startled girl grasped her Polearm closely, a twitching piece of Daedalus still caught in its grip steel. "Where is Baker!"

She stared in confusion, cupping her ear. "WHAT!? I can't-!?" A heavy bronze arm burst from behind a cloud of smoke.

Imagine Breaker snaked out and battered it aside almost by instinct as he leaned closer, shouting. "I need to punch Baker! Where is she!?"

"U-uh-!?" Glancing between the wreckage of the failed attack and the boy, Lancis seemed unsure which surprised her more. "I don't know!? That's Stiyl's target, go ask him!?"

 _Oh. Good idea._ "Thanks, Lancis-san." His heavy pat on her back surprised her even more and she leaped away, dodging another attack by accident. But the boy was already gone, striding through more cross winds as he tried to make sense of the battle.

 _Should be easy to find. Where's the brightest, hottest spot?_

Touma crouched low for balance, straining his eyes.

He couldn't quite catch the supersonic duel of the Saints; though their speed slowed enough to avoid injuring their companions, blades and wires were still flashing in all corners of the amphitheatre.

He thought for a second he saw a small bird tumbling about in their wake, but if was buffeted by gale force winds and he soon lost sight of it.

There were also a number of Baker's toys stumbling around, attempting to assist in various fights, but from the looks of it their efforts were equal parts helpful and not. Several grappled with Ellis's thick golem legs, tearing off pieces but they were thrown at Sherry's command into the plant monster's path; Agnes cursed the obstruction aloud, riding ghostlike again within.

Enraged, she sent her brother charging across the battlefield, but a patch of fire diverted the plant creature. It careened out of control with a monstrous cry, one flailing vine lashing Joan by the ankle. Though it did no damage it slowed her sufficiently to allow several dangerous blows from Kanzaki. The Saint was pressed hard enough to force her into Daedalus's side at great speed. They slammed together into a carbon wall in a shower of tiles, but quickly wrenched free to continue the fight with unsettling stamina.

But even so, for the first time today Touma felt emboldened.

"This stupid Holiday training camp…" Floris paused as she grunted with exertion, pivoting with her Steel Glove to force the charging man of brass straight back into his ally. "Might have been good for something after all!"

"Indeed." The two were quickly rammed by Ellis's huge fist, bowling the tangled Summons into several animated toys threatening to trip up Stiyl. Sherry cracked her knuckles as her golem charged after them. "Our teamwork is acceptable now."

"Hey, you can't jump on board that as an excuse! You weren't even participating, you just yelled at us!"  
"Still counts."

In contrast to the Necessarius forces, Touma watched the enemy force stumbling over one another. As if by way of proof a leafy vine snake out across the field towards New Light in a surprise attack, but it was intercepted by lashing sword of fire.

… _Aha! That's it!_ Touma took the few needed steps and brushed aside a screen of smoke to find Stiyl, sword immolating another stuffed toy. "Found you!"

The magician turned, cigarette twitching with his slight grin. "Ah. Surprisingly good timing for once."

Though caught off guard, Touma pressed his case. "Well, where's Baker!? You were fighting her, where-"

"She's gone."

"Then how is that good timing!? That's the opposite of good!" A ripped of piece of brass ricocheted at his head, but Imagine Breaker deflected it before being used to rub furiously at his head. "I need to punch her and shatter her illusions before someone gets hurt in all this craziness!"

"It'll be a minute. She's wily. I burnt up a dozen of her toys soldiers, but she vanished behind their smoke. Still, I doubt she went far. Probably hiding somewhere in this room, looking for a chance to strike. She knows her side is outmatched, even if they're all durable."

Touma clenched his fists, looking through the raging battle for the remembered decorations. "Good! Then I'm going to-" He was stopped as a hand latched onto his collar, choking him lightly.

"No you're not. We need you here."

'W-what? Hey, let go! I've gotta punch her-"

"First, this." Stiyl straightened, letting his fire sword dissipate as he grasped the confused, unfortunate boy with both hands. "Kanzaki! Ready yourself!"

"Ready!" The Saint's distant voice grew quickly closer, and Touma felt a grim foreboding as Styil tightened his grip.

And flungthe boy into the air with all his might, straight into the path of the two clashing Saints.

"AGH-!?"

"O-oh!?"

Joan's shock registered as plainly as Touma's in the fraction of a second they each had. The French Saint was in the middle of a strategic retreat, sword knocked high, but rather than striking at the opening with her long katana Kanzaki let it loose and reached for a new weapon.

Taking hold of Touma's shoulder with one hand and grasping his right wrist with the other, she slapped Joan in the midriff with Imagine Breaker before leaping away, discarded sword retrieved before it completed its first tumbling spin.

The boy collapsed in shock in Kanzaki's arms, blinking stupidly. It was all over so fast that he had barely heard Imagine Breaker's ring as it shattered Joan's ability. But he did see the woman stagger a second, hand cradling her shaking head.

"G-gah… _F-feu de l'enfer_ , that is a strange…" She glanced up, starry eyes flickering with worry. "…T-ch! _Merde_! My soldiers, they are-!"

"Free." The sound of slumping bodies cut through the temporary lull in the battle. The captured magicians fell one by one, some to their knees, other straight to sleep, as they were released from Joan's control. As they mumbled pitifully behind her Kanzaki raised her sword and appraised her opponent with chilly intent. "And now we will defeat you and your allies."

"No! That's not-!" Something close to flustered panic filled the French-woman's face as she clutched her brow. "My Heavenly Persuasion needs several minutes and much concentration, so if we continue fighting… But I don't want to stop… Ah, _que c'est embarrassant,_ even at my worst I've never lost an entire army before…"

"We won't have to. This fight will be over very soon, now that my allies are freed."

Though worried, it soon became clear Joan was more sad than angry at her opponent's words. "…So you really did not enjoy our duel. Or is it that you feel you need assistance to match me? I do not know which is worse…"

"Neither." Kanzaki's firm words cut through silence. "But this way allows me to save everyone."

"Wait, hold on! Time out! D-did you just use me like a human weapon!?" Touma staggered limply to his feet, drawing clear of their way. "I don't wanna be tossed around like a supernatural-destruction grenade! STIYL, WHERE ARE YOU YOU *******!? I've got some extra illusions to shatter!"

"I… I am sorry, Kamijou-kun, but I was convinced this was the only way. Joan of Arc is simply too much for me to overcome, especially when she still draws endurance from her victims."

The accused paled, hands waving vainly before her. " _Je n'étais pas, je le jure!_ If I was, it was an accident, I insist! I-I must have been so drawn into the fight, I did not want it to end! Ah, _merde, je suis un tricheur et une fraude!_ " She stamped her foot in consternation, sending up a cloud of debris.

"W-whatever it is that is upsetting you, I must warn you it is about to get worse." Kanzaki's resolve became as firm as the grasp on her sword. "It is fortunate the spell you use is so old-fashioned: it was easier than I expected to adapt it to my own use."

"…Oh? _Je ne comprende…_?" The Maid of Orleans trailed off in wonder as Kanzaki focused, wires whipping about her head.

They suddenly solidified in a particular fashion, and a burst of magic flowed through. A magical circle had been completed.

 _But what did it…_ "…Hey!? You guys are okay!?"

Looking behind Kanzaki, Touma saw that not all the captured, exhausted magicians were sleeping any more.

The magicians of the Amakusa-Style Remix of Church all stood, slowly drawing their weapons as life returned to their bodies.

And in turn, Kanzaki Kaori, their Saint and leader, slumped. But sword point digging into the ground, she remained on her feet.

" _I-Incroyable!_ But you have made no connection to them, _c'est impossible_! How can you use my attribute-apportionment magic so easily!?"

"We already have a connection: I am their Supreme Pontiff." Controlling her breath, Kanzaki twisted her head behind her to address her revived church. "There is no time to explain. This is the worst case scenario."

"Supreme Pontiff, what are you…" The tallest of the bunch, a wiry young man with a wild hairdo, lost the grin that had been creeping across his lips. "…You're saying that's a Saint? Well, damn. And of course you're here, Kamijou." The man nodded at Touma, but was rewarded with only a blank stare. "What?"

"Tatemiya Saiji? You were here this whole time?"

"…Of course I was, you moron! Did you not see me at Christmas!? I competed in the events, was at the mall cheering on Itsuwa-san and the Pontiff; Hell, we spoke at least five times!" [4]

Touma's vapid look only soured the man further.

"T-tch. Well, whatever! We're here to save the day, so sit tight."

That claim was enough to shake life back in the boy. "H-hold on, that's-"

"Hey, don't worry, we know. You remember from last time. This's exactly the kind of thing we're here for!" He surveyed the rest of the Church, and they nodded as he hoisted his flamberge. "Right, get into position! Avoid the other fights, the Saint's our target! And adapt the spell to use the Pontiff instead of Itsuwa!"

"That's not what I-!" The stomping feet drowned him out, and they quickly surrounded Joan of Arc, with Kanzaki at their core.

The woman sighed, glumly raising her chipped brass sword with empty eyes. " _Ceci est une telle déception_. Is this truly how you wish to face me? Kanzaki Kaori, I thought you more proud than that. I did not use them against you in our duel. And worse, they may not survive this fight, _n'est pas_?"

"They will. I will ensure it."

"But how? You can hardly stand, after giving them all your strength. You are hardly a fit challenge any more."

"We'll see. Kamijou-kun, stay back. Unlike last time, I want to do this without you."

The memory of a certain underground battlefield in Academy City came to mind, and Touma finally recognized the formation the Amakusan forces were taking. But before he could intervene, they exploded into action.

Shocked by their speed Joan retreated, sword swinging lightning fast at any target she could reach.

But each foe she struck at suddenly withdrew, deep into the protective fold of the whole. She was unable to pick off a warrior to lessen the odds against her, and incredibly, the Saint was on the defensive.

Her blade a frayed and cracked mess under repeated blows, she fell further and further back under the onslaught, voice hoarse with exertion. " _S-sacre bleu!?_ Mere ordinary soldiers!?"

"Combining our body-strengthening formations with our leader's shared strength!" Tatemiya Saiji dove in and out of range, sword just one of fifty attacks being launched. "Pontiff, get ready! You don't have a spear, but you know what to do!"

"R-right." Wobbling on her feet, Kanzaki approached the melee and turned her eyes upwards.

" _Ça suffit_! Enough of this!" Joan was forced into the air, leaping back and away from the sudden assault. She hung above them a moment, suspended by inertia, looking instead for where her true opponent stood.

So she missed the warning signs.

"Do it… P-Pont…" With the others, Tatemiya Saiji collapsed, strength returned to its proper home as their role finished.

Still looking, Joan realized her target had moved. She cast about as she flew back, until a strange purplish-blue light crackled behind her.

She half-spun in the air.

Directly in her path was Kanzaki Kaori, bursting with vitality and mysterious electricity.

As a holy symbol of divinity herself, Kanzaki took the place of the symbolic Spear of Longinus in Saint-Destroyer and slammed her own palm straight into Joan of Arc's chest.

A cross of lightning blossomed around them, and the amphitheatre was rocked by successive explosions.

!~~~~~~~~!

1:28 A.M., December 29th: London, Archbishop's Park

Though her first impulse had been to start playing criminal Pachinko with the massed crooks and their equipment, Mikoto had hesitated and let the night air cool her down before sneaking closer.

It had taken several careful minutes to steal close to the action, but as she crouched between several empty crates she heard a casual conversation. It was whisper-quiet, but she could creep just a bit closer to listen.

 _Always a bit of time to snoop, I guess. Especially since I bet HE's nearby._

"What are you complaining about?" The first figure muttered to his partner, unaware of the girl just behind their backs. "The diversions are going well: only a few local blokes got busted, and none of them can rat this strike out. We're in the clear."

"You're one of the old guard, you can tell. The Shark's gone off the deep end again. Saw him shoot a new guy in the leg for making a joke: right in the knee-cap, pow." The guard made a little finger gun and pantomimed a brutal execution, but his companion just shrugged.

"Yeah, well, he used to be like that, you remember. Way back in the day he was just blank like this, right? No emotion. Flat affect, they call it in psychology."

"Dude, are you ever going to get tired of flaunting your education?"

"Shut up. Anyway, that's the look of a Killer, through and through. He got a little more dramatic over time, you remember; after the Crown Jewel fiasco it all stared slipping, you know? Think it was all this weird stuff he keeps ranting about, making him careful? Like before?"

"Not a clue. I just hope he doesn't find out that super-girl or whatever is back, and messing with the distractions. He'll send this whole force her way, I know it! He already wants revenge on that damn Baker woman bad enough…"

Mikoto had to fight back a pleased snicker, but the next thing she heard shorted out her good humour.

"…Though at least with her we've got the hostages."

!~~~~~~~~!

1:30 A.M., December 29th: The Dianoid, Main Amphitheatre

Finally the pounding subsided.

In such a contained room, the explosions from the Saint-Destroyer spell had rebounded endlessly, shaking carbon tiles loose and forcing all other combat to a standstill. It was only after a minute that Touma was able to clear his head of the reverberations, sitting up from where he had been knocked to his backside.

He remained near the epicentre, among the still unconscious Amakusan Christians, their energy spent. So he only had a move a few feet closer to see Kanzaki through the dissipating smog, standing distraught over her fallen enemy.

"I! …I was wrong. T-truly… A stalwart blow." The Saint known as Joan of Arc coughed weakly on her back, a thin trickle of blood running from her grin. " _M-Magnifique_ …! A-a far better death… Than my last…"

"You're not like Acqua of the Back, so why…" Though there was pain on Kanzaki's face, Touma guessed it was not from the wound her arm sustained in the attack. "That spell should not have seriously harmed you. It should only have brought you to normal human levels, like it did my hand when I struck you. You would still be a gemstone and a magician, but just lose your Sainthood! I merely wanted to restrain you, but this-!"

"…D-do not fret so, _ma cherie_ … This is war, _n'est pas_?" The woman attempted to raise her arm, but her hand remained pinned under the weight of her own brass sword.

"No. No, this isn't." Breathing shallowly Kanzaki knelt, studying, memorizing the woman she had struck down. "I never… I save everyone, even those God has forsaken, even my foes! I don't want to… I-"

Whatever she was going to say, it was cut off by curt, barking laughter. Wide-eyed, the Japanese Saint said nothing more as Joan laughed through the pain.

"T-then… Have no… Fear, because… It is as I told you before." If each word was a battle to get out, Joan proved herself a fighter. To the last she struggled, proudly grinning under her starry eyes. "You cannot kill… I… Already dead…"

Joan let her eyes closed, but her smile never faded.

Touma had to look away, Kanzaki's face too painful to bear.

It carried a feeling he was all too familiar with.

"It's like she said, Kanzaki." Stiyl's voice carried across the silence, cigarette for once abandoned. "She's already dead, as far as history cares. They all were. Not even you can save her now. And they are just false-entities; nothing comes back from the dead." Though his words were cruel, Touma thought he could recognize a brief look of compassion as the Red-head Magician sighed. "For now we need to find the ringleader and prevent her next steps."

The boy blinked, realized belatedly what his words implied. Looking around confirmed his worst suspicions.

The fight was already over. He saw the pile of smouldering slag metal that was once Daedalus, still weakly steaming under the peripheral heat of Innocentius' flames. There was no sight at all of any other summons, save for dozens of severed vines and a few scorched feathers. All the pieces glowed with a strange light, as the magic that had brought them back to life struggled to sustain itself.

He felt his gut lurch.

"No… Not them all?"

"Ah, they put up a fight, but it wasn't much really." Bayloupe's shrug affirmed her indifference, shared by the rest of New Light. "They're weird, but Baker didn't create the strongest of allies. Wonder why…"

"There should be one more around, so don't let your guard down." Ellis crumbled into its constituent parts as Sherry stepped lightly to the ground, aiming a kick at an errant length of vine.

"Are they… Are they all dead!?" _No... This feels wrong, why-_

"Why the Hell should I care?" The glare Sherry cast him was blistering. "That witch acted like she loved her brother, but was using him like a weapon. That's the exact opposite of what I do with Ellis… I have no sympathy for scum like that, especially if they're not even alive."

"Spread out. She can't have gone far." "Stiyl let his voice echo around the chamber, still layered in his runes. "I suspect right about now Miss Baker's discovered how I modified my summoning cards."

Though still reeling, Touma weakly glanced his way. "Modified…?"

"Since you don't like my explanations… Just know that some now include reference to binding: unless she can get out of their area physically they'll block her teleportation and translocation Magic. So I know you're here somewhere." His last line he spoke louder, raising his arms as Innocentius roared back into life. "Don't make me find you the hard way."

"I've had as much of this as I can take." Stiyl noted with mild interest the boy who strode between him and his fiery creation. "You're not going to try to kill her, are you?"

He looked down on him with a grimace. "No. Her, we have orders to take alive if possible."

"What does that mean?"

"It means he wants me to give myself up."

Lancis turned her head lazily before flying back in shock, pushing hard into Floris as Miss Baker materialized beside them. The woman strode confidently up to the Touma and Stiyl, and the latter appraised her slowly.

"In plain sight? That couldn't be translocation, and that wasn't invisibility; I would have seen you through the shimmering heat. So…" His eyes gouged into hers, but nothing was revealed. "It doesn't matter. Not now."

"Wait." Touma's hand was faster than the other boy, and it pushed into the magician's path. "I want to talk for a second."

"…If you insist. Don't get yourself killed: I'll need your hand in a minute anyway." The redhead took a step back, but his gaze never wavered from its target.

"Well?" The woman under scrutiny Baker stared at Touma, betraying little behind her cool expression.

"I spoke with Am… With your teacher."

That earned a reaction: her long lashes fluttered a moment, like a butterfly stretching its wings.

The thought reminded him of another blue butterfly he'd seen recently. He almost smiled.

But instead shook his head as she recovered and gazed haughtily his way. "And?"

"I know you lied to him, and he does too."

This time, though Touma was looking for a reaction, he was disappointed. "So?"

"He still wants me to help you. And no, not help you do villainy and all that," Touma quickly waved away the shouted objections from New Light, "But make sure things work out. He didn't say as much, but I think he wanted me to find out exactly what you're trying to do."

"And why should I tell you anything?'

"He thinks… I think you're going about it the wrong way, but maybe you're not wrong in wanting to do something. So just tell me, what is making you want to do all this? Maybe we can help with the problem. It's worth a shot, isn't it? Does anyone else have to suffer?"

He could tell his plea had not gone unheard. And if he lied to himself just a bit, he could just about see what might be sadness in her eyes.

But instead she just laughed, once: soft and bitter.

"I could tell you were going to annoy me the minute I laid eyes on you."

"You mean back… In the magic show?" _I give that bad a first impression?_

She nodded. "Even before you started disrupting its true magic. And then you got in the way again. Again, and again. Just like you're going to do now." She almost threw up her hands in honest expiration, but checked herself as New Light lowered their pole-arms abruptly. "…Still, I'll tell you what you want. There is no reason not to."

Touma waited with apprehension.

"…We're going to fix the mistakes. That's all."

Someone he knew she was telling the truth. But that belief helped little.

 _Mistakes?_ "That's not… I don't get it."

But Miss Baker ignored him, eyes burning with indignation. "Yet here we are! You've defeated my forces. You've penetrated the heart of my defences. You've won."

She swung one empty hand towards him, ignoring the clinking of blades around her as New Light leaped to encircle her.

"So go ahead. Touch my hand and dispel all my work."

Floris, Lancis, and Bayloupe each shared a look before glancing at Stiyl. He in turn turned to Touma, who was utterly without response. Though the boy shrugged in bewilderment Miss Baker continued.

"Go on. Shatter my illusions. That's what you said last time, isn't it?"

Once again, Touma fought to understand the woman, see through her mask.

 _Amazo said she's a great actor. But this is almost amateurish. Why is she…? Does she really want me to…?_ "Say, Stiyl. What is Necessarius going to do to her, once this is all over?"

The redhead mused a moment before stretching his shoulders. "Interrogate her, and then bind her in one of our prisons. If there's any real threat motivating her actions, we'll find out. One way or another."

"… All right then." He turned back to Miss Baker's inscrutable expression and proffered hand. _That's not the look of someone who's given up, but… Still, this is for the best. I'll just have to talk to her after, try to make things better._

Finally he reached out with Imagine Breaker, awkwardly realizing this wasn't quite as satisfying as the punch he was used to.

It rang out, hitting an unseen well of depthless power.

Many things happened in quick succession.

Baker herself grimaced in pain, falling forward while clutching her stomach. But behind her dishevelled hair , splayed over her face as she bowed forward, he saw her grin.

In the corner of his eye he saw the glow around the remnants of the summons flicker, before bursting with renewed power. And the fragments began to shift.

The Dianoid shuddered and lurched, before flipping upside down and every which way all at once. Even those still standing failed to find balance, quickly flung to the far corners of the amphitheatre.

But even that disruption played second fiddle to the apparition forming on centre stage.

As Touma flew away from Miss Baker, the solitary island of stability in the madness, he saw for one brief instant a dark chasm opening on the surface of her stomach.

It was a like a tear in the world itself. It churned and spun, but was so dark its torrents bled into one another. It was so dark that nothing inside could be seen.

But still Touma felt a gaze upon him, through her fingers that sought to hold in its pain, and it chilled him to the bone.

Then he was gone, flung out of sight and into a wall of decorations. Cardboard crumpled, and he blindly grasped a long ribbon, protecting him from the worst of the tumultuous typhoon that had become the amphitheatre.

The spinning had not slowed; if anything it accelerated, magicians and glowing remnants and carbon tiles tossed like so much salad. A twist of the building carried him close to her again, and swinging on his ribbon he struggled to touch her, to dispel whatever magic Imagine Breaker had somehow set loose.

But he was only within reach of her weak, mocking words. "My last trick. You didn't end the prophecy. You just weakened my control on it."

His mind spun with both confusion and vertigo, but the Dianoid flipped again, taking him with it.

Colliding mid-air with an unconscious Amakusan Christian nearly set him loose, but his grip held long enough to notice Baker screaming out.

"No! I am in control!" The darkness under her hand swelled, pressing back on her hands as both now fought to repress it. Though pale with pain the magician refused to give ground. "I AM NOT YOUR VESSEL!"

The battle inside her raged as fiercely as the world about her, but eventually, shaking and dripping sweat, Miss Baker fell to her knees.

The darkness subsided, defeated.

So too subsided the chaotic motion of the Dianoid, finally stabilizing as Miss Baker regained control of her magic.

"…And now I'll take your power for a bit, First."

She waved a hand before her.

Where it sliced the air itself tore. And a gaping portal appeared, revealing an aerial view of snow-covered London.

Strong winds gushed through, but rapidly their direction revered. The Dianoid itself tilted again, funnelling the invading Necessarius magicians out through the hole, conscious or not. Even Kanzaki Kaori was no match, weakened from her fight.

Touma was last to go, and he slid by Miss Baker, his ribbon tearing as he met her triumphant eye.

"We'll see you again, Imagine Breaker!"

And then he was through the portal, a world of white below him.

!~~~~~~~~!

1:29 A.M., December 29th: London, Archbishop's Park. 

"Ah? Really? I haven't heard about these hostages."

Mikoto had to lean in close as the criminal's voices dropped even lower. _Who are these guys talking about? I've got to be careful, but this sounds important._

"…Yeah, keep it hush. But we finally figured out who exactly our American employer wanted guarded with our men. Turns out that they're all part of the other woman's family. You know, the strange one."

"What, her?. No ****! This whole time? Hehe, well, that's a nice card. Guess now I know why the Shark's always so paranoid."

"He ain't always right, but I got to admit, I thought our employer was just covering her own ***: never would have thought that quiet family she was with weren`t actually her own."

"Well, wasn't clever enough. But, ah, the Shark was already cut loose, yeah? You think the businesswoman is still even there?"

"He was dropped by Baker, the middle man, and not our real employer: those two can't be friendly, right? Or else why the hostages and the two-timing? The American probably thinks she can buy us back, so I bet she'll stay put. She still needs security after all."

The other man snorted dismissively, shaking his head. "Too bad the Shark's not likely to take a deal now. He just wants revenge, and bad. I figure once the Palace is all wrapped up, he'll send out some boys to bring her and the family over for tea. Maybe even go visit them all himself."

"Charming…"

"Rightio, lads! We're moving out!" The sudden shout startled the criminals and Mikoto alike, all used to the quiet of the winter landscape.

But they quickly jumped to life, scrambling for a pair of motorcycles. Soon the field was ablaze with engines and headlights, shouts waking the night all around.

 _Right, enough distraction! Time to clean up then find him once and for-!?_

She paused as he head felt suddenly light. There was a massive thunderclap, and then a rush of wind that blew the snow from the trees and criminals to the ground. It was as if a shockwave had formed from the leading edge of an explosion.

But there was no glow, no heat wave. Instead it was as if something huge had displaced the air itself. So Mikoto merely turned her face upwards, following the motion of the now panicking thugs.

"W-what!? What is that!? Where'd it come from!?"

"It's huge; some secret government weapon!?"

"M-maybe it's a blimp, just a blimp! We can shoot down a blimp, right?"

For a moment their assault hung in indecision, shadowed by a huge shape floating in the sky. It was at least a kilometer high and distant over the River Thames, but it still hung like an ornament from the crescent moon it eclipsed. It seemed to glisten, like a spinning bauble.

There was a burst of lightning in Archbishop's park, and several vehicles shorted. One tipped over completely, slamming hard onto its side.

Its driver kicked open his door and tumbled out a shaking mess. "W-what was that!? The whole van just tipped over!"

"Forget it! Get in the back of ours, we've got to move, now!" Another man set down his walkie-talkie, white faced but firm. "Shark says we go anyway!"

'G-god damn it, are we getting paid enough for this!?" But in ragtag order, the demoralized criminal army peeled out despite their fear and confusion, ignoring the sudden magnetic launch that had disturbed them so.

Far above them and gaining height fast was Mikoto, drilling upwards dart-like, whipping winds dragging at the very limits of her endurance. As she neared the floating object she understood why her instincts had insisted on haste.

With the moon behind it, the mysterious object was lit from below by the London Eye. Lit enough to see it was an all too familiar shopping mall, tipped on its side like a massive pepper shaker.

And like a shaker it spilt its grains, tiny dots of blackness dropping from the sky, visible as they passed before errant clouds.

And among the grains Mikoto was certain she heard a familiar voice, matching a tiny, tumbling figure spinning wildly in the night.

And it was a long way away.

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] Not me, though. I remembered the lift, which last time Touma took down. Long term planning pays off. Same to the namedropping of the magical artefacts I created in Chapter 9. I intended to foreshadow their use more but found no time for Stiyl to hint it. Still, at least I mentioned them once before, right?

[2] If you're wondering how it got here, she summoned it off panel in the hallways below. That ladder is strong.

[3] The coincidence is not lost on either Mikoto or I, but I admit this just happened to be conveniently located. If you'll notice, a quick Google Maps visit will give you a pretty good idea of Mikoto's journey. Just a twist of fate about the names. Really. I swear.

No, this time for real.

[4] Subtle self-jab here. I didn't forget about him or the rest of the Amakusan's, but I saw no need to elaborate on their presence until now. I figured it was implied, but this guy's character is pretty fun (He's the one always needling people are dressing up erotically for Touma). So here's my belated apology to him.

[5] B-B-B-B-BONUS footnote. Those hoping for an epic Touma fight will not be disappointed in the long run. I've just got to set up the right circumstances. I remember people clamouring to have Touma go full ham all the way back in Part 1: your voices have not gone ignored. But you will have to be fairly patient, and for that I apologize. A little. He'll have his moment.


	51. Part 2: Chapter 19

**Hey there, everyone. It's be a little hectic, getting these edited in time. I** **apologize if it looks like I forgot or am ignoring any questions; I just want to save them for a few weeks when I'll be answering a bunch anyway, and so I can be both informative and funny. If I wait until the end I'll be able to give more full and robust answers, so just hold tight!**

 **And speaking of the end, we're almost there. This is actually another update I was really looking forward to: I know that no matter what you do, the middle of a trilogy is often the most boring part (I call it** _ **The Two Towers**_ **syndrome). With luck the next three updates can at least bridge the gap to Part 3 in an interesting way. I hope you can enjoy it, and as always, thanks for sticking with me.**

 **Chapter 19:**

1:32 A.M., December 29th: London, Airspace above the Thames River

"-EEEEALY HAAAAATE MAAAAAAALLSSSS!"

It was difficult to yell loud enough to drown out the rushing winds, but even the smallest of victories was meaningful to Touma as he plummeted towards London. He thrashed his limbs ineffectually as the others victims of Miss Baker's sudden power became lost in the night sky. Hopelessly lost, just like he was about to be.

For an absurd second, he imagined his winter coat having a built in parachute. He reached for its chest pocket for a make-believe rip-cord, only to remember it still lay in his room.

But he had little time for regrets; the ground approached: his impact likely just on the shore of the River Thames. There was some huge, brightly lit strip below him, jutting out over the water. He prayed it was soft even as he knew it was not.

It grew closer, now huge. He grit his teeth as his fear and frustration reached a fever pitch.

"SUUUUUCH MISSSSSFOOOOR-"

A streak of blue rocketed into him, so hard it nearly drove him back up into the sky.

"Uhn!?"

The force blew the complaint from his lips and the wind from his chest, and he hung together in the air with whatever hit in a moment of stupefaction.

That same whatever winced as it collided with his gut, stiffening as he reflexively wrapped his arms around it.

But the miracle that had diverted his fall was not enough to thwart gravity forever; with his new burden Touma's fall began anew.

 _What was that!? Who is this!?_ _What happened, are we both going to splat, I've got to-_

"L-let go with that HAND, IDIOT!"

He obeyed the muffled voice instantly, detaching Imagine Breaker's death grip despite every instinct screaming to latch on to salvation. When he did, Touma felt a familiar tingle coursing up the hairs on the back of his neck. Suddenly he and saviour alike were wrenched sideways, slamming into something hard and cool. It drove the wind from him again, but he managed to slap both hands on the smooth surface before sliding off a rounded edge into another fall. There he lay, hugging the ground closely.

"Wow… Close one." Mikoto straightened her mask, trying to distract her gleefully beating heart. _But_ _I do hate going that fast… Need to install goggles or something: as it is this mask isn't going to cut it._ It could not even hide the grin on her face as she turned to the boy. "You're such a pain; how many times are you going to fall out of the sky like that?"

"Eerg…"

"Hey! Hey, you all right?" Suddenly worried she scrambled across the rounded surface, grabbing Touma by the shoulders lift him upright. "I need more than groan here!"

"T-the others… They…? Who caught…?" Eyes still unfocused Touma tried and failed to understand, fist half clenching in preparation for another battle.

"I guess that answers my question." _Never change, Idiot._ She pointed a finger up. "I saw someone else catch them, moving really fast: I can't believe they beat me there. I don't know if they saw you or not because you were up way higher, so you'd have to have been specifically looking for you t-to…" Though briefly embarrassed by what she implied, as her gaze drifted up she trailed off for a different reason.

The floating Dianoid was gone.

While the esper pondered that mystery Touma finally calmed the rattling in his brain, both hands holding the spinning at bay. He blinked at the girl for several moments before she noticed his gaze.

"Misaka…? Why aren't you in the Cathedral? No… Don't tell me those *******s made you part of their plan!?"

"What? No, of course not!"

"Aaaah… Good. That's a-"

"I came on my own, obviously."

"That might be worse!" His outburst shocked the girl, and she wilted as he fell into accelerating panic. "Why would you go out for a midnight stroll in a situation like this!? Why are you here? For that matter, where even ARE we!?" His questing hands finally found the edge of their platform, and he leaned over the side as he finally recognized the London Eye. "T-that Ferris Wheel!? Of all places, we landed on this!?"

"Excuse me!?" He jumped, sensing an onslaught. But though she sparked, Mikoto held back her wrath. "THAT'S your thank you!? After all that work!?"

"Eh? I mean, well, yeah, thank you, but-"

"I'm a bigger girl than I look, you Idiot! Why else do you think I chased you around all night!?" She fumed, practically steaming in the cool night air, but quickly froze under Touma's searching gaze.

"…All night?"

Once again, she blessed her butterfly mask for covering at least her cheeks.

Touma puffed his own out, exhaling sharply before waving his finger in reproach. "Misaka, you're a growing girl, you-"

"THIN ICE."

"N-Not what I! I meant! A-ah, look, why were you looking for me is what I meant, all right!?" His hurried explanation was barely enough to stall her tirade.

But it did more than that. Beyond all his expectations, Mikoto became flustered.

"W-well! I! I was-! Was…" Suddenly intensely interested he watched her toy with her fingers, then her hair. By the time she moved to her collar he tried again, but as he began to speak her mirrored her. Flustered now himself, and uncertain why his stomach felt like he was falling again, he waved for Mikoto to continue.

After one last, shuddering sigh, she did.

"…Worried. You weren't in your room, okay?"

He was silent.

She ground her teeth, unable to look at him.

When she finally did, he was as pale as a ghost.

"…You were in my room? W-why were…" _Oh god I didn't leave anything out that might earn me a… N-no, no, we're not in Academy City, it's okay. Breathe again, Kamijou-san, breathe… And she was already there, you dolt. So what… What am I so af-_

"Hey! Snap out of it, you weirdo! Space-cadet! Idiot!" Her fingers snapping before his eyes broke his introspective spell. "I was looking for you, didn't I just say!? Is that really so strange!?"

"Not back when you were trying to find me to fry me every night, maybe, but now? Kinda!?" His explosively emotional reply set the girl back, and he fought his way back to the centre of the platform. "Why the heck would people go out of their way to find or talk to me if it's not something leading to more misfortune!? That's not how my life works, anything else is what's strange!"

Though she retreated a step back she quickly surged forward again, meeting him levelly despite her blush. "Hey! I already said I'm not doing that anymore! And why do you have to be so pessimistic!? Maybe there's a good reason for things happening, ever think of that!?"

"So why!? Why look for me!?" He pressed forward, shouting hard. "What possible reason could you have!?"

"I was LOOKING for you," She said, mimicked his actions, "Because I HAD something to TELL you!"

"What!? What did you have to tell me!?"

"I can't! Not NOW! It's all wrong!"

"Why not!? What's wrong!?" Though the sum total of his memories was smaller than the average, Touma could still remember being angry, sad, happy, scared; any emotion one could name. But tonight, for a reason he could not explain, he had never felt so frustrated. "Just tell me! Please!"

"I can't just TELL you that I-"

An explosion rocked the night, just before the words she had never expected left her lips.

The London Eye rattled, sending both off balance. Touma's hands latched out, cancelling out Mikoto's magnetic efforts to stand, but he held them both firmly regardless. Their heads turned together to a bridge in the south.

 _W-Westminster Bridge? No, it's still standing, so that wasn't…_ It was only when Mikoto squinted that she recognized the large parade of vehicles storming across its causeway. "…Ahhh! The criminals, I forgot about them! Crap, crap crap!"

"Criminals? What? Didn't we stop them? Misaka? Misaka, answer me, don't just stare at them!" He fought the urge to shake her in his grip, but the esper ignored him long enough to access her phone's map.

"Did they really just blow up the road access on that side? What are they… Cutting off the police? They're making their move? Daaaamn iiiit…"

"What are they doing!? What's even going on!?"

"E-eh?" The girl finally looked up. Felt his hands on her arms, the warmth of his body, and his face altogether too close to hers. "…E-e-e-eh-"

"…MISAKA!"

"They're attacking Buckingham Palace!" She blurted it out all at once.

Touma stared at her a minute.

He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

Eventually he did neither, only sighing. "…So that's why you were... Guess at least… Glad it was a good reason."

"What?" Something felt wrong to Mikoto, but he waved away her concern with a simple smile.

"Never mind. Look, we've got to stop them. I'm friends with the royals, but even if I weren't these crooks can be up to no good." He straightened, wincing as his bones complained.

"Hey, hold on." Mikoto fought free from his weakened grasp and, stepping back, looked him over.

His bare arms shivered in the cool, marred with tiny scratches and small bruises. He wobbled under a sudden stiff breeze, but forced himself upright as his bare arms shivered. As he rubbed them, it was Mikoto's turn to sigh.

"…Can you even fight like that, you idiot? You never change."

"Gotta try." His confident grin was as reassuring as ever, as he turned his gaze to the rapidly fleeing criminals. "But the real problem is catching them, they're so-"

He felt a change in the air.

Mikoto had bent low, both hands resting on the top of the egg-shaped container they still stood atop. It may have even been the same container they had ridden inside with the Archbishop and Index. It mattered little as she briefly surged with lightning, magnetic fields expanding.

Her power spread down and out, arcing from one capsule of the Ferris wheel to another. Soon the entire London Eye was aglow with a very different source of power.

And its motors roared into life.

"Get inside and strap in. And don't touch anything with your hand."

"…M-Misaka don't be hasty I mean this is a national symbol and costs a lot of money and I don't think it has seat-belts so we _really_ should not just-"

"Less so than the Palace." The London Eye began to spin, and Touma gave up any comment in his mad rush to the now open capsule door. Behind him, Mikoto continued with a strained grin. "After all, a wheel is a wheel, isn't it?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"And I even left my favourite mix tape in there…"

"Are you still *****ing back there about your van? Jesus, you're a whiny one. Why're all the new guys such babies, eh?"

The driver's passenger shared in his chuckle, but as they laughed the man crouched in the back of his new ride scowled all the harder. He slammed his fist on one of the many piles of equipment to get their attention.

"Not just that, you *******! You guys may be used to this sort of **** but I didn't sign up to the thug life for this!"

"Easy, cool your heels-"

"I was there for the Jewel heist, you know! I was the guy on the rail cart, getting away with the Shark! Would have gone grand, but then those god-damned super heroes showed up, blasting lighting and punching helicopters out of the sky!'

"…Well, that was strange, I'll admit, but-"

"And all that business in the Mall, I was there too! That damn tank flipping upside took ten years off my life! My back still hurts!"

"Y-yeah, I heard about that one, but-"

"And then today, my own damn truck gets pushed over like it was made of cardboard, and I DON'T EVEN KNOW FROM WHAT!"

The young man clutched at his hair as his two seniors shared a look.

"…He's got a point. "

"Don't you start, Larry." The driver shook his head, waving away the passenger's point before spinning back around to their unplanned hitchhiker. "Take deep breaths and calm down, you coward. Just be grateful this at least is going-"

A tremendous noise in the distance cut him short.

It was a horrible shriek of metal, a sound like the world itself was coming apart.

And it was coming closer.

The car skidded to a stop. So too stopped the rest of the convoy, each individual member likely fearing the same thing.

"The bridge!? Is it collapsing…!?" The driver of the van leant out his window, but a strange light caught his eye. The street, the bridge, even the icy River Thames underneath them was glowing with unusual reflected lights. Lights that spun and spun and spun.

He turned backwards to their source, like many of his comrades.

They all saw the same horrifying vision of the London Eye slamming down onto the bridge behind them.

His van bounced three feet from the impact, briefly stunning the driver. When he came to, the Ferris wheel had begun to spin anew, crackling with spare electricity. But it was no longer restrained by any sensible mooring, so as it spun it began to roll forward.

It slowly crunched the concrete between the two lines of criminal vehicles, cars and trucks alike burning rubber to get out of the way.

But each car soon slowed, briefly arcing with electricity, before being sucked back into the side of London Eye with a clang. And there they stuck, screaming criminals and all, lifted bodily into the sky on the mad carnival ride.

The driver fell back into his seat, ashen-faced to gaze ahead vacantly. "…Bloody Hell."

"See!? SEE!?" The man in the back was perversely pleased. "THIS is exactly what I mean! What're supposed to do about that?"

Though their own vehicle was well along the bridge, the Ferris Wheel was accelerating. The leading cars might get away, but those behind them had nowhere to go. A few had already chosen to chance the icy Thames water, but most were stuck in a gridlock of their own confusion as they tried to escape.

"'Ello? What, no plan then?" The man in back waited, but the others were distracted by terror. Eventually he just nodded to himself. "Right, that's it. I quit." The one-time criminal crossed his arms and slumped back among the supplies as their van lifted from the ground. [1]

!~~~~~~~~!

"Just wish we coulda brought the tank." Alone in the back seat of his Sedan, the Shark drummed his fingers on the upholstery as they cruised down Birdcage Walk. The open park of the Crown Lands opened up on the right, and he enjoyed the view. "I wanted to punch a hole right into the State rooms."

"Yes sir. Sir? Despite the radio silence you ordered, I'm getting some chatter from the assault crew. Lot of it, actually." The driver called over his shoulder between the two front seats.

"What are they doing back there? Haven't they cleared the bridge yet?"

"Don't know sir, they're all talking at once, asking for you. And… Their Mama's, sir? I think." The driver reached over his shoulder to hand a buzzing radio receiver to the back seat.

"You answer it."

"Driving, sir. 'Gainst the law."

"…First thing I change, laws. Fine, give it here." The Shark fumbled with his lanky hands for the walkie-talkie, muttering as he did. "How am I s'posed to walk up with an army if my army… Huh?"

Though he could finally hear the panicked voices through the receiver, something else he heard demanded priority. Though it was the fact he felt it in the ground as well that it managed to earn his attention.

He twisted awkwardly in his seat, knees bumping against the driver's seat until he froze.

Something huge rounded the bend behind him.

Just barely scraping through on the narrow road between two low-lying buildings spun the towering London Eye, covered with honking cars stuck like flies to a trap. The whole thing glowed obscenely, lightning crackling of to burst street lights and blow the power of whole city blocks. The pavement was pummelled under its weight, windows rattled and dogs set to barking. It scooped up the last of the leading cars of his former army, and swept towards him with frightening speed.

"…Bull ******* horse-****. You're joking me."

"Sir? Sir, what…!?" The driver wondered at his boss' emotionally empty surprise until he peered through his mirrors. If the roads weren't dead with the hour, he would have easily caused an accident of his own as he veered deep into the wrong lane.

Frantically trying to recover from his mistake, the driver felt a cold claw of a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

"Don't slow down."

"W-w-w-wouldn't dream of it sir!"

"Knew I shoulda gone for the hostages first. Stupid, Finlay, _very_ stupid." As the earthquake grew and grew the Shark let his upper body lean out the window, ignoring the car's mad swerving. His face was impassive, like a powered down automaton. He calmly pulled a sub-machine gun from inside the car, clicking it loaded. "Getting sloppy."

Without any real goal or expectation of success he loosed his clip into the Ferris Wheel. What fire didn't go wide merely sparked off the vehicles around it. He sighed, reaching for another clip until he felt his grip on the weapon contested. He fought for a second but it was soon wrenched out of his hand, and the glow of the Eye was upon them.

"…Really." He reached into his pocket for a more protected weapon but paused. The London Eye loomed above him, and he felt the car judder and lurch as it failed to fight the magnetic grip. "Well ****** me. That's annoying."

Despite his driver's best efforts they skidded over and the world spun upside down.

The London Eye careened onward, but its revolutions finally began to slow. Teetering off balance it slipped off the road onto the snowy park land. Its magnetic grip began to waver, and several vehicles were lobbed gently into the night as it spun towards the park's Lake.

The icy surface was no match for the thousand tonnes of steel, and it plunged through instantly, finally slowly its momentum enough to fall sideways, flickering lights dying in the night just a few hundred meters from Buckingham Palace.

!~~~~~~~~!

Confused, dizzy, and feeling very unfortunate, a certain boy kicked free from the wreckage. The door to his shell gave way after the third blow, swinging open lazily as it hung on a broken hinge. Waving through the thin smoke of overloaded electronics, he called out into the night.

"Mi-kh…Ack…" Voice catching in his throat, Touma tried as again. "M-Misaka…?" The answering silence slowly penetrated his stress-addled mind, and he began to fret.

But it was for nothing. He soon found her tangled up in a bush a short distance away. She was perched upside down, a mad smile on her lips.

"Whee hee heeee…! That was… Great!" She threw both arms up into the air, oblivious to the fact that they brushed against the snowy ground instead. "I love Ferris wheels…! Eheehehehe…"

"Did you bump your head or something?" After running a hand carefully through her hair to search for lumps, Touma stared closely at her glazed over eyes and sighed. "I have no idea what to do with you sometimes."

As the girl lay gleefully exhausted, Touma hesitated. There was no immediate threat and no sign of any impending trouble, yet something had to be done. In the end he settled for hoisting the gently giggling girl over his shoulder, and for lack of a better goal trudged towards the Palace itself.

Though he imagined it was always lit up, now it glowed like midday as security forces pulled up to investigate the scene. Some were already taking into custody shivering criminals, emerging from sinking cars to seek the safety of shore. He expected to be intercepted soon, and was already working on his alibi.

"I wonder if the Queen's around. I bet she'd enjoy this." He gave the now silent weight on his shoulder a small shake. "Kinda like someone else. Is every girl crazy, or just the ones I know?"

"Shut up. Idiot." Mikoto's voice regained something of its usual tenor as she began to stir. "And y-you can put me down, I'm fine."

"Not going to destroy anything else? How about we use Big Ben like a javelin and try to score a Bulls-eye on Stonehenge?"

"I said I'm fine, Idiot! And NOW you've got a grasp on English history?"

"Yeah, you're fine." As her struggling increasing he stopped, ceremoniously setting her on her feet. The girl turned immediately, straightening her mask as she did.

"G-good. Thank you. Now, the Shark. Come'on."

"Aah, you know where he is?" Touma watched her stride off towards the lake, but spared a moment to peer in all directions. "I didn't see him there at all, are you sure he was even with them?"

"Nope, but we're still going-"

"Nowhere."

Both froze as a tall man crashed into the ground beside them, kicking up snow in a burst of wind that whipped his short blondish hair into disarray. Still he maintained a sense of decorum and dignity, dressed in a sharp suit and ascot, his piercing blue eyes pinning the teens to the spot.

Mikoto fired up her lightning, but was slow on the mark. Touma had already dashed between them, though the newcomer he recognized had made no other aggressive moves.

"It's okay, Misaka! He's with the Knights of England, I think." He turned towards the man who appraised them both with a chilly stare. "Knight Leader or something; that's you, right?"

"Yes. As I said, you're not going anywhere." He drew a long-sword and levelled it carefully at the pair. "At least not until I've determined out why Academy City just attempted to invade Buckingham Palace."

"What?" Mikoto shouted her disbelief As Touma paled. "No, that's the completely opposite of what happened!"

"From where I stand, that's not what it looks like. Why else would hundreds of petty criminals, loaded with advanced weaponry, be approaching the Palace, and the London Eye slowly sinking in to the lake of St. James Park?" No one looked at the still sizzling ruin, but as if to punctuate his point it abruptly crunched even further under the freezing surface.

"I was just using it to stop them! A bunch of criminals were planning to attack the Palace and do… Something bad?" The esper faltered, and the Knight Leader pounced on her weakness.

"Something? What could they have done? No ordinary group could hope to penetrate the Palace, not under ordinary circumstances. Do you have any conception of how well protected Buckingham palace is?" For once the man broke his stony visage, bewilderment creeping into his expression. "Even with the chaos around London, we retained more than enough Knights to guard the royal family from anything less than a full-scale invasion. Even this catastrophe your have wrought, though I daresay it was not high on our list of expected threats."

"Oh yeah…" Touma pounded one fist into the other open palm. "I should have remembered that. Though there was that whole 'civil war' thing with Curtana and-"

He was cut off twice.

"That's quite enough of…?" The Knight Leader, though momentarily flustered, trailed off in his attempt as Mikoto exploded.

"You let me do all that when they were perfectly safe anyway!?" Though tired, her enraged sparking was hardly weaker than normal. "Why didn't you say something!? I thought that these Knights or whatever were angry at Necessarius, and there was all that political junk about jurisdictions!"

"Angry…?" The man frowned a moment as Touma quailed behind Imagine Breaker. "There has been tension as of late, but not nearly enough that we would risk endangering the Crown. The Royal Family and security of the State always come first."

While Mikoto simmered, Touma turned his head innocently. "Except that one time, right?"

"I said ENOUGH of that!"

"I was TALKING to you, Idiot!"

Though now the boy faced two angry voices, a third forestalled his impending massacre.

"What on Earth is all this racket, now?" All turned as a spry old woman trudged through the ankle deep snow, nightgown hitched up to her hips. "Did I miss the fun already?"

"Your Majesty!? I advised you to stay in your quarters, this is most dangerous!" The Knight Leader's face suddenly mimicked Touma's. Struggling for calm he quickly swept in beside her Majesty, the Queen of England Elizard, as she stomped towards the two teens.

"And I ignored you. This looked more fun." Squinting in the night, she finally neared Touma and Mikoto, a broad smile spreading on her expressive face. "Ah! Kamijou boy! And that girl as well, from Christmas, is that right… How are you two young'uns doing then?"

"…F-fine?" After sharing a glance with Mikoto, that was all Touma could think to say at first. "Oh! And, ah… Sorry?"

"Sorry? What did you do…?" The creaking groan of twisting metal distracted her, and she turned to see one of the few passenger capsules still attached to the London Eye fall into the water with a splash. The entire wheel had bent nearly 90 degrees at its middle, and it rocked gently in the water as it re-balanced. "Oooooh. Oh my."

"Exactly, your Majesty." The Knight Leader took a moment to straighten his cuff as he approached Touma. "I don't know why you thought it wise to destroy a national monument like that, but I will soon."

"You better get away from him." The man paused as Mikoto let her power flow. "A sword won't help you against me, I promise."

"I haven't heard much about you, girl." He eyed her a minute, keeping his expression carefully level. "But no matter the weapon you use, I can easily defeat you." [2]

"We'll see… About that." But Mikoto's ordinary poise faltered in tandem with her strength. Surprised, she let the man approach them, but any conflict was again halted by the Queen.

"Wait, Knight Leader. I want a word first." She busily pushed past them to stride up to Touma. Though he took a step back, her finger still jabbed pointedly into his chest. "You better be sorry, you little punks! I didn't even get to watch!"

"Your Majesty, please leave this… To… Wait, pardon me?"

"I hated that damn eyesore. Especially after we had to auction off the naming rights to that cola brand or whatever. [3] What an over-hyped piece of tourist trash!" She punctuated her point by scooping up a snowball, hurled with surprising force. It splashed against the London Eye, and amazingly it teetered once again. This only somewhat mollified the Queen, and she huffed with frustration. "Damn it. I only hope someone got some good footage."

For a moment the only sound was the abused Ferris wheel's death throes, but soon the Knight Leader cleared his throat.

"Your Majesty, even if these two are guests of the Church, we still must take them in for questioning."

"Hey, wait!" Mikoto reacted faster than Touma, bristling with indignation. "We can't go anywhere with you: there might still be criminals on the loose!"

"That is a problem for the English police force, young girl. You both will come with me."

"Oh yeah? Try and make us." Though she smiled grimly, inside the esper was far from confident. She reached for the core of her power but felt only dregs left to spare. _…Little woozy right now. Lot of work keeping that frail Ferris wheel together so long…_

"Knight Leader…"

The man froze: from the way he shivered, he recognized the Queen's icy tone. But he closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and rallied like a true professional.

"Proper procedure dictates-"

A snowball smashed into his face, and he staggered backwards sputtering.

"Young man!" The Queen readied another projectile, her dark look frightening even Touma and Mikoto. "Unless you want another one you WILL listen to my command!"

"B-but- Agh!?" He tried to wipe the snow from his face, but another attack soon replaced it all.

"Did you forget who this boy is!?"

"N-no your Majesty but-" Another connected, knocking him to his rear.

"You know, the boy who helped save England and the world? Many times? And ONE time in particular?" She stood over her fallen subordinate, a huge armful of snow ready to drop.

But it was unneeded, for by the dismal look on Knight Leader's face he had finally surrendered. "…Y-yes, your Majesty."

"So what do you say to them?"

The shadow of the snow loomed above him, so the Knight Leader forced back a defeated sigh.

"…Because you are recognized allies of the Crown… I will formally drop the investigation."

"AND?"

"…A-and the cost of the repairing the damage."

"Good!" She let the snow fall in a clump onto his lap before striding away. Over her shoulder she called back to Touma and Mikoto, waving hugely. "Don't stay out too late, you two rascals! Or you'll turn out like me! Eheheh… Oh! And if you want to use the facilities for the wedding, just give me a call, okay, dears? I can make arrangements, I know people! Now, tah-tah!"

"A-ah, thank you…?" The two waved goodbye absently as she trudged back to her room, but Touma had a second thought. "Wait, what did she mean by that last bit? Who's getting married?"

"Heck if I know. She sounds a little senile, but I guess she's nice enough." Mikoto kicked the snow from her shoes and stretched her tired limbs. "Come'on. We've still got work to do."

"Please do." The Knight Leader had finished cleaning off his own snowy covering, what little dignity he could muster fading fast. "Just get off the lawn before you somehow burn Buckingham to the ground."

"They'd have to beat me to it! This place could use a reno! In FACT…!"

"Y-your Majesty, you're still here!? And you heard… You can't be serious!? Wait! WAIT…!" The blonde man scurried after her, all trace of decorum vanished. Taking advantage of the opportunity, the two teens made their own escape, leaving the royal grounds and crumpling London Eye behind them.

"You think they can handle this?" Mikoto gestured over her shoulder, and Touma took a second to watch as the last few members of the failed invasion were brought ashore by security forces. It was difficult to tell which group was more confused.

"Yeah, the Knights are way more competent than they look. But you think the Shark or whatever won't be here?"

"Yeah. He wormed away last time, didn't he? And I'm pretty sure I saw him shooting at us from a car; it was way ahead of the others that I ran over, so when I lost steam it might've gotten flung pretty far."

"Hope no one got hurt."

"I-it would have still landed in the park, I'm sure! I made sure of that much at least. Now, hold on…" His eyes followed her curiously as she fumbled at her chest, averting once she noticed his stare. "T-this thing doesn't have pockets, okay!? You know how hard it is to get girl's clothing with pockets!?"

"How could I possibly!? It's not like I buy dresses or anything like that ever!" He covered his face with his hands, stumbling blindly through the snow until he sensed she finished. He peeked through his fingers. "Your phone? Who could you call at this hour?"

"Somewhere it's morning." The phone only had to ring once. "Oh! Are you there, Uiharu-san?"

"Yes! Good morning again, Misaka-san! Do you have more information about that issue in London? I was casually scanning local government communications, and you would not believe-"

"N-Never mind that! It's all fine, everything's fine!" Mikoto blushed as she cut her friend off, aware of Touma's narrowing expression. "I've got a different thing now. I'm trying to figure out where-"

"33 Page Street, Westminister Burrough, West End Ward: you should already be near, just a few kilometres Southeast of the Place grounds. I'll feed the data to your cell."

"W-what?" Mikoto stopped dead as Touma fell face first in an effort to match. "What? How did you… What's even there? I don't even know what I'm looking for yet!"

"It's a tenement building, older style group residence. Sorry, I just assumed you'd want to know where the hostages were."

"Hostages? Did I hear her right?" Though Touma pushed up from the snow to listen closer Mikoto hushed him with her finger. It was needless, as Uiharu went on.

"Let me explain. I knew you'd be going after those criminals you mentioned earlier, so I took the liberty of tracking as many down as I could." Back in Academy City, a girl leaned back in her chair, a full cup of morning tea cooling beside her. "They weren't very secure; they just set up a proxy network, piggy-backing on London's existing physical infrastructure. They ran their networking, they money laundering, their messaging all through that. You probably could have hacked into it with no difficulty if you had know where to look.

"After that, I just listened in and quickly put together a map of their operations. There are many of them around the city tonight, but the only big group aside from what you must have already encountered are clustered at the address I gave you. It's nice they were so organized; they left a lot of notes." Mikoto heard the soft shuffling of paper as her friend organized print outs. "Ah… Aha! They show that that base is to protect a VIP, their financier, but the home being used is rented by a family with no criminal ties that I can find. So I did some more digging, and realized they must be being held against their will. I don't know why this poor family was chosen, but you have to help them!"

"Damn straight. You're amazing!" The esper broke into a sprint as Touma moaned behind her, struggling to keep up. "Anything else?"

"Yes, and I got some good news! The VIP I mentioned, the person behind it all, was paying out in pure digital currency, in exchange rate transfers that match the accounts from the Second Dianoid Incident! It's the same American woman from before, Rosslyn Rossevelt!" Uiharu's voice buzzed happily through the line, though she turned bashful in record time. "I can finally complete my report now; I'll admit it's been bothering me for a while…"

 _Really… Guess I can finally meet and shock the woman behind this all._ "I can't believe it… You're the best! Thanks, Uiharu-san! Got to go!"

Her phone clicked off again just as Mikoto reached the street she had torn apart in her efforts. Emergency sirens began to blare in the distance as she picked her way over the concrete rubble.

"So what's the plan? And are you all right? You look as tired as I feel." Touma finally caught up, eyeing the girl with unmasked concern. She turned away, keeping her eyes carefully forward.

"A-ah, the last of the criminals are holding some hostages. The woman behind this all, too. They're just a few blocks away."

"Oh. Well, let's save them and stop her." The two jogged in silence a moment. "…Should I know who they are?"

Despite feeling drained the girl laughed aloud. "It doesn't matter. All I know is that we have to get there. And do something."

"Right." Without hesitation he nodded, before checking himself. "You think that master criminal guy…?"

Mikoto nodded, panting. "If he's not been arrested already. I bet that's where he's going."

The wispy steam of their breath floated up, mingling together before dissipating as the two ventured once again into the night.

!~~~~~~~~~!

1:48 A.M., December 29th: London, Archbishop's Park

"Stop hanging off me! Since you wanted to come this bad, work for it damn it!"

"But it's late… I'm tried…"

"You're slowing us down, you stupid nun! Get your beauty sleep LATER!"

To punctuate her point, Lessar attempted to punt the nun across the wide field. But Index instead moulded around her limb like some non-newtonian fluid, absorbing the shock and clinging lazily.

Itsuwa watched with a stern expression. "We need to hurry, you two! Kamijou-kun and Misaka-san might need us!" The New Light Magician swung her tail to pry Index off like a recalcitrant leech; Index's mouth clamped sleepily upon it, making it an uneven stalemate.

"I'm trying!"

"Ah'm… Trahing… Too…!"

Ignoring their struggle for the sake of her own serenity, Itsuwa turned back to her work. The people clearing field she had set up had worked to remove the investigating officers; they could return once her own research was done. One last time she examined a patch of disturbed grass. It was like all the others; the once pristine field was a snowy, muddy, churned up mess. A number of boxes and crates from some hurried operation were still strewn about, along with discarded packing and foam. "No… No trace of magic. But I still think she came this way."

"What gave it away, the van on its side with a huge God-damn dent in it?" Lessar wobbled up, unsuccessful in extricating Index.

Itsuwa tutted. "You really ought not take the Lord's name in vain so often." But the other magician just waved her hand dismissively.

"Ah, it's not like the old man upstairs cares. Don't give me that look. What, you really think he's going to come here and-"

Something crashed into the snow next to them.

"J-JESUS H. CHRIST!" She fell over, taking Index with her.

Itsuwa's spear was assembled in a flash, but it was pure instinct; all three girls remained petrified as a deep baritone called out to them from a whirling cloud of smoke.

"There you are."

Lessar was the first to recover her voice.

She crossed herself three times, gulping visibly as the snow melted into the seat of her pants.

"Oh God. Oh God, oh God oh God-"

"Y-y-y-y-you m-might just be making it worse!" Itsuwa stood, but her knees knocked. "S-say a Hail Mary, or something!"

"Who is that?" Index pushed up from the ground where Lessar's fall had thrown her, looking barely alert. "And why does he have djinns following him around? Doesn't he know those are dangerous?"

She pointed at the tall, broad shouldered man striding from the impact of his landing. He strode closer, towering down impassively interest at the three girls before him. At each shoulder hovered two orbs of light; one was pale white opal, next to a glittering green emerald. Opposite were a burning ruby and a shimmering sapphire. Eventually he spoke again, but this time with a trace of thin amusement.

"I know not this 'Christ' you mention, but I am not Yahweh. Of that at least, I can certain."

Lessar plopped back onto the snow, hand clutching her heart.

"Ooooooh thank… Wait." She sat bolt upright. "Then who are you, exactly?"

"You may know me as Solomon."

Itsuwa made to speak, but was cut off by Index.

"As in Solomon the Wise, King of Jerusalem, and famed Jewish Kabalist?"

"Perhaps. Though not wise enough to find you sooner." He looked around the open field. "You are not where I was told you would be."

"Hold up." Lessar finally picked herself up, begrudgingly lending a hand to Index. "Why? Are you, a creepy old man, looking for two pretty young girls and a nun at this hour?"

"…Hey!"

This time, the man did not smile an iota. "Not all of you. Just one. I am sorry."

Lessar looked to Itsuwa.

Itsuwa returned the favour.

Index glanced between both.

They all replied as one.

"…Which?"

"The one named 'Index Librorum Prohibitorum'."

!~~~~~~~~~!

1:51 A.M., December 29th: London, A Dirty Alley

Franklin thought himself a tough guy. After all, he'd been let into his current gang rather quickly; breaking the doorman's arm of their preferred club was apparently something of an initiation. After that, all that was left was to paint his motorcycle with the crew's colours and he was in.

So when the old, lanky man in the fancy coat, dripping wet and shaking, had staggered into Franklin's back alley turf, he and his three mates were ready for some violence.

Or so they had thought.

Now, as Franklin lay broken in a puddle next to his motionless comrades, barely wheezing through shattered ribs, he gazed in horror as the not-so-old man revved up his precious bike.

The motorcycle's engine whined and complained as the Shark muttered incoherently under his breath.

He just about had it going when his phone rung. Bloodshot eyes turned from the ignition to his pocket, and he clumsily grasped about the pockets of his drenched overcoat. Eventually he answered it.

"Ah. Good morning, Sir." The Accountant's reedy voice came in distorted over the line. "I see you survived."

The Shark merely grunted, slowly manhandling the phone under his cheek as he returned to the motorcycle.

"Will you need a pickup? I'm afraid our fleet is-"

"No."

"Oh, good. You will be arriving soon then?"

"Yeah. Soon." Finally the engine kicked into gear, and he kicked up its stand in turn. He spoke calmly, despite revving the engine hard. "Can't waste time."

On the other end the Accountant made a sympathetic noise. "Speed is our ally more than discretion now, I agree. Unfortunately, our stock of weaponry has run completely empty, except for your personal armament. As has our financial reserves."

"Yeah. Ain't surprised."

With a roar and a spattering of muddy snow the Shark blasted out of the alley into the empty streets, powering along the road.

"Nonetheless the equipment you ordered with the last of our funds has been set up. Will you be arriving at the warehouse first, or-"

"Hostages. Not making that mistake again. And I'll be dealing with the American as well."

"As you say."

"Right. I'll just get the goods and get out. Not clean, but we still have leverage for when they arrive."

"Might I ask who you imply?"

"The weirdos. They always do."

"As you say. But might I make a comment?"

The Shark drove on, his silence affirmation.

Eventually the Accountant spoke again.

"…You must be aware that this is the last chance."

"Whatever." Warning ignored, the Shark merely shrugged. "I'm hanging up. Shouldn't drive and talk on the phone."

!~~~~~~~~!

As Franklin lay on the ground, reflecting on his poor choices in life, he realized it was not the pain he felt that frightened him the most. Not the loss of his gang, his bike, or his ability to move. It was not the brutal way his supposed target had dismantled him and his crew in seconds, raining down blows in ways they could hardly understand. It was not even the strange man's attitude that rattled Franklin so.

Instead, it was the man's _lack_ of attitude.

An utterly empty expression with utterly empty eyes. [4]

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] I have been waiting for this scene for SO LONG. You have no idea. As soon as I planned to set this book in London, I knew I had to make it interesting, and I was trying to figure out how to top the Dianoid fall scene. This is my best effort.

[2] Casual reference to this character's Magic. If you don't remember it exactly, don't worry because it's not really relevant, but for the curious he can reduce the power of any one weapon he can recognize to effectively nothing. He's not the most interesting character to me, but even people like him can shine in the right circumstances.

[3] The London Eye is now apparently called the "Coca-Cola London Eye" or something similar. I assume for the reason I stated, but I admit I didn't really check. Either way I'm sure it would bother the Queen as much as it bothers me.

[4] There are a couple of mysteries presented in this chapter, but only the one at the very end has been foreshadowed at all. I am confident no one will guess the true cause because I haven't deemed fit to make it clear, but I think that some have already noticed something peculiar in the Shark's character and story. You don't have to get too worked up over it, but just be aware I plan to at least attempt a justification for everything I write. I don't know if I did quite enough to foreshadow it; I fear I may have been too subtle for my own good. Time will tell.

Eventually.

Until then, until then!


	52. Part 2: Chapter 20

**Welcome to this, the LAST chapter of a Certain Holiday Season Part 2!**

 **Well, almost. There's not much point being coy this time around: I already made clear this was a trilogy. So stick around; an epilogue will follow soon.**

 **And as always, thanks for sticking with me. Though I must give a specific thanks now, lest I forget, to Malandy, whose unsolicited but incalculably valuable volunteer editing work through reviews and PM's has helped put my mind at ease. I mean, most of you will never notice if you read before I get back to the changes he points out, but at least I benefit.**

 **Anyway...**

 **Back to the action.**

 **Chapter 20:**

1:56 A.M. London: 33 Page Street, Westminster Burrough, West End Ward: Outside A Run-Down Tenement Building

The street was quiet again, as it was most nights; those few who had reason to stir often had reason to be very quiet indeed. But tonight, it was silent only in the aftermath of a very brief and one-sided firefight.

It was one-sided in two senses.

One side had all the fire-arms.

The other had all the real fire-power.

"Hey, small fry. Unless you want that to be literal, tell me where your boss is." Mikoto leaned forward, aura of sparks still crackling after her quick victory.

"Inside!" The last conscious criminal quaked in his boots, scrambling on the ground to sit up against a street light as he pointed across the street. "Inside, just don't hurt me!"

"Fine." A thin lance of lightning flickered from Mikoto's fingertips, but it missed the man completely.

By the time he reopened his eyes, he was too slow to escape the grasp of the street light as it magnetically curled around him. Pinned tight, he fought frantically for a moment before fear overtook him, groaning once before passing out.

"Didn't hurt you."

Smugly satisfied the esper turned, casually sweeping aside and dismantling the remaining weaponry scattered around. But something was amiss.

"Eh? Idiot? Where'd you…?" She turned about until she heard a front door being wrenched open, spinning just in time to see the boy race inside. "Ack! Wait for me!"

Touma did not hesitate or slow. For just through the door he found suspiciously ajar he had heard a startled cry.

The simple residence he penetrated was dingy; thin layers of half-cleaned dust reposed on every surface. But he wasted no time as he ran down the short, unwelcoming hall, at whose end he found a tense standoff.

Skidding past an open doorway to his right he saw the raised gun pointed at him just in time. He fell back behind the safety the door frame as two shots pounded into the wood, spraying deadly splinters.

"Ah-ah, hero. Stay. Or I plug the kid."

Touma's blood ran cold, not needing English to sense the threat. He had only had a second to see into the room, but his worst fears were almost confirmed. As one last check he squinted into the blurry reflection provided by a convenient family portrait of five nondescript people, hanging glass-covered on the hallway's wall.

He saw within a mirrored image of a hostage scene. There was a suited woman, sitting in a cheap upholstered chair altogether too casually for the situation at hand. Beside her was most of the family he saw in the photo; a man with two young children, both clinging to his legs.

The third child, the oldest boy, stood white with fear as the warm barrel of a gun pressed tightly to his head, caught in the terrible embrace of the Shark.

"Idiot, was that a-!?"

Stumbling through the door, Mikoto saw Touma's raised hand in time to pause.

"No closer, Missee, or there will be blood. One warning. I don't care if they all live or die, I really don't."  
Mikoto's eyes widened as fast as her magnetic senses: she could just about discern the layout of the room from bits of iron scrap and fixtures, but no gun was visible.

 _Damn it. Another polymer piece of…_ She swallowed her anger, focusing. _If I shock him he'll just pull the trigger by accident. Even from here I could probably still beat him in a race if I used iron sand… But is it worth the risk?_

She faltered. One look down the hall at Touma's pained expression and shaking head made his plea clear.

The Shark waited a long moment, but eventually was satisfied. "Now. Where were we?"

"About to make a deal." The woman who Touma guessed could only be Rosslyn Roosevelt leaned forward in her seat. "I can see that the situation has gotten out of hand. I never intended things to get this far, but that doesn't mean we can't all come to an arrangement." She looked at the Shark over her steepled hands. "Our initial contract, despite running into difficulties, need not end so hastily."

"Really? And what arrangement might we come to?"

"I can get a loan: aid from friends. We can move the hostages before our other associate finds out. She already has everything she needs; you would only be needed for protective services, for this family and myself. A simple task."

"I don't know. I don't like the idea of baby-sitting. Reminds me too much of something that bugs me." Touma imagined he could see the reflection shuffling his shoulders. "You can really get that kind of money?"

"Yes."

"How about instead you finally tell me what this is all about. I want a piece of the pie: that's my price. I want answers."

"…There are many ears."

Touma thought the man shrugged. "They don't matter. Or won't, soon enough."

"…Very well. I don't know what you have already found out. Just don't shoot me straight away, lest you think I am crazy." The woman chuckled, but the teens could hear the tension in her voice.

"I'll shoot you if I like, but not for saying something strange. Just talk."

"Very well." The businesswoman took a deep breath. "…I have embarked on a plan to achieve the ultimate profit. And I am going to break the rules of reality to do it. I plan to use magic."

"Go on."

Surprised at his quick acquiescence, the woman quickly rallied. "…Do you remember the strange events of the last few months? Inexplicable reports, sudden and disastrous wars, the Arctic incident off the coast of Russia? None of that is natural. And it hints at a broader conspiracy."

"And like what's been happening these last few days, and even earlier, yeah, I'm familiar: get on with it."

"W-well… I discovered this sooner than most. And naturally, I sought to see how I might gain." At this point the woman paused. "I did not at the time think it was truly magic; I suspected a different organization. Academy City. So I began to do some digging, and managed to acquire an AIM detector."

"AIM whatsit? Like, with a gun?"

"No. It is what marks the scientific abilities of those from Academy City. I hoped to track down those seen around the events and put them discreetly to the test, to prove a connection for possible blackmail. I had a hired agent from a mercenary organization approach several individuals I suspected were involved in the incidents, from blurry photographs or eye-witness reports.

"None of those I could track down tested positive. Instead, I learned something else, quite by accident.

"Those surveyed kept bandying about strange terms. The agent I sent recorded idle discussions of arcane religious figures, odd conversations of symbolism and authority, and strangest still; serious debate around the proper use of Magic. And then one day, after a panicked message, he vanished. I am grateful I used a third party to arrange him, for that organization too went silent within minutes. Which left me with a mystery." The woman snorted. "Of all things; magic! Looking back, I think I would have rather it been aliens.

"Yet things began to add up. Unsubstantiated sightings I took as complete fabrication became more compelling; groups of girls dressed like nuns, in fierce urban combat? Some group of people or things called 'Saints', and their remarkable recorded abilities? The explosion in the Vatican, the coup in England, the congregation of world powers and the 'Othinus' event? There really was something mysterious afoot. [1]

"So I kept digging. I know an opportunity when I smell one. Though I was afraid of being discovered and summarily dealt with by shadowy types, I made a guess; if religion is what drives this secondary world, then where religion had schismed I might pry safely. Luckily my business was based in the US, a hotbed of Protestantism."

The Shark made a small noise, but Touma couldn't see his face. "So, what; you went around grilling local pastors? Get to the point."

"No, that attempt failed. So did my investigation of latter-day groups and other, more obscure cults. No one knew anything, or was willing to let a hint slip. Finally, I was left with just one last angle: stage magicians." She sighed, nearly laughing. "I decided it was worth a shot. But, amazingly, as I scoured the West Coast, I got an answer. I was nearly ready to give up at that point, but on a whim I met with a young woman.

"I had promised money, gratuitous amounts, for interviews with stage magicians; that was what drew her in the first place. We posed the whole operation as a scientific study, with a variety of questions secretly geared to prompt accidental revelations. They all failed as they had before, but I kept my AIM detector running on a whim during the process, as I had every other time so far.

"And lo, this 'Catherine Baker' set off every alarm it had.

"I knew I was on to something. I let her go that day, asked her to return with the promise of more money. In the meantime, I located her family, contacted you, and set up your surveillance of them. The rest you can probably guess."

"…Yeah. You blackmailed her with her family, and then made her a patsy?" The Shark nodded. "Classic."

"Though you put it coarsely, yes. And even more fortunately, she came to me desperate. She actually needed my help more badly than I hers. I won't bore you with the mumbo-jumbo details, but she claimed that, if she had access to my resources, she could make the Christmas season last forever."

"…You serious? That was your plan?"

"It was actually her idea first; I just forced her to provide something and modify it. But I see you fail to understand the possibilities." The woman's eyes flashed, greed curling up the corners of her lips. "Time normally runs in a straight line; we would make it loop. Only those in on the change would notice: part of the spell. They could manipulate the world however they wanted, without any consequence, before it reverted back to the beginning. Anything done during those days wouldn't matter, not in the long run. Deception, theft, murder, all of it. And then we could do it all again. As many times as needed, we could replay the 12 Days of Christmas, over and over, testing strategies, implementing purchases, buy-outs.

"My business would thrive like never before, the time loop letting me discover the best possible investments to make. When I was satisfied I had amassed sufficient power and influence, I would let the spell revert back to normal. It would be back midnight on Christmas morning; I would never have left my business, never have burnt it all to the ground. It would be as if nothing had ever happened, except I would have the perfect investment plan."

As the Shark mused, so too did Mikoto, just barely able to understand their rapid English. _Is she…_ _That makes no sense! Does she not know the prophecy is something permanent? Why didn't Miss Baker tell her…?_

"So you can get more funding." The shark's curt question scattered her thoughts.

"Not I. But I have colleagues, who I am certain could be convinced to join my cause; I have all the evidence I need to prove my case. I didn't want to use them, but if needs must I will, I just need to make a few calls. And now that you know, I will cut you in on the deal. I admit, there would have been no need for your skills in any time loop past this one, but since you now know everything your experience could make you a valuable ally."

There was a drawn out silence.

"Nah."

In one liquid smooth motion the gun aimed forward.

After firing it just as quickly slid back.

Rosslyn slumped in true surprise, hand groping for the sudden upwell of blood from her stomach.

And the Shark kicked through a door to an adjoining room, swiftly carrying the boy with him as he made his escape.

"W-wait!" Touma was far too late to react, slowed by his lack of understanding and fear for the boy's life. So the Shark made his getaway as Mikoto sprang through the door past the teen.

"Where'd he…!?" Upon seeing the scene the esper was torn. _One enemy shot, the other running: what-_

She jumped as Touma brushed past her in kind, kneeling by the shaking businesswoman. He reached out with both hands to staunch the wound as she flinched weakly, and turned back to Mikoto.

"We can't just leave her. Enemy or not-"

"I do not understand you, but go." Touma turned again, this time to an unfamiliar voice coming from an unfamiliar face. The father of the family quickly pushed the boy aside, taking his place. "I will take care of her."

"W-who're-!?"

"Excuse me, but you are just an uninvited guest. I live here. Alina, get some towels. Hurry, the bathroom, go!"

The older of the two frightened young girl, barely old enough herself for school, stumbled from the room.

"Y-you…? Of all…Kch…" Roosevelt coughed heavily, a thin trickle of blood running down her grim smile. "Ought to want… Me dead…!"

"I for one am no monster, even if I know them well." The man took the bundle of cloth from his trembling daughter. "Good work, Alina, you are very brave. Stay with me, now, help me unfold them…"

The homeowner worked diligently, and Touma stood, his limited knowledge of first aid already outclassed. Mikoto approached carefully, as if treading on eggshells as she switched to English. "A-ah, are you-"

"Yes. I am sure." His eyes were calm and collected as he cut her off, but his expression seemed haunted. "This woman has unearthed the demons of our past, manipulated my daughter, and held my family at gunpoint, but I will not let her die. Now, you two, you must be true magicians, from Necessarius: stop that man! Save my son! Go, go already!" [2]

"M-magi-!?" Mikoto's question was cut short as Touma yanked on her sleeve, dragging him through the door after their quarry.

"Let's go." He shot a glance over his shoulder as they ran through the house. "No time!"

Though filled with questions, Mikoto had no choice but to follow as they burst through a broken back door into a dim alley. There was no trace of the Shark, but the youth's cries echoed down a distant side lane.

Sprinting to catch up, they soon came to a shuttered warehouse. Without a second thought the esper slammed the doors open.

Inside was darkness. And soon the sound of faint snivelling.

"Good." The Shark's calm voice, in flawless Japanese, echoed in the cavernous space. "And here I was worried you wouldn't find me."

"Wrong thing to worry about." Though briefly surprised at his fluency, Mikoto's sparks flared, almost enough to illuminate the chamber. But as she stretched out of hand to do just that, the lights switched on of their own accord.

It was unclear how long the warehouse had been unoccupied, but it had been so long enough for a complex construction project to be completed within. On top of a large concrete slab was a huge metal construction, a grid of reinforced bars surrounding the Shark. Its single huge entry hatch was shut, locking inside both the criminal and his hostage.

Mikoto's arm remained steady, but just when Touma expected an attack she let it drop.

"What? Misaka, is something-"

"Can't. Not right now." She grimaced. "He's got himself-"

"An ultra-reinforced Faraday Cage. Too bad they educated you pretty well, wherever you're from. Was looking forward to surprising you." If The Shark was truly disappointed he did not show it, instead just blankly tapping the steel construction. "It's grounded and built to withstand lightning strikes and hurricanes, bought from an extreme weather monitoring company. I don't know how much power you've got after that show with the Eye, but I still doubt you can get me fast enough." [3]

 _Damn it. If wasn't tired this would be child's play. I hate to make him do this, but…_ Voice low, she whispered to Touma as their enemy watched. "…I'm a little beat. Can you-"

"Don't worry. I've got it." Without another word he strode ahead, surprising the girl. But before she could clarify they both stopped.

A single gunshot from the Shark's handgun drilled a hole into the ground; his hostage cried weakly, but was held too tightly to fall limp.

"Nope. No closer. Not yet. We're doing this my way."

"You don't need to hurt him." Touma made no move forward, but stretched out his hand. "That kid's done nothing to you."

"And I plan to do nothing to him. Just do as I say." Touma slowly nodded. "Good. Step closer. There, atta boy." He gestured with his gun, and the would-be hostage negotiator came close. Soon he was within reach of the Faraday Cage, carefully watching the criminal while smiling to reassure the frightened boy.

"It's going to be fine." When he realized the child didn't know Japanese, he smiled again, but had a sudden thought. "S-say, since when did you-"

"Shut up. Don't want to think about it. Before we start, I want to know what your Magic is about."

The teen opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it again. He repeated this a few times.

"E-eh?"

"Your Magic power or whatever. I know hers. What exactly is yours? "

"Y-you see-"

"He doesn't have a power." He looked back, surprised that Mikoto answered for him. She shook her head with a huff. "Not one that you'd care about, anyway."

"Bull****, Missee. I saw him flying around, punching that helicopter. Is it just super strength and flight, or something else?" When she shook her head, the Shark calmly continued. "No no no. There's all sorts of Magic stuff, I know. You've got your electricity, I know there's memory stuff too, all of it. What does he got?" Though his words were cool, Touma could see there was tension behind the man's expression. Not exactly emotion, but something very much like it.

It was more than a little worrying. _I've to got to take it easy, measured steps, here…_ The teen took a deep breath. "W-"

"He's _got_ nothing!"

Though Touma winced at Mikoto's frustrated outburst, he was surprised when the Shark's face instantly mellowed. "…You're telling me my plans got ruined by two teens, one of whom is just an ordinary bloke? Is that it?"

"Trust me, I understand from experience how infuriating that is." But even as Mikoto bought time with her quip, she noticed how peculiarly well the Shark was taking this all. His face seemed too reserved; from what she had seen before, he was a bombastic character, animated and cavorting. _Now he seems almost… Slack. Has he snapped?_

"No. No, I don't buy it." The Shark shook his head slowly, his gun suddenly sweeping towards them. "He's taken blows that would kill a man. I watched a tank fall on him. He's invulnerable or something."

Though Touma recoiled in panic from the weapon's aim, Mikoto's injection distracted them both again. "That was me! I held it from him! Seriously, he's just an everyday, ordinary guy! And before you ask, I don't know why he's mixed up in this, I really don't! It, it just doesn't make sense, I admit!"

Touma stiffened.

"He's got this strange ability to cancel other supernatural stuff, but that's it! No magic, no Esper Ability, no Gemstone, no extraordinary strength or skill or smarts or brawn and certainly no real luck! He's just a guy and I just don't know what's so special about him!"

Touma swallowed.

"I could see it being me, having to deal with all this; I'm the third ranked Level 5 of Academy City! Our City is a place where power is everything, and nothing is as it seems where the system is out to get you and life is cheap! I'm used to the dark side of things, it's everywhere! Horrible experiments, twisted plots… It's tried to destroy my life and those around me countless times! But it's him, always him!"

Touma's gaze unfocused.

"He's always in the worst of it, dealing with far worse thing s than me! And he's just… J-just Kamijou Touma! He's brave and stupid and thoughtful and stupid and resourceful and he's put up against these impossible problems and somehow makes it through, is still always there for me! He gets hurt more than anyone, fights more than anyone, and is thrown back for more than anyone! I don't get it, I don't, I hate it!"

Touma's fist clenched.

"I want to be there with him, but he's always been so far away! But now, _this_ is the first real chance I've had to fight with him, to keep up with him! I don't understand what we've been doing half the time, but I don't care! We're doing things, and we're doing it together! I don't care what power he has or hasn't got anymore, we're just together!

Touma's heart skipped a beat.

"And we're going to beat you. You and your cage, and all your criminals, and then we'll mop up Baker and her summons too! Without any powers, he'll do it, I know! He's beaten Accelerator and wizards and mad scientists and Magic Gods and even me! So don't go belittling him; he doesn't need a special power to kick your ass, you sadistic criminal *******!"

Mikoto bent over, a sudden pain in her chest.

She noted from her close up view that the floor was oddly clean.

 _Where… Did all that come from?_

In wonder at her own words, she slowly looked up to meet Touma's gaze.

He had already turned, his back to all the world, staring at her in total awe.

Until the gunshot rang out.

His eyes widened.

For a long second he just stood there with surprise on his face.

And then he slumped forward to his knees, crumpling with pain.

"Huh. You were right." The Shark peered with the mildest of interest through the cage's bars. "He is just an ordinary guy."

Touma moaned.

Mikoto gave a strangled cry.

"Relax. Just shot his hand. He might even be a lefty." The Shark idly examined Touma's gasping back before shrugging. "Well, I suppose now we can bargain. I've heard tell that the Baker woman wants this guy nearly as much as her family; I might be willing to swap hostages. If you back off now and don't try follow me, he'll live at least as long as it takes to…?"

His detached sense calm finally betrayed the Shark, for when he realized the danger he was in it was already too late.

The girl was nearly glowing with power. He eyes flashed, twinkling brightly as incandescent lighting blasted tears out of existence. The air itself was charged with potential, the building creaking under incredible stress.

But still The Shark was fast.

His gun whipped back towards his screaming hostage, ready to make good on his threat. There was no hesitation as his finger clenched.

Until Touma spun on the ground, grimacing, reaching for the firearm.

The Shark reacted, bringing the butt of the gun back down to smash the boy's arm aside.

It connected, but did no good:

Touma's bloody hand had latched onto the child instead. Imagine Breaker was in position.

Though the Shark's attack slammed into his forearm with brutal force, it wasn't enough to dislodge Touma's grip from the boy.

And then everything was light.

!~~~~~~~~!

There was a distant sound of car alarms.

They were the first thing Mikoto recognized upon regaining her senses. Among the honking and blaring and whistling of alarms there were distant, scattered cries of confusion and anger, electrical power slowly returning to this and several adjacent city blocks.

Much was confusing. She was fairly certain she been in a building. But like in a certain memory, lazily drifting through her mind like the clouds of disturbed snow billowing around her, she was now laying on her back looking up at an overcast sky. Where there had once been a ceiling was now only a wide, jagged hole, letting in the cool London wind.

Abruptly she sat upright, eyes wide with fright.

She scrambled to her hands and knees, crawling through the shroud of dust and snow, crawling forward until she made it to a certain boy's side.

There she crouched wordlessly, hands hovering over him.

But she saw him cough once, and open his eyes to look at her.

They stared in silence.

"…Hey."

"Hey… D-did I shock you…? At all…?"

"Nah… Missed me. You… All right?"

"Me? Really…? …Idiot."

 _He looks pale. Cold. I should get him… Wait, what did I even… Just do?_

More of the smoke had cleared as Mikoto tore her gaze from his.

The Faraday cage was a crumpled wreck. Whatever magnetic fields it had been designed to resist, it was clearly not rated for Level 5 espers. It was compressed down to a stumpy block of misshapen metal, cast like a crude mould around the still standing figure of the Shark. The man was motionless in his unexpected prison, though the thin whistling of his breath through one of the few gaps left proved he lived.

Only one section of the cage remained intact, bubbling outwards obscenely; the small part holding the equally small boy, though he was now lay unconscious. It could only have been from fright, as Imagine Breaker's hand still held him firmly, shielding both him and that portion of cage from the tremendous forces at work.

That bleeding hand sluggishly pulled back, heavily bruised further up along his forearm. Mikoto gasped at the sight.

"You've… Your arm…"

"S'fine. Grows back." He shuffled on the ground, wincing weakly. "S-sometimes."

The both of them stupidly stared at it.

"Ah, you're bleeding! Stupid stupid stupid Mikoto… This is my fault, I should have focused, I-"

"N-no… Not you…" Touma tried to shake his head, hardly managing a single twist. "E-exactly… What I worr…" He wavered a moment on the edge of lucidity.

"Quiet, you rest, now h-hold on, let me-!"

Her efforts to find a bandage were quickly rewarded. Mikoto found a long length of beige fabric, trailing the ground. A weak burst of iron sand sliced through it in an instant, ripping off a sizable length.

As she delicately looped it around the boy's hand, she heard a surprised sigh.

"…I suppose I deserved that."

The voice was instantly recognizable, and Mikoto spun back in surprise. "A-archbishop!? The Hell!?" _When!? How much did she see?_

"That too." After looking down at her now torn robe, the beautiful blonde-haired woman leaned over the esper to examine Touma, now gently sleeping. "…He's hurt more than I expected, but will recover soon enough, I should think."

"What? Expected? I…" Mikoto paused.

And thought.

And saw Touma's agitation on the Ferris wheel in a new light. "…Did you set all this up? What, this whole time-?"

"Well, not entirely. I of course _encouraged_ him to go alone, to Miss Baker's London hideout, where he would find nothing but a portal to her true lair. That magical pocket dimension of hers where I knew the Dianoid would be. It's a good thing he expected that wardrobe to behave much like the The Craftsman's District; if he hadn't've guessed he could pass through it so long as he was careful of Imagine Breaker, he might just have stopped there. It's quite fun, planning so far in advance.

"And after all, if he didn't go first, how else could I have guaranteed all my prey would be gathered together to defeat their 'greatest obstacle', and thus be unprepared for my true attack? My method worked well for the most part, but sadly Baker appears more crafty than I expected, having already prepared an outrageous counter-play. She is quite the adversary, it's a shame her fate is already sealed..."

"You... Are you enjoying this?" Mikoto could only gape in shock and confusion. Her expression seemed to please the Archbishop more.

"I sense you don't approve. But I merely used the cards in my hands to play for the best possible result. What's the harm in having fun in the process?" The Archbishop's bright smile went unanswered, so she merely shrugged airily. "Like my methods or not, I stand by my own, private reasons. Now, I will deal with the remaining few issues here. You ought to take _him_ to proper help." The woman turned her back after gesturing at the mess around them.

So she was surprised when Mikoto spoke up again.

"I want more than just answers. I won't let you use him like a pawn. Not after…" She looked down at the boy before her knees.

He was sleeping now, with a peaceful expression.

"…This. I won't let you."

"Why are you so mad at me, I wonder?" The Archbishop's smile now carried a bemused twist. "You must know that whatever I did, I did not intend for him to be shot. After all, he wasn't alone...?"

What should have been a biting barb completely missed it's mark.

"I know. It's my fault. And yet..."

The Archbishop waited, taking careful stock of the younger girl searching for the words, kneeling below her like a repentant knight.

"I… I don't know, really. But…" Mikoto looked up, a flash of light crackling on her brow. "Right now, looking at your face… I don't think I like you."

But the beautiful woman only smiled broader.

"How cruel. But I assure you, your anger is not a wise priority."

The point well-made did little to ease the girl's swelling anger. But she swallowed it down as the boy groaned lightly beside her.

"Take him back the Cathedral. We can't very well send him to an Academy City hospital right now, but we have reasonable facilities prepared for him at St. George's in the mean time. You might as well go. Glaring at me won't-"

"Fine. But stay away from him. Or I'm coming for you."

The steel wrapped around the Shark didn't even budge as Mikoto pushed off it, launching up into the night.

Laura Stuart watched with interest as they shrunk to a speck in the night sky above, before suddenly zipping East. When they were gone, she nodded to herself, satisfied.

"Perfect."

"…"

"...Oh?"

"...Mmm..."

A weak murmur reached her ears, and when she found its source she for once looked truly surprised.

"My goodness! And after all that commotion? What a tough fellow you must be…"

She leaned in close to the mangled Faraday cage, just close enough to hear a muttering voice.  
"…Jewels… Take… Crown..."

"Hmmm. Sounds like a broken record." She tapped on the exterior, and the voice inside grew more stable.

"…Enough. Enough of this Magic. Crown Jewels. Ruined my life. Crown Jewels, protecting… A-agh, get out, get out, my head, GET OUT, GE-"

A thin light pulsed into the prison and the struggling man fell limp.

"Goodness. What prompted that particular bit of madness, hmmm?" The Archbishop looked mildly into a crack in the metal, searching for his face. Eventually she gave up and sighed. "…I suppose I'll have to get my hands dirty. Ho hum."

From an unseen pocket within the folds of her robe she pulled a simple magnifying glass. It was unadorned, saved for a number of complex runes carved into its side.

"This ought to work. Been a long time since I had to bother with the inside of someone's head myself." She angled it gently "And while I'm here, I can get all memory this magic business out of your mind, just like you want, hmm?"

Humming cheerfully her fingers danced on the surface of the glass, pinging it in precise patterns.

Eventually she nodded, satisfied.

"There we are. Your memories are…"

She paused.

"A-a mess! And I thought I was complicated! What on Earth…"

She peered closer, lips pursed.

"No. This isn't natural at all. You've been tampered with. But by whom? How have I not…"

This time, her pause was more profound.

"This type of mental distortion. It's been years. When did I last… That was several years ago, and he's been quite dealt with. But still, there's only one spiritual item I can think of that-"

Abruptly it clicked, and she reared back her head, blinking in shock.

"…Really! Really!? You ARE from back then!?"

And burst into laughter.

Eventually she wiped the moisture from her eyes and shook her head ruefully.

"My… Well! And how'd you slip by the cracks that day? At least I can correct this little blunder now. Better late than never!"

She raised the magnifying glass again, but this time her fingers did not merely dance on its surface. They plunged inside, through the glass like it was a still pool of crystal clear water. She began to hum again as she worked, plucking at strands of damaged memory, sifting through his mind.

It was the work of several minutes, and she enjoyed it immensely.

"…There! All fixed, and that's one less mystery in the world." She finished, winking at the unconscious man coyly. "This all worked out swimmingly in the end, don't you think?"

!~~~~~~~~!

2:21 A.M., December 29th: London, Archbishop's Park

Mikoto wanted nothing to distract her. So she kept her eyes on home as she darted through London's skyline, forced low by a lack of Academy City's tall buildings. This park she passed over was particularly devoid of useful steel, so she had to drag even lower than she wanted. Still, it was on the way, and she knew a convenient hunk of metal would still likely be in place for her to use.

But instead of launching off it magnetically like a spring board, she slowed, landing lightly atop it. From what she had seen barrelling above, the state of the grounds had demanded an investigation. Up close, it was even worse.

 _Why does…This place look so messed up!? What the Hell happened!?_

The field she had left was full of cars and trucks and boxes and crates; now there was only scattered debris. It looked like a wild but unnatural storm had shredded everything that had remained behind, even the earth itself; there were singed patches, deep murky puddles, long furrows carved in the ground, and boulders strewn everywhere.

Curiosity warred with worry. But Touma took that decision away from her as he stirred on her back.

"W-whoa… This… Looks bad…" Having awoken on their landing he lazily flopped his head to look around. "D-did… This my fault? S-such mis…"

"Great, now you're delirious. I'm getting you back, screw-"

A horrible moan stopped her dead in her tracks.

Both teens slowly panned back to the field, where they at last noticed a twitching foot, peeking out from behind an obscuring boulder.

As she leaped from the downed van and over, Mikoto reflected how familiar a shoe it looked. So she was only slightly surprised to see it was attached to none other than Lessar, lying in the snowy mud.

But the esper's eyes widened and she staggered away, grip on Touma nearly abandoned when she saw the rest of the magician she knew.

Mikoto was voiceless, lost in horror. She was no stranger to terrible sights, but none had been so sudden and unexpected as this.

Though bleary eyed, Touma recognized her shock, and struggled weakly to get a look.

His regret was immediate.

"AAAGAGAGH!?" His sudden lurch completed the job Mikoto had started and he fell to the ground. Though pain shot through his arm, he tried to push away with all his strength from the appalling display. "T-that's-!"

Lessar lay on the ground in two neat halves. Bifurcated down the middle like perfectly split chopsticks.

But strangely, when anyone living should have been not, she still moved. Her eyes flickered, and another horrible moan forced it way from two sets of half-lips.

It was joined by another,from a second body just further behind. Itsuwa had fared no better, but remarkably there was no blood, no gore of spilt entrails.

Instead, where each of their body was split, there was only a strange, purplish-glow.

Mikoto nearly fell to her knees before she recovered, running to Lessar's sides. [4] But she was completely lost for a reasonable response.

 _F-f-first aid doesn't cover this! What the Hell what the Hell what the HELL do I do!?_

"Mi…Misaka…!"

Hearing Touma's voice brought her back to reality. She didn't even need to look at him to understand his intent.

After debating which of the two would be worse to move, she finally settled on hoisting Touma over. Gingerly, she flopped his right hand onto the girl's left stomach, and prayed for a miracle.

The two halves snapped together like they were magnetically linked. With a dark flash of purple, Lessar was whole once again.

"Oh… Oooh gosh that felt…B-Blrgh!" After rolling over to her knees, the New Light magician hurled magnificently, turning her head to spew in privacy. "G-gh… Gosh gosh gosh gosh that sucked… Ooooh..."

Itsuwa's recovery was only marginally more composed. Her face was even paler than normal, but the girl held in her gut with terrific effort as she gasped, crouched on hands and knees in the snow.

"What the Hell is going on!? Who did this-Did the summons come here too? I figured they were all dealt with, but this!?" Mikoto cast her hand around the insane wreckage of the battlefield; the sheer variety of carnage was novel enough. _This actually reminds me of that training gym in Academy City, after I duelled a bunch of level 4 espers at once… Pretty strong espers, too. Which summon could have even done this?_

She had time to dwell, because she received no answer.

"O-oh, sorry, take your time! B-but, ah, I need to get you all back the Cathedral, you look…"

She paused, noticing something peculiar.

Lessar and Itsuwa were no longer gasping, but they still didn't look her or Touma's way.

"G-guys… What's wrong?"

"I… I'm sorry, Kamijou-kun…" Itsuwa had recovered enough to sit back on her feet, arms wrapped around her bosom as she looked down at her knees. "We… We all came… Couldn't stop him. I'm sorry."

Mikoto realized first, her surprise clear. But despite his addled state even Touma eventually understood.

"A… All? Where… Index!?"

He struggled, managing to sit up despite his weakness. Eyes that had before been drained were fearfully animated as he fought Mikoto's restraining grasp.

His sudden exertion overpowered her, dragging both to Itsuwa's side. Where he heard her anguished admission.

"Index has been kidnapped."

What colour remained drained from his face.

For one long second he knelt motionless.

Then with one titanic effort he rose.

Bloody drips fell from his loosened bandage.

He turned with an iron look in his eyes. One that ignored all exhaustion and pain.

Until he saw Mikoto.

Standing behind him, tears in hers.

He faltered.

Fell slack.

And crumpled to the ground.

His eyes struggled to open as the girls hovered over him, individual troubles forgotten in their worry. But he only looked at one, lips fighting for her name.

"Mi…?"

She listened, not noting his good hand sliding to her arm.

"D… Go after… D-dex... W…"

Silence fell upon the Archbishop's park, as true sleep finally fell upon him. [5]

!~~~~~~~~!

2:30 A.M., December 29th: The Dianoid, Central Ampitheatre

"For this, I sullied my hands?"

The big hand of a large grandfather clocked ticked over. A bell chimed once for the half hour. Neither person still awake took notice.

Index lay unconscious at Miss Baker feet, and the former assistant nodded at her last remaining ally.

"Yes. I was unaware of her before, but from Joan's soldiers I learned many secret things. This girl has more magical knowledge than you or I could ever dream of. Knowledge that I need now to suceed."

"Perhaps. But even if that is true, gaze around you." Solomon waved his arms in a sweeping gesture, across the ruin of the stage.

The pieces of the defeated summons lain strewn about, as did Joan's silent body. Intermingled were the still smoking wrecks of decorations and once-empowered toys. There was little left standing, aside from the patiently ticking grandfather clock, hauled out from another room as if to survey the destruction. It kept time in solemn austerity, accurate to even the days of the week. It was clean, immaculately so, as if it was something carefully cherished.

"Your army has failed. As have you. This has all been for nought."

"I think not." The woman ignored the King's imperious gaze to kneel by Index. She ran a hand gently through the girl's long hair, studying the troubled face as if it reminded her of someone dear. But her eyes only hardened the more. "In her mind, I will find an answer. To this, and all our problems. The mistakes."

"Is that so." He stood above her, waiting for an explanation. When none came, he sighed painfully. "Woman, I should tell you again; I have experienced the consequences of transgressing on Yahweh's domain. Your plan is nearly as arrogant as mine was, so many eons ago."

"But you are mistaken. This is not my plan. Not truly."

Finally the woman raised her eyes.

"I think I have found our answer."

"Oh? And how have you seen into her mind?"

"My unique… Curse. Sometimes he has his uses." She stood, straightening as the King took a respectful step back.

"If what you have said is true, should you be relying on the First's power?"

"No. But I must. I can see no other chance. Now, stand clear. And be ready to slay me should this go awry."

"I suspect I would fail in the effort. But I will try. I have no other purpose, for now." Bending low the man scooped up the nun, cradling her under his arm. "Do we still need her?"

"…Yes."

He nodded, slowly.

Soon Index was resting in a distant seat, sole audience to a developing Magic.

Only it was not quite Magic.

The clock ticked on, pendulum swinging in perfect time. It seemed heedless of the glowing black aura enveloping Miss Baker, standing watch over an eccentric collection of historic objects.

There were arrayed around it in a rough semi-circle: five in total, all dissimilar in nature.

A horse's bridle, worn and weathered and nicked by blades.

A necklace of shell and bone, drilled and strung in haphazard fashion.

A simple rope of prayer, trailing an eastern crucifix.

A model of an Asian ocean vessel, enclosed in a dusty bottle.

A simple bronze spearhead, flawless and pristine.

Before them all the woman struggled, an invisible weight on her shoulder growing heavier by the second. Though her knees were shaking, she did not slow her efforts.

Her mana flowed, but it did not flow alone. Something strange and dark and oppressive coiled around it, gave it visible form, no magic circle, no artefact needed. Together they carved into air itself a perversion of a Magic circle, its very runes an affront to the proper order of things, as if spitting in God's eye.

The flow of power was enough to wake Index, if just for a second. Her eyes flickered open.

"W…Wrong…"

Solomon glanced down at her briefly, but she was already gone. Yet he sighed and answered all the same.

"Indeed, girl. This is wrong. But yet it seems it must be so."

He stood watch as the circle pulsed in some impossible dimension, angle and perspective fooling the eye.

From somewhere, there was soundless, depthless, timeless howl.

And the clock ticked on.

And on.

And…

Stopped.

Before restarting.

Faster.

Faster.

Faster it spun, hands whirling now, eating up the hours in ravenous hunger, as if the devil himself chased time's tail like a swiftly stalking hunter.

The hands did not slow as they approached the needed hour.

Soon the moment came.

!~~~~~~~~!

12:00 A.M., Midnight: December 29th: The Dianoid, Central Ampitheatre

"Cœperunt autem sextus Nativitatis Domini, et dilectus meus sescenti equites vadens ad pugnam!"

At her words the bridle jumped, leapt into the air.

The dark light flowed forth to embrace the offering.

It soon hung limply from the hands of small, wiry Chinese man, his long black hair was tied back in a prideful bun.

Still, the hands did not slow.

Soon the moment came.

!~~~~~~~~!

12:00 A.M., Midnight: December 30th: The Dianoid, Central Ampitheatre

"Cœperunt autem sepitmus Nativitatis Domini, et dilectus meus septem regionibus flagrans igne!"

At her words the necklace jumped, leapt into the air.

The dark light flowed forth to embrace the offering.

It soon settled around the neck of a Polynesian youth, a young man covered by equal parts patchwork tattoos and burns.

And yet, the hands did not slow.

Soon the moment came.

!~~~~~~~~!

12:00 A.M., Midnight: December 31st: The Dianoid, Central Ampitheatre

"Cœperunt autem octavus Nativitatis Domini, et dilectus meus nobis proditionem domini et octo!"

At her words the prayer rope jumped, leapt into the air.

The dark light flowed forth to embrace the offering.

It soon draped heavily on the breast of a tall Russian man, lying over the dark beard that trailed stiffly down his chest.

Despite everything, the hands did not slow.

Soon the moment came.

!~~~~~~~~!

12:00 A.M., Midnight: January 1st: The Dianoid, Central Ampitheatre

"Cœperunt autem nonus Nativitatis Domini, et dilectus meus novem terrore erit percutiens!"

At her words the ship model jumped, leapt into the air.

The dark light flowed forth to embrace the offering.

It landed with a clatter at the feet of an elderly Japanese woman, skin roughened by life and back bent by hardship.

But still, the hands did not slow.

Soon the moment came.

!~~~~~~~~!

12:00 A.M., Midnight: January 2nd: The Dianoid, Central Ampitheatre

"Cœperunt autem decimus Nativitatis Domini, et dilectus meus decem regna esse prosterno!"

At her words the spear head jumped, leapt into the air.

The dark light flowed forth to embrace the offering.

It stuck to the end of a wooden haft borne by a Macodnian, of lordly bearing despite his simple raiment.

Once again, the hands did not slow.

Soon the moment came.

!~~~~~~~~!

12:00 A.M., Midnight: January 3rd: The Dianoid, Central Ampitheatre

"Cœperunt autem undecimus Nativitatis Domini, et dilectus meus undecim caeli decidentes!"

This time, there was nothing left.

But something deep and dark welled up within the former assistant.

Though it remained lodged within her its presence grew, expanding unseen to consume all things.

The dark light flowed forth to embrace the world itself.

And upon the remains of defeated summons, it bestowed a terrible power.

The pieces began to glow. And spin. And rise.

And reform.

Ten figures now stood on the stage, bathed in a Hellish darkness. But all save one had succumbed, eyes transformed into dark mockeries of self.

Standing within the ring they formed the woman held on, power threatening to overwhelm her.

As if sensing the end, the hands did finally slow.

But soon the moment came.

!~~~~~~~~!

11:59 P.M., January 4th: The Dianoid, Central Ampitheatre

"Et Cœperunt… Autem sepitmus N-Nativitatis Domini, fortitudo mea, et…! F-fortitu…!"

The hands slowed further.

The hands stopped. Dead, just seconds from Midnight, they wobbled in indecision.

The Darkness fought. Strained, pushed, spinning the clock further, forward, onward, seeking desperately the appointed time for freedom.

But the woman fought back.

"F….Nooooo! NOOOO!"

She threw the power down.

And then time came crashing back.

!~~~~~~~~!

9:21 A.M., December 31st: The Dianoid, Central Amphitheatre

When all was said and done, such was the time the Grandfather clock read. But it would read time no more, now a smoking, charred mess.

"Is it done? Have you succeeded?"

The woman stirred, head pounding.

She looked up, to the rows of seats. In the back stood Solomon, taking careful steps towards the met his eye, and shook her head.

"N-no… No, no further. Not now. He will take over. I… Must have more control, more power… Not here. This will… Not work. Not yet."

"That was… A dangerous thing." He finally joined her on stage, standing alongside his fallen counterparts. At the spell's end they had crumpled, strings cut by an invisible hand. But even now he watched them stir. "I only hope this is truly for the best."

"…Best?" The first to stand was the small Chinese man. He blinked, perplexed, before turning to the others. "This is not what I expected, but a man must make do. Will there be battles, in this new existence? A chance for glory?"

"Yes. There will be battle."

"Then I am satisfied." He sat back down, legs crossed. And watched the youth next to him stand.

"…W-water… Wat…?" Burnt hands flew to his throat, and the Polynesian teen cried aloud. "I am not thirsty any more! So I have… Died? Where am I now? What is this place?"

"Calm yourself. I will explain when the other's awaken."

"Explain." The bearded Russian man stepped forward, his imposing height towering over all but Solomon. "I did not take the Devil's bargain for anything less than total satisfaction." And yet he slowed, eyeing the former assistant. "But you, my beautiful lady, may give me reason to pause."

"Patience."

"Wise council, young one." The Japanese woman, next in line, remained seated, joints stiffened by long use. Her raspy voice seemed equally strained, and she fought to keep a level tone. "I do not know what deal I have agreed to with you, but I will make my peace with this or will find a way to overcome it.

"I am not the one who made the bargain, but I will explain everything soon."

"Hmmm, MMMM!" The final man, the newest Greek, stretched lazily before laying back upon the floor. "Ah, what a party! What women! And my Gods, what a hangover! I should hope to enjoy the like a thousand times more! Bring on the conquest, whatever else may come! Ahaha!"

"There will be time for tha-"

"Oh! Yeah, that is what I noticed!" He bounded to his feet with impetuous energy, disturbing the others around him as he pressed within inches of Miss Baker's impassive face. "That's what I felt! That was some serious folly I felt! Even I, Basileus, would not mess with time so wantonly! That was you, wasn't it, pretty lady?"

"No, it was-"

He somehow got closer as he cut her off. "Oi, oi! That's a little dangerous, moving time all about around like that. My teachers taught me all the horrible consequences. Like if you love the wrong woman, you end up loving your own grandmother!"

Somehow she smelt alcohol on his breath. She fought the urge to lean away. "I did not 'move it about. I have merely stretched things."

He suddenly swung away, past the recovering summons. He leered at Joan and Agnes in turn, before spinning back lightly on his toes. "I don't know, lady. I can feel it. Time didn't just get mussed up in here in this room, with whatever sorcery you were up to. This would span my whole empire… Zeus, further even that that! I'm actually a little impressed right now. And aroused."

"W-what does this weird man speak of? A-and why am I not worthy of a leer!?"

"Quiet, Songbird. I will explain. Once everyone is ready to listen."

Finally the rambunctious man felt still, but he could not help his foot tapping with nervous energy as he waited. The others drew close as Miss Baker spoke.

"I will explain to our newest members what I have explained to the First five." The newcomers shared a look that the woman ignored. "All of us were contacted by the voice of the First. The one we could not escape." There was a moment's pause as the shuffling stopped. "...I see you understand. This is the work of his power. But I have knowledge that shows we were deceived. The promises made, however sweet, will never be met. Unless we take control of his power."

She rested one hand on her body, just below her breast. "As the Last, I have some of the First's power. That was how he arranged things. But I also have control. I will assure that our desires are met, how each of us will be satisfied. How, I will explain in good time. For now I must quickly explain what I have done." She gestured towards the crumpled nun. "With the knowledge of 103000 Grimoires and the power of the First, I have accelerated his Prophecy as far as I dare. I have already informed the First five, but I will say it now; as he promised, you cannot be truly killed until the prophecy is complete. You came back to life when I completed the next summoning."

"But..." Songbird held up her small hands, counting off fingers. "...Isn't this too many?"

"Yes. I performed six of the seven remaining summons all at once, by taking control brief control of his power with the knowledge of the 103000 Grimoires. It may have damaged reality somewhat, but this will all be fixed once we have succeeded."

" _Endommagé réalité?_ I do not understand; why have you moved the prophecy forward? Our goal is to defeat his will, _n'est pas_? Why assist him so?"

"Joan, we have but little time. Those who would stop us have found us once; they will soon do so again, no matter where I take this building. So we must act now, decisively. We will prepare to complete our work tonight, somewhere they will be slow to react."

"So you have meddled with time. Tell me and my brother, we demand it; what exactly have you done? What comes next?"

"Next, we return to where this building came from. That place has the greatest population density of areas that will experience midnight soon. As for what I did, I have moved time ahead to bring back the summons, but when I let loose the magic to prevent his revival the world's time shifted back chaotically. But it does not matter. As far as the prophecy is concerned, the next midnight will be the final night. The dawn of the 12th Day of Christmas."

"Ohohoho… How interesting! But, my dear, satisfy my curiosity. For the rest of the world? Yes, what do they witness, hmmm?"

The woman paused for a moment. She was lost in thought.

"If you insist. I will find out."

Finally she moved past the summons, carefully weaving between them.

"For the rest of the world, it is several days and some hours later from where it should be…"

She approached the still smouldering grandfather clock. It ticked one final time, and then fell dead, its hands resting on 5:16.

"I would guess that for the rest of the world… Though early in the evening… Tonight is New Year's Eve." [6]

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] To a certain extent, I'm surprised the main story hasn't dealt more with this subject. There may be some in universe explanation, but I can't imagine the rest of the world, despite knowing who Othinus is and what governments claim about her attempted terrorism, and seeing all those strange events, wouldn't begin to question. Rosslyn's plot is what I consider a fairly natural Raildex approach; trying to take advantage of thigns for their own purposes. I purposely kept her relatively hidden until now, though there are subtle traces off her handiwork all throughout Part 2 for those who know where to look.

[2] This all implies exactly what you think it does.

[3] Science lesson! How do you stop magnetic fields, and how are people protected from arcing electricity?

Faraday cages! Technically, any strong lattice of conductive metals, properly grounds, acts like one. What it does is disperse electrical charges around and away from any internal objects, bearing the brunt of the force itself. While not a long term problem for Mikoto, electromaster-extraordinaire, I predict that it would still be harder than crunching a metal can.

Just how much harder? Well, we'll have to wait and see.

[4] You might think this is a spelling error, but you'd be wrong.

It's a bad pun.

You might then think this is a bad time for a pun, but you'd be wrong.

It's always a bad time for a pun.

[5] Been a while since there's been on of THESE, huh? An Index kidnapping plot: feeling nostalgic?

In truth, a lot of earlier details were meant to mask this. I elaborate more on why it makes sense in the rest of the Chapter, but here I can explain why didn't happen earlier. A few reviewers noted their suspicions all the way back in Part one that Amazo and Baker were after either Index or Imagine Breaker; it just seemed to fit. However, their backstories have already revealed they didn't really come from the magical establishment: Index and Imagine Breaker were things they quickly learned about during Part 1. Which makes you wonder: what will an obvious opportunist like Baker do with that knowledge when her back is to the wall?

I sincerely hope you will be surprised.

[6] What, you thought the timestamps were just a cute affectation? Dearies, I had this planned from the word 'go'. Midnight was already important in Part 1, but when I decided to set up the dramatic finish like this I did it again. Some 360000 words later, and I can finally justify being anal about pacing. The natural river of time has taken a few odd bends, though you might have to wait until the epilogue to find out more.

But you may be wondering, isn't all this 'wibbly wobbly timey wimey' stuff a little bit out of left field? Well, somewhat. The Prophecy spell is clearly time based, but there's much more than that to it and my justification. What I'm really doing for now is providing a hint at a later development. There isn't a whole lot of foreshadowing I've been able to do, but more will come, and I hope you'll see how all the pieces fit together soon enough.

[7] One last reminder; Q and A will be coming up soon, and I am still working on the bust size one. MAN, that one threw me for a loop… Anyway, if you have any more questions, you can either send it now or on the next update; everything from Chapter 17 on will be included. I do wonder if there has been an issue with reviews not showing up; I hear that bug is going around again. Note that I never delete any reviews or stop them (unless they are just complaining about Mikoto and Touma pairings in Spanish, those I have a mild distaste for) from being published, so if it's not showing up it's a bug. Either way, if you have a direly important question, don't be afraid to PM: I'll respond there, but also in the Q and A.

Until then, we're wrapping up. And as always, thanks for sticking with me.


	53. Part 2: Epilogue

**Epilogue:**

9:21 A.M., December 31st: London: St. George's Cathedral: Medical Suite

As the Necessarius nurse passed by the single bed of her rarely used infirmary, she spared one last sympathetic look for the two teens she was leaving within. At first she had been nervous about relying on her rarely-needed practical First-Aid; magic was so much more simple. But now she found herself wishing she could provide more than simple stitches and a splint. Yet she merely turned away her clipboard, letting it lie on her counter-top; proper care for the boy with Imagine Breaker would have to wait until he could be flown to Academy City.

As she readied herself to leave, she spared the poor girl who had accompanied the boy here one last sympathetic, if confused, glance. Explanations of his expected quick and total recovery did not rouse the girl from her obvious dismay. Rather than say any more, the nurse pulled the door shut behind her, silently hoping privacy would do more for the girl than sympathetic words.

Once she was alone, Mikoto sighed. The careful control she'd maintained on her face flickered, but slowly returned as her face shifted into a grim parody of a smile.

"Guess I... Got what I wanted, h-huh?" Her chuckle was a sad thing, dying as it passed her lips. "All this time. Got to fight with you. Not be a burden. It all... Seemed so innocent. So unlike... Before. What it could have been, you know?"

The events of the night had taken its toll, but she did not feel tired so much as drained.

"A-and now, you.. Asked me to help. And not just that, but to go in your place? It should be too perfect for words."

She stumbled over the words, forcing herself to speak through her hesitation. She knew he could not hear, but it was still something that had to be said."

"Even if in some way it's my fault that this happened, that I could have done more, could have looked after Index, at least I get the chance to make it right. R-right?"

She nearly broke. Her chest heaved once, but she forced it to another long sigh as she held her head in her hands.

When she could finally continue, her voice was a small thing indeed.

"...So why do I hurt so much?"

One hand moved to her heart. It still beat, she could tell, but something felt different. The rhythm was gone, off-kilter, her centre off-balance. It no longer felt part of her, but something that had invaded, took root, and threatened to pound her apart from the inside out.

"And after all that, after I said... All that!" She laughed again, mania slipping through. "Y-you didn't even... Look at me any different. I thought, then, maybe, but..."

She remembered the moment.

!~~~~~~~~!

 _"Index has been kidnapped."_

 _What colour remained drained from his face._

 _For one long second he knelt motionless._

 _Then with one titanic effort he rose._

 _Bloody drips fell from his loosened bandage._

 _He turned with an iron look in his eyes. One that ignored all exhaustion and pain._

 _Until he saw Mikoto._

!~~~~~~~~!

She had seen the familiar look in his eyes, the stare of unbowed determination, as he stood up despite his wounds.

And seen that look shatter when he met her eyes. Saw the pain that glance had caused him. And thought she understood why.

And with that, understood why he had in the past seemed to reject the advances of every girl he had ever met; had stayed by a Certain Magical Index's side.

"...Damn it. I-I don't want to be... T-this kind of girl. T-t-this is just s-stupid." Something was needed to distract her, before the tears threatened to overwhelm.

To look at his sleeping face was depressing. When she'd first picked him off the ground, back in the warehouse with the Shark, he'd seemed so peaceful in repose.

Now he ground his teeth. She could almost hear his nightmares, feel his suffering.

" _Damn_ it."

What she could feel was almost worse. The burning shame and sadness and pain of an unavoidable truth made plain as day, of a fact that had been staring her in the face so long she hardly recognized it, could hardly bear it or her own selfishness for hiding from his own feelings, his own desires.

The bed sheets crumpled as she gripped harder and harder.

But eventually she stopped. And when she did, she felt hollow. More than a little empty; like something inside her had packed up and moved away.

Something cherished.

"But I guess. You must feel that way too, huh? About her."

She paused, not liking what she'd become in her determination to stand by his side. It was one thing to feel, but another entirely to be careless for the feelings of others.

"...So I'm a big girl. I get it. I worry about her too, y-you know? She's… All right. Really. Really don't mind it as much, if this is the way..."

For a long moment she was worried she was lying to herself like before, but upon reflection realized it was the truth. She wasn't even really angry, not like she'd thought she might be.

It was little comfort.

But what was, was something new. A determination inherited. It was not quite the colour, the tenor of her own unique stubbornness. This came from without. It overpowered the tension in her heart, drowned out the crying of its beat.

"Well. Enough of this. I said I'd look out for her. And I will. I promised."

She remembered the promise he'd asked of her, when the first were welcomed into St. George's.

She remembered the phone call she'd received just moments ago from a panicking Uiharu, reporting how a certain building had somehow returned unscathed back home while Mikoto waited for the nurse to finish.

Most of all, she remembered the words he'd tried to speak as he lay exhausted on the ruined earth of the Archbishop's Park.

!~~~~~~~~!

 _He faltered._

 _Fell slack._

 _And crumpled to the ground._

 _His eyes struggled to open as the girls hovered over him, individual troubles forgotten in their worry. But he only looked at one, lips fighting for her name._

 _"Mi…?"_

 _She listened, not noting his good hand sliding to her arm._

 _"D… Go after… D-dex... W…"_

!~~~~~~~~!

He'd barely gotten them out, even as he fought to finish, but she'd heard enough. As much as she could bear.

She stood, forcing herself not to dither too long, staring at him and his pained expression.

"Well…"

The closed infirmary door was swiftly opened.

"…Rest easy. I'm… I promise. I'll bring her back."

It was just as simple as taking the first step.

She stood on the threshold. And realized that despite her resolve…

It was not so simple after all.

Her lips opened one last time, and she half turned.

But said nothing, and closed the door behind her.

!~~~~~~~!

9:24 A.M., December 31st: London: A Simple Hotel Room

"Goodness. Where has the time gone?"

The Accountant put special emphasis on the 'has' as he murmured, peeking out through the blinds of his window one last time. He liked to consider himself immune to strong emotion, but was forced to admit that watching the sun and stars race through the sky like horses on a steeplechase had shaken him enough to bring out a bad pun.

Such a reaction was nearly as distressing as the sudden loss of nearly two days. Not merely the sun and stars but every clock he had checked, digital or otherwise: all had registered an impossible time. It had certainly made scheduling a bit difficult; he could only hope his next appointment would be having similar problems.

He straightened, taking his ledger and pencil from his breast pocket to jot a quick note on the matter. But before he could turn he heard the door to his room shut.

There was a woman standing there, dressed in torn beige robe that contrasted widely with her golden locks and bright, beautiful smile.

She beamed at the Accountant.

He looked at her, squinting over his nose.

"Good evening, Ma'dam."

"Perhaps." Though her tone was as light as the steps she took forward, she focused on him with surprising intensity. "Oh, please don't say something witty like 'I don't remember ordering room service'. Let's keep this civilized, shall we? You're under arrest!" She struck a pose with one finger outstretched; before breaking into charming giggles. "Oh gosh, it's been a while since I done that! What fun!"

He gave her the once over, and decided she wasn't joking, whatever her display might suggest. He had grown distressingly used to this type of sociopath.

"Very well." He returned the ledger to his breast pocket, and held out his two stubby arms. "I yield."

The young woman frowned, an expression that did nothing to limit her beauty. "I didn't mean _that_ civilized. You're not going to resist? Not even a little?"

The man stared at her, not a trace of interest in his eyes. "No. Why would I? You must be some sort of agent of law; I will not impede you in your work. After all, Whatever you may be, I at least cannot pretend to be a fighter."

"Nor a lover, I'd imagine." Her cruel barb fell flat, but she merely shrugged. "Well, don't go anywhere. I need to get some things set up. You understand; 'agent of law' business."

Before she could reach into the folds her robe, the Accountant sighed aloud.

"You must know how pointless this all is."

"Oh, there's always a point. Justice, for example? Charity, goodwill to all mankind? I've heard that much, at least."

"I respect your ideals. But no, there is no point. No matter what you do."

"Oh? And I thought you weren't going to resist?"

"I will go with you, as I said. You'll drag me in front of a court which I can stymie for years, and when and if I do finally get put away I will negotiate a way out. Someone, somewhere, somehow, will get me out. And this will all start again."

"Hmmm…" The woman sighed, suddenly thoughtful. "More to you than meets the eye, is that it? Not you garden variety criminal?"

"No. Even though all this failed, my true employers made a tidy profit on the stocks. Ms. Roosevelt's contributions were irrelevant to our greater aims, as you surely have already discovered. They will be satisfied with my work, and seek to reacquire it. I am not a petty crook, the kind who spend time in prison. I provide a service. That is all."

The Archbishop nodded politely. Though somewhat disturbed, the Accountant pressed on.

"And I'd guess by now you know I represent a vast network of powers that thrive upon a certain level of chaos and insecurity in the world, based all _over_ the world. It can be simple robbery, it can be a toppled government, it can be insurance scams; money is best made on the back of a tragedy after all. And I am the architect of tragedy." He realized he was smiling, and coughed. "In this world, true criminals are not men like Mr. Morris, or any of his thugs. They are merely the convenient tools of my hidden employers, through my hands."

She chuckled deeply, before gazing at him with sudden intensity. "I suppose I can agree; in some ways I'm much the same. But you're quite open about all this for someone who has lost. Enjoying the chance to brag, are we?"

"Lost?" This time he chortled openly. "No, my dear, we have not lost. Do you have any idea how much we made on insurance scams tonight? And the English economy will be experiencing a new boom as crime plummets; having gained a controlling share of hundreds of struggling corporations during the Mr. Morris's adventure we stand to gain immensely. The Jewels don't represent even a drop in the ocean of money we stand to make. And as for being caught? It doesn't matter; my guilt and my fate are mutually exclusive, with the kind of wealth I have behind me.

"Truthfully, though, there are several mysteries about this whole episode that I would like to unravel. I am not certain how you even found me, though I guess Mr. Morris must have had a hand. I'm surprised; he did not seem the type to assist law enforcement so quickly. I must have evaluated him poorly. He was always a difficult asset to deal with, but not for the usual reasons."

"Don't feel too bad…" The woman rummaged in her dress, searching for something as she mumbled. "He's a strange case, I have to admit. Very interesting, what I found out about his past. Took quite some digging, let me tell you! In places you could never reach, of course, rich or not."

The conversation died as she began to set a number of miscellaneous objects from her dress onto the table. A magnifying glass, but also a compass, a thin length of rope, a bundle of seaweed.

The ledger itched by the man's breast pocket.

Abruptly the woman looked up from her work, wearing a mischievous grin.

"I can tell you are curious. Want to hear a little story before I deal with you?"

She didn't wait for an answer.

!~~~~~~~~!

Flashback: Several years ago, A Certain Government Facility.

It was a good job, and the man knew it.

He whistled a cheery tune as he strolled down the pristine corridors. He nodded authoritatively at some of his lounging agents; they snapped to attention. He winked at passing secretary, and she blushed, darting away.

It was a good job.

He rounded the corner, finally catching sight of the woman he was really after. She gazed at him severely over half-moon glasses and a tidy clipboard, her matching uniform far better managed than his own. "There you are. If you're done harassing the workforce, we can do the inspection."

"Hey, she gave me her number at the social last night! Seriously, all I had to do was slip in a bit of Japanese I picked up from my training, and she thought I was a pretty cool cat."

His second in command rolled her eyes, ignoring the gratuitous finger-guns he fired her way.

"You're quite proud of your linguistic…" She watched his eyes light up, and raised her open palm. "No, stop. I see where you're going with that, I'll speak to Human Resources." [1]

He face fell comically, arms trailing the floor as he slouched. "No fun, no fun at all! Just needling you, sheesh…" Abruptly he sprang upright, plucking the clipboard from her hand. "Oh well, work to do."

She shook her head and followed his lanky gait. His long strides took them from one store room to another; they checked the various vaults and security systems, the chemical storage and door sensors. It was a routine sweep, and one they'd just about grown used to doing together.

"We make a pretty good team, don't we?"

"You hit on another girl half an hour ago." She raised a thin but expressive brow. "Did you just assume she would reject you?"

"Whoa! Hey, even I'm not that unlucky! No, no, I'm just saying. When we first met, I thought I'd just die from the cold looks you shot my way. Arrows to my heart!" He pantomimed a dramatic death, earning a look from two passing workers as he slid against the wall to the floor.

"Don't be surprised." She stepped over his corpse, sliding a movable cart back into place. "I would have had your job if you hadn't received that special training in Academy City on the new equipment. Though I am glad you did, in the end. The technology we received as part of the negotiations is complex and dangerous."

She realized he had frozen, mid-climb from the floor. Turned, she saw the look of unbridled joy on his face. She sighed in advance.

"Was that a compliment? Aw, you really DO lik-"

"You're impossible. Can we go to the High-Value Processing Department now? I want to stay on schedule."

"Right, right, lead the way." He watched her stride past. Too closely, for she sensed his gaze.

"…You first."

"Drat."

!~~~~~~~~!

The sight never ceased to impress him.

The cavernous chamber echoed with their every footstep. Despite the handful of cleaning experts and security crew, the room seemed nearly empty. Their work continued a minute at each of the four side stations, before finally making their way to central attraction.

"And there they are." The man had to fight the urge to press his face up against the clear polymer like a child at an aquarium. "Ain't it grand? Only here for a few weeks each year, but man, is it worth it. I got here just in time."

She peered of his shoulder, smugly amused. "Amateur historian, are we? And I thought you only had your mind on a different set of jewels."

"Excuse me!? And THAT'S not harassment!?" His feigned indignity actually brought a chuckle to her lips, so he quickly smiled. "But you know, it's stuff like this that I joined for. I really care about Queen and country, you know? Why else would I take a job that's this much work?"

She thought a moment, thin lips pursed.

"The pay is acceptable."

"You really are heartless!?"

As he shook his head, he turned his gaze one last time over the nigh-impregnable vault.

The lights suddenly dimmed and flashed amber.

Then immediately went a deep, pulsing red, alongside a low siren.

"The Hell!?" He spun, darting down to level ground as his second in command followed. "Third stage so fast? I need a report, now!"

"I'm on it." The woman was already on her headset, voice tersely cutting into a broadcast conversation. "I'm instigating full lockdown."

"Do it." The man was already through the secure double doors, pushing towards a security console attended by a lone, shaking guard. "What's on the monitors? What have we got? Answer me, get a grip on yourself!" He shook the poor grunt, but it took several seconds for the shock to leave his system.

"J-just look… Look!"

His commanding officer glanced down at the multi-screen display, and felt his heart stop.

It was anarchy.

On half the monitors, everyone was dancing.

Heedless of what must be horrible music, they cavorted freely, spinning gaily with their colleagues in the pulsing security lighting. They seemed to be making a steady progression, as if they were heading somewhere.

The man fell limp against the console, arms shaking.

"I-I don't believe it…"

He fought the feeling of light-headedess and stood straight, looking for the source of the disturbance.

On a different set of monitors, he saw the man in strange garb, red tights and overcoat, marching cheerily through the corridors. His hands were at a flute or pipe in his mouth, and wherever he stepped he was soon trailed by more and more of the facilities staff, mindlessly dancing. When he ran into a sealed door, he simply danced in place until a worker came to his side and opened the way.

"What's gotten into everyone!? This makes no sense!" The woman had made it to his side, headset thrown to the floor. "I'm not getting check-ins from the loading docks, or Storage…" Her eyes finally wandered to the monitors. "…W-what in heaven's name is going on?"

"I don't know, but this is a heist. Seal up tight as we can, authorization Alpha-Niner-Charlie-Foxtrot. Get to the outer stations, now!" The startled man scrambled to escape, pushing past a small crowd fearful cleaning experts.

"What's going on?"

"Is this a break in?"

"We need to hide!"

The man ignored their panicked voices, his mind whirling. "I don't understand, but he made it this far. He can probably penetrate the ultra-secure vaults if he's this confident. He's in some sort of medieval disguise, but it's not practical. It must be for show, or have some personal relevance. So what...Who's strange enough to-" A bizarre thought came to his mind. "This can only be Academy City. Mind control tech? But we have an arrangement. Rogue agent? Still, how do we-"

"You're not serious." The woman by his side stared at him, clutching at her head. "Mind control? Are you insane as everyone else?"

'You weren't there. I didn't see too much of the really odd stuff, but I saw enough impossible things. And heard about strange studies they're running on the human mind. Can YOU think of anything else to explain this!?" But suddenly he stopped. "…Do you hear music?"

"I… I…Wait…?"

Since she was at loss for words, he turned back to the station, continuing to lock down as many functions as possible. "If he can somehow coerce the support of staff, nothing we can do will stop him for long. After all, we have the passcode. But we can stall and hope help arrives. Now, what is he even…" His head pounded, and the music grew louder, but a sudden thought cleared the growing fog.

He froze, and then ran off without a word, back into the huge chamber. The woman followed, shouting, stumbling over her feet.

"Wait, where are you going!? We need to… I-I hear music! Why do I want to… W-we need to shoot this ****** *!"

"If guns would work they already would have!" He was at the central vault already, finger dancing across the keys as he fought to keep his foot from tapping. "I'm going inside the vault!"

"That really is insane! You could die in a situation like-!"

"Going to use the internal override, keep the door sealed as long as possible!" He smiled grimly as the door hissed open. "No one is stealing the Crown Jewels on my first damn month!"

"Wait!"

He spun at her voice as the music began to drown out the drone of the alarms, hardly able to hear her. "What!?"

"Here," An oxygen tank and mask thumped into his chest, "You don't want to suffocate!"

"T-thanks!" He stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him. In seconds he was on his knees, initiating the simple mechanical procedure that would seal the vault until any alarms had been cleared.

As finished he heard a weak thump on the wall, and turned to the door as he pulled the mask over his face.

"And Finlay-!" He looked into her panicked eyes, as her head began to bob up and down to an invisible beat. "I d-don't know how to dance!"

"…I'm sure you'll look great either way! Hang on, it'll be okay, I promise!"

Though he felt his heart sink as he realized he had no way to keep that promise, and was forced to watch as her usually bright eyes turned duller and duller.

Soon she had spun away, and though he couldn't hear her well through the polymer vaults he could tell she was laughing an alien laugh as she danced.

He took deep breaths of oxygen as he struggled to calm himself, but as soon as his heartbeat had slowed he noticed.

The music had slowed as well.

It slowed, and slowed, and then it was gone.

All that he could hear was the muffled droning of the alarms.

"Acoustics? No, I heard, can still hear… Subsonics, maybe? What on earth…" He stood a moment next to the table of Jewels, hand attempting to rub his chin. When it ran into the mask, he jerked alert. "The mask? But-"

"Ooh, how annoying."

The unfamiliar voice jerked him out of his reverie, and he looked back into the chamber.

Standing just outside the vault was the costumed man responsible, followed by a long dancing entourage. He paused his piping only long enough to speak though, making short terse sentences.

"Magic powder didn't get you?" He played on before speaking more. "Guess this is airtight?" He tapped the vault with his foot. "And that mask, doesn't help." A few more notes. "Oh, what a bother!"

"The hell is wrong with this guy…" The Finlay eyed his foe narrowly, trying to memorize every detail, though the dancing conga-line behind his gaze was a painful distraction.

"Won't save you… From this, though!" The man's eyes widened as the costumed criminal pulled a intricate hand-mirror from his pocket, carefully playing a simple melody with one hand. "Sorry about the nasty side-effects. But I really want. These for my private collection."

"What are you doing now!? Answer me!"

But the criminal merely smiled, and held the mirror up to the glass.

"Good night!"

Though Finlay guessed he should not look, he could not avoid the instinctive impulse, could not avert his eyes in time from his own reflection.

He screamed once, and his world went dark.

!~~~~~~~~!

"…ey! Hey, ma'am! Ma'am!?"

"…What is it, trainee? We're nearly out of time. It took us far longer to subdue that Piper than I liked."

"There's one more in there! Look!"

"…So there is. What is he doing?"

"You think this is what the Piper was complaining about before we got to him? I wonder if this guy slowed him down long enough for us-"

"It doesn't matter, just get inside and wipe his mind. A quick jaunt through the shadow world should do it, hurry along lass. Don't dawdle now, phase through reality and get inside."

"B-but Ma'am, I'm n-not really certified yet on that sort of translo-"

"Now!"

"Y-Yes'm! Going through ri-"

"….Hmmph. Kids these days, being coddled. Back in… Ah, there you are. Took you long enough"

"O-oh god, the hands, they kept trying to poke me, I hate it there, I-"

"On with the mindwipe, girl! Get to it!"

"Y-yes ma'am… Uhm… Hmmm. Hmmmm…"

"…What is taking so long?"

"I don't know? He's got this kinda messed up feel. I-I can't really get inside him? It's a very muddy-"

"Did you already work on him? Then why are we wasting time, we have to go! Though it's good this chamber here slowed the Piper down, we're on a strict schedule."

"A-are you sure? I don't recall… I remember from my studies, this looks like an ongoing curse of some kind, maybe we-"

"You'll never make it far in Necessarius if you dither!

"Right! Sorry! Coming! I'll catch up, g-go on ahead!

There was a long pause, and a sigh.

"…*****. Ooh, I hate the Shadow realm, damn it damn it dam-"

!~~~~~~~~!

It had been an unusual dream.

The man woke up, wondering why his bed was so cold and hard this morning.

And wondering why his head hurt unlike any hangover he'd ever experienced. His mind was shrouded in a thick fog, slowing his thoughts.

"There's one still inside! Get this vault open!"

He sat up, bumping his head on the bottom of a table. That made it worse. He wondered briefly why he wasn't more annoyed. But instead, he just felt empty.

A door hissed open, and he shook his head as some police officers carefully approached him.

The man could only respond weakly. "H-hey, how'd you guys get into my…? Wait, this isn't…"

"Don't move! Hands up! Don't move!"

"Which?" Even he was unsure if it was a feeble attempt at humour, or just a sudden inability to understand nuance. Either way the response served him ill as he found himself staring down two pistols. He vaguely was aware he should be panicking. And yet he was lost for a response.

An impulse told him to raise his hands.

Belatedly obeying, the man's hands flew up; they were soon slung behind his back by a pair of burly officers. He was cuffed, the mask of oxygen ripped from his face as he was dragged from the vault, still struggling for understanding.

The explain did not help. "You're under arrest for attempting to steal the Crown Jewels of England. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention…"

The man's mouth fell slack as the officer began his spiel. He knew this was wrong. But he didn't know how.

An impulse told him to deny it, to clam innocence.

"N-no, that's not true! …I didn't! I…?"

All at once, like it was burned up by the morning light, the fog in his mind cleared. But it did not reveal the truth he had been expecting, hoping for.

Where before his life had been a story, now he saw only snippets. Scattered goals, a strange suite of skills, random facts and preferences; with no time to sift through his addled memories, there was only one thing he knew immediately.

He did not want to be arrested.

An impulse told him to look down. He obeyed, and saw his salvation.

"Wait, I work here! See, look! Name tag, badge, uniform!"

"Quit your fighting, you!" He was harshly knocked on the back, nearly sent to his knees. "We know you stole a spare uniform and hacked yourself security access. Your comrades may have gotten away, but at least we got one of you."

"W-what? No, this is mine! I'm…" He read as quickly as he could. "F-Finlay! Finlay Morris, Security Chief! What the Hell are you talking about!?"

They ignored his further complaints, dragging him to the exit doors as they slid open. A woman stepped through, and they called to her.

"Security Chief? We've finally got one."

"Yes, that is me. And good for you; at least you didn't let them all escape. Now what is the meaning of this delay? We want to return to normal procedures as soon as possible, now that the remaining intruders have fled."

Finlay struggled in their arms as he fought to turn to the strangely familiar voice, the only familiar thing in a sea of confusion. Just the sight of her face alone brought comfort, eased his troubled heart.

The impulse told him to ask for her help.

"W-wow, am I glad to see you...!" He spoke loudly, dramatically, seeking to catch co-workers eye. He grit his teeth as the pain in his mind sharpened to a razor edge, but forced an easy grin regardless. "Look, let them know who I am? Please, they seriously think-"

"Who are you?"

The words cut deep. His anxious smile faltered, faded, as he looked into her cruelly distant expression. He looked at the assembled faces around him, faces also hauntingly familiar, but not quite placed. Yet no one called out to him, or came to his aid. No one recognized him at all.

For a second, a flash of his life came together. He knew he had known them, and they him. But something had taken that away.

The pounding in his head worsened, but he pressed on.

"C-Celia? You don't… We work together!"

Her eyes widened, and for a second there was a flicker of doubt.

But then she frowned, shook her head, and moved a hand to her chest.

"…Name-tag." She waved the offending article and the police nodded understanding. "I've never seen this man before in my life. Do what you will with him, just get him out of my facility."

She didn't even watch as he was dragged from the room. His head was pounding far too much for him to care.

He didn't resist as they took him from the facility.

When they threw him in the back of a policy lorry, or when he was tossed into a holding cell.

Finlay didn't even resist when the big tattooed man seated next to him pushed into his shoulder, the second shove knocking him to the floor. The pounding in his head was too much to bear, pushing all other sensation from his mind.

"Hey! Get a load of this chump." The prisoner waved to his fellow captives, clustered away from his intimidating "What's wrong with you, bud? You afraid of going to the slammer? Well, say something!"

The small crowd of small-time crooks chuckled, anxious to sustain the big man's good humour. A scrawny fellow nodded. "He's just a greenie, look at him. Doesn't even know where he is!"

"Let me give you a proper introduction, 'security officer'." There was more laughter as the big man crouched low, one tattooed arm reaching down to lift his victim bodily from the floor. But he paused.

His victim's eyes were unnaturally empty. Even when they swung up slowly to look at his tormentor, they stared through him as if he weren't there at all.

"…What the **** is wrong with this-"

The burly criminal had no time to complete the thought; such is the effect of being slammed into a steel bench.

The blood from his broken nose sprayed across Finlay's face as he slammed again and again and again. He paid it no mind, grappling the stunned man harder as he rolled, throwing him across the room into the bars of the cell. The would-be tough guy wheezed and fell silent, sliding down with a meaty plop to the cell floor.

There was silence as Finlay slowly stood. The pounding in his head was finally clearing, as if soothed by the violence.

"…I can fight." He looked at his hands with mild curiosity, wondering at the way the blood dripped from his face to splash upon them.

Two police officers came pounding into view, hands on their firearms as they rounded the corner. "Hey! Cut it out, you louts! No…" The first man realized in shock the prone body lying before his feet. He half-drew his weapon. "No one move! Away from the door!"

The criminals, though stunned, shuffled away. Finlay stood where he was, motionless by the bench.

"What happened here!?" A few criminals pointed at Finlay, but when the officer approached the culprit he hesitated. There was something unnatural in the man's bearing. "No sudden movements. Hands where I can see them."

Finlay frowned. His head hurt. There was little he understood right now.

The impulse told him to act.

So he acted by instinct.

Suddenly his expression softened. No longer lifeless, it was filled with earnest concern, much like his quavering voice. "…Officer, there's been an altercation. That man needs medical attention, he tried to rough me up but these other fine men here, they tore him off me." Finlay pointed slowly, as if fighting his own nerves, and for a second there was pause. But then the other officer, a woman, knelt down by the supposed victim.

"What did you do to piss of a guy like that?" The first officer lowered his weapon and gazed for a minute at the wreck of the big thug. "You ought to know better. Acting like that will get you in trouble here."

"I'm sorry, officer, you're quite right. I can only be grateful that the others wanted to escape a brawl. No one here wants more trouble than we've got."

"Sensible…" But the officer frowned when the broken man coughed, groaning. And quietly spoke, drawing everyone's eye as he struggled to his back, terrified, ignoring the officer's shouted warnings as he pointed a shaking hand back at Finlay.

"…Ficer… He's an animal… It was him…!"

And as the officer wondered how that was possible, he registered just too late how close Finlay had approached.

It was the only opening he needed.

"Let me show you."

It was over in seconds. Both officers slumped to the floor, battered against each other and the steel bars of the now opened cell. Finlay stood in the doorway a moment, musing.

The crowd of criminals still standing in the cell exchanged sharper looks and sharper whispers.

"H-holy Hell! The **** just happened!?"

"W-what kind man moves like that!? So vicious, like!?"

"He's a monster! But we can bust out, right? Let's…"

Eventually the chattering paused. All looked at the back of the man standing between them and freedom.

No one took the chance.

And all flinched when Finlay turned, staring at them vacantly.

Suddenly he felt the urge to intimidate them. Where it came from wasn't clear, but he obeyed it for lack of a better plan. He lunged forward, arm snapping out at the nearest criminal. The scrawny man quailed under his grasp, trying to keep his weasel-like face away from the terrifyingly calm visage boring down into him.

"Who am I?"

"…The boss! The boss, you're in charge, yeah! You're the baddest guy, the big cheese!" His colleagues nodded their assent.

"No. Who am I?"

What!? A-ah…" Desperate for an answer, the criminal glanced down to a fortuitous name-tag. "F Finlay? Finlay Morris!? That's you, ain't it!? Please don't hurt me!"

Finlay's gaze never wavered. He stared at the weakly struggling man, the pounding in his head now completely silent. Something about that name was familiar to him. He knew it was his. But he also knew it was not. It was a very confusing thing. Though he raged with emotion inside, not a single shred of evidence bubbled up to disturb his placid expression.

He thought for several long seconds, trying to place what it was that continued to give him direction. He could not decide whether to call it training or experience. He decided it didn't matter; he simply obeyed the impulse.

His face shifted again. Narrowing his eyes, stretching his mouth into the widest, toothiest grin he could manage, Finlay leaned into the cowering, petrified, mesmerized crook.

"Tell me. What do I look like to you?"

Looking in saucer-like eyes, the terrified criminal could see nothing but the face of death. He had no words, at first, but eventually stammered out the truth.

"…Like Jaws, man. L-like a shark…"

Finlay stared a moment longer. And then let the man go slumping to the ground.

"…I like it. Call me Finlay "The Shark" Morris."

With nothing like doubt ever able to form in his mind, he strode out of the cell and into his new life. [2]

!~~~~~~~~!

9:34 A.M., December 31st: London: A Simple Hotel Room

The Accountant's pencil finally stilled. Its sharp edge was worn dull, but it rested now, work accomplished. It slid into his pocked, along with the ledger.

"…Most interesting. I thank you, though I hardly understand. The effects of some memory destroying drugs working together? Is that it?"

"Well, Magic based, but more or less so. You see now, don't you? Isn't it interesting?" The woman with blonde, flowing hair smiled brightly from where she knelt on his hotel bed. "The spell used on him by the Piper, as far as I can tell, didn't wipe his mind, not like my forces did to the others that day. What it did was destroy his sense of self and identity. And not just in his mind; in those who know him." She pursed her lips a moment, tapping them with a long slender finger. "Every living human within the range of, say, London most likely, completely forgot a man named Finlay Morris ever existed, and those within the Jewel Facility were merely obeying the fake explanation we implanted. I suspect they are remembering the truth right about now. I wonder how they will react; I will have to get another task force there to clean up the mistakes of the first.

"As for the Shark himself, well. The man's skill in crime are just a perverse reflection of his skill from security; and beyond that, he knows how to read a man, how to manipulate him, how one disguises his own persona; it was certainly made easier with his own lack of emotional balance. And on top of it all, he very specifically knew about one facility." She laughed lightly, bringing a smile to the Accountants lips. "He's been trying to steal the Jewels not because he wants wealth or power, but because that's what his subconscious is telling him was important to him. He doesn't have any accessible memories, but instead is driven towards that misunderstood want… That need.

"With his shattered mind, he built up the best persona he could to explain his situation. He had knowledge of security, remembers being attached to the Crown Jewels, and suddenly lacked consistent morality. So rather than wanting to protect and defend them…"

The Accountant interrupted on his cue. "…He became obsessed with stealing them. No wonder he was so careful around the cleaning facility's staff that day; most unlike him, but of course he once worked with them, somewhere in his damaged psyche. Master Criminal is not such a leap after all from his former occupation. How remarkable."

The Accountant strode to the window a moment, looking outside as the sun set behind a slightly less crowded sky-line.

"Well? How was that for a story?"

"I must thank you, Ma'am. I admit I harboured some curiosity on the matter. Mr. Morris was an unusual associate, even by my standards. I just assumed he was even better at hiding information than I was at unearthing it. I doubt I'll recruit his like again. And, speaking of which, I suggest we get to business."

The woman nodded along cheerfully until that last bit, before her mouth form a small 'o'.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Play coy if you prefer. But you would not tell me all this if you did not seek to employ me. I suspect that, Magic or not, there is always a need for good bureaucracy. Money matters to everyone. I would happily provide you my services and the information I have gathered; I assure you, they are worth their weight in whatever precious substance you would care to name. For a chance like this, I will even sell out my current employers; I suspect you have far more practical power than even they."

"Hmmm…" The Archbishop stretched out on the bed, letting her legs dangle over the edge. "I do find it somewhat difficult to manage all that paperwork…"

The Accountant smiled, flipping out his ledger again. "Wonderful. I have a variety of plans I can offer you, if you don't require my complete suite of services. But I'll admit, I'm most interested in learning about this other world, so I quite happily fully invest myself in-"

"That won't be necessary."

His casual flicking through pages slowed. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm not hiring you. I just told you that story for fun."

"...So you will arrest me after all? How boring."

She nodded, but her eyes twinkled. "Tell me, have you ever heard of the Aqua Tunnel?"

"That luxury cruise submarine? Yes. I organized a heist on it once, before I retained Mr. Morris. But I do not see-"

"Did you know there are actually 11 more, just like it? I'll be taking you to one of those just as soon as we're done here. And not for a pleasure cruise."

"Is there… Some sort of legal court there?"

"If you think you will stand trial you are sorely mistaken."

"And here I praised your for your ideals. Are you just going to lock me away and hope no one finds out? Ma'dam, I suppose I have not made my reach clear enough. I have friends in banking, in business, in _royalty_. Sooner or later, someone will-"

"Not ours, I assure you! And you should have some inkling of your situation. You must be aware of the broader reality that the world is slowly waking up to. You saw inexplicable things, powers and Magic. In short, you've crossed over to a hidden world, a world of powers far beyond the knowledge of the everyday, even those around the world who are now very much confused by the sudden change in date."

"...Are you saying I know too much? Killing me would be quite gauche."

"Too much? _Gauche_?" Her laughter was like bells strummed by an ocean breeze. "Oh no. We don't fear you or your knowledge. I'm just following tradition, that's all."

"How so?"

"Technically, you assisted in a magical crime. Whenever Magical crimes are committed in the United Kingdom, it's not dealt with by the civil department. That's why I'm here. You'll be going to a very special prison, as a Magical criminal."

"...What?"

"Oh, it'll be an experience, I'm sure. Some of the inmates there are something else: witches who harbour a burning resentment against modernity for destroying the basis of their skills, magician mercenary's who hunt non-magician's for sport, cultists who would just love to draw their demonic runes on some defenceless fool's skin... You'll fit right in. Oh, and that Piper fellow. But he's mostly harmless."

"...B-but I'm not a Magician, or whatever you creatures are! I'm just an ordinary man, I can't do Magic, you can't-."

He froze. The ledger slipped from his grasp. On it, below a long list, was the name "Finlay S. Morris" with a line struck through it.

The Accountant was no stranger to cruelty. He had even seen her type before. But even to him, the Archbishop's predatory smile was unnerving.

"Maybe you'll have time to learn. But as Archbishop of Necessarius, head of Anglican Magic… I doubt that." [3]

!~~~~~~~~!

9:34 A.M., December 31st: London: St. George's Cathedral; Underground Tunnels

"Ah! There you are!"

Mikoto froze. The voice was familiar, but she welcomed no conversation.

Yet she had little choice as Tour Guide Girl darted up to her side. The esper was forced to halt her speedy journey through the underground tunnels, watching carefully as the other girl rifled through the satchel she carried by her side.

"I was hoping I'd find you; was called back into help deliver files because, WOULDN'T YOU KNOW IT, my vacation apparently ended at two in the…" She finally caught sight of Mikoto's face, and her whining stopped. "…Hey, girl. You all right?"

"What? Yes, I'm fine. What is it, I'm in a hurry."

The Tour Guide Girl furrowed her brow, but then shrugged. "…Well, I think you're gonna to want to see this." The envelope she passed Mikoto was plain. "I'll be quick; I've got work to do. Basically, when we invaded Baker's floating hide-out place, one of our spies snuck in and did some quick rooting around. He came out with a coded journal, and the piece of paper you've got there."

Despite her rush, Mikoto became curious after the first few lines. "…This looks like a different version of the rest of that song."

"Yeah, the 12 Days of Christmas but trust me, its get weirder."

"…I'll say."

"Our code breakers are still working on the journal but this sheet was apparently just in bad Latin. Looks like her linguistics were a bit rusty, though I guess it didn't matter; Magic worked anyway, so what do I know. Anyway, what I've got is a better translation of what she meant. We think right now that this proves the song we know is just a really bastardized version of this original verse, from who knows when."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know, but it might be useful to have a copy." The Tour Guide Girl hitched up her bag, jogging on the spot a moment. "Now, I gotta split before I get in serious trouble. Good luck, whatever you're doing. And be careful. You look a little off."

And with that Mikoto was alone again. Alone to read the strange lines once more.

On the First Day of Christmas: The Partridge wailing.

On the Second Day of Christmas: The Doves appalling.

On the Third Day of Christmas: The Hen unfailing.

On the Fourth Day of Christmas: The Songbird calling.

On the Fifth Day of Christmas: The King awakening.

On the Sixth Day of Christmas: The Courser charging.

On the Seventh Day of Christmas: The Land a'burning.

On the Eigth Day of Christmas: The Lords betraying.

On the Ninth Day of Christmas: The Terror striking.

On the Tenth Day of Christmas: The Kingdoms crumbling.

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas: The Homestead falling.

On the First's Day of Christmas: All Ends arriving.

"…This doesn't matter right now."

The note was soon crumpled and resting in her pocket. She had already changed from her custom made outfit, back into her normal wear. She had ignored Othinus' questions, diverting the tiny Magic-God to the infirmary as she rummaged through her bags.

She clutched the object of her search much more closely than she did the note. She had found it carefully stored away, wrapped up in her softest clothes; now it rested in the palm of her hands, coolly comforting.

But she knew it could not last, and it heated up in her hand, digging painfully as she squeezed.

She eventually found her final destination. Knowing it was empty she pushed into Touma's temporary room, doing her best not to notice all the little things that reminded her of him.

But her gaze did linger upon the carefully folded jacket, still resting on his bed. She caught herself smiling weakly and hardened her resolve. Gently, ever gently, she placed the Gekoto brooch she had been holding on top.

The two gifts sat together comfortably.

Her lips moved, but the words caught in her throat. She hesitated a moment longer.

But said nothing, and closed the door behind her.

!~~~~~~~~!

9:44 A.M., December 31st: London: Downtown Streets

"A-are you okay to be driving so soon? And should we really have taken your van out without telling anyone? They are all so concerned about trying to explain the time event to the public-"

"They'll just ask some eggheads in Academy City of a plausible story. And I'm fine. The spinning in my head stopped a few seconds ago anyway, so I don't feel like up-chucking any more."

"We've been on the road for five minutes!"

"Ah, get off my gosh-darn back. We don't have much time, do we? What do a few broken speed limits mean at a time like this?"

"You're right, but… No. My resolve is firm. We have to help!"

"Right on, sister! Now you flip off that stinker who tried to cut us off the bird while I punch this baby into high gear!"

"…Though I question your intent, at least your language is improving."

!~~~~~~~~!

9:56 A.M., December 31st: London: Heathrow Airport, Reserved High-Security Airstrip

It had been quick work to defeat the Airport's outdated security, but Mikoto did not spend much time reflecting on her victory.

Instead she finished studying the cockpit of the one of Academy City's super-jets. Monitoring Traffic Control, she reflected on the confusion her unscheduled hijacking was likely causing. Confusion, and the ire of passengers suddenly redirected from yet another boarding, and who weren't very willing to accept "inexplicable time anomaly" as an excuse.

Yet the esper cared little for the disruption she was about to cause. She briefly noted this was becoming a trend, but pushed aside any doubt as she studied the controls.

"…So max speed is really 9500 KPH if I push the engines… Well, all right. If any systems send warnings I'll just do the opposite of whatever caused it. Should be easy. Now, for take-off… That big button there-?"

She heard a rapid thumping on the nearest outer door.

"How'd they catch on so…?"

The thumping continued, and Mikoto heard a vaguely familiar voice, somehow was loud enough to pierce the reinforced muffling that ultra-powerful engines couldn't.

Her hands hovered over the controls a second, weighing the pros and cons of just taking off. She sighed when she realized that wasn't an option.

The hammering went on unabated as she approached the door to send a quick signal in lightning. The latch released, and the hatch slide open.

"…and I don't know _what_ the flip you were thinking but…" Lessar belatedly noticed the lack of solid surface, and ceased angrily swinging her tail just in time to avoid striking Mikoto. "…Eh?"

"A-ah, hello, Misaka-san!" Behind her Itsuwa waved bashfully, taking the time to raise a basket in her other hand. "I brought some pastries. T-that is, if you're hungry, of course."

"…What are you two doing?" Mikoto stood in the doorway, tired eyes registering mild surprise. "Shouldn't you be recovering?"

"Obviously not, esper! Especially if you're not! Now push aside, we're boarding this flight! I want to start my nap now, I know that it'll be nearly seven in the evening by the time we land in Japan." [4]

Mikoto remained motionless, and Lessar hesitated to make good on her threat.

"This isn't your guy's problem. It's… I'm the one-"

"Gosh darn that stupid noise to heck!" The tail whisked the air like it belonged to a master chef as its owners' expression grew agitated.

"Though I disagree with her language, Lessar-san is right. Misaka-san, this is our fight too!" The magician's earnest nature crashed against Mikoto's resolve. "Didn't we all say we are in this together, back in the library? We want to help!"

As Mikoto wavered, Lessar nodded sagely. " Exactly. Besides, if we stay here you have no idea how much poop we'll get for letting the nun get kidnapped. Seriously, we're dead. This is self-interest at this point." But then her eyes narrowly evilly. "…And I've got a score to settle. A certain ancient Jewish King needs a spanking."

Lessar smiled weakly at esper. "That means she feels bad as bad as I do."

"I DO N… O-of course I do! Gosh darn it, let's just go!" Finally Mikoto stepped aside as the magician's quickly boarded. "Now who the heck is gonna fly this thing!? I wanna take off before Floris finds me and rips me apart for shaming New Light!"

Mikoto shook her head. _This is not what I planned at all. I wanted to do this alone. I don't want to drag anyone…_

 _So… Why am I smiling, huh? What does that make me?_

She felt that question was important, though she could not quite name why. Instead she found herself distracted by the thought of the one person she could not bear to let hurt again.

And finally found the words to speak.

"…Good bye, Touma."

She closed the door behind her.

!~~~~~~~~!

… **And that's it.**

 **This was a long time coming. Book 2 was always going to be bigger that Part 1, but I didn't suspect how things would develop. Characters and stories take on a life of their own, I find; though I planned the ending chapter nearly a year ago I never anticipated how casual yet strained Mikoto and Touma's relationship would become. I think I never intended them to get so casually comfortable, but that was how their characters took things. That was the point of all this, you see; it's clear they are growing closer, yet something remains in between.**

 **I leave my analysis at that; if you have any questions, please feel free to ask and I'll get a response update online in about a week. I'll be busy moving into a new home during the time, but I'm certain I can manage that much.**

 **I hope you've enjoyed this romp, and I'll see you all in the Questions and Answers soon, and Part 3 not so soon.**

 **Thanks for sticking with me.**

 _ **Footnotes:**_

[1] Heheheheheheh.

Look, I needed some humour after that last bit.

[2] Astute readers will know that I never really made parts of this too clear in my original telling. I warred a lot about including a more obvious hint at the link between The Shark and facility back when Touma and Mikoto first entered it. But when you think about it, there was no real justification for making the current security chief (Celia) a minor character until now. I COULD have shoehorned something in, perhaps swapping out the comedy guy in the room, but since I was playing around with memories it would have been awkward to foreshadow anything. It would either be completely jarring or not make sense how it happened. I tried many times to work it out until I just gave up, so now you only see her here, merely a way to show Finlay's original side. If I ever revisit this story, what I'll probably do is make her a minor character with more relevance in perhaps the Mall (temporary assignment?) and then reintroduce her in the facility. That might spark my imagination, because so far, this is the only real part of this whole plot I'm not happy with.

[3] I do enjoy parallelism. And speaking of which, I wonder if you can see my efforts now to mirror things the good guys and the bad this chapter? About hidden allies and who is really pulling the strings.

In particular, I want to discuss the Shark. Finlay Morris's character concept began as a small digression based on what I thought could have happened to Touma, perhaps when he first lost his memories but especially when he went through Othinus. Where Finlay fell apart, Touma's strength of character pulls him through his confusing and turbulent life. So in some ways, he's Touma's antithesis; his inversion. When a man, rather than loising his memories but retaining his character, experiences the opposite, what do you have? Something rather frightening, I'd wager.

Here's the real question, though; did I portray his situation well enough? He started out as flamboyant criminal, confident and at ease, vastly experienced. Soon it was shown that when pushed, he became icy-cool, only in certain moments losing his composure (When the Jewels were threatened? Remember that?) Finally, it is revealed that his rapid swings in attitude and tone are the result of a malleable personality, adapting based on security training to a life of crime. I suppose what I did was less foreshadowing, most of the time, and instead creating circumstances that hinted at a need for explanation. I wanted readers to think 'okay, this shark is this and that, but he seems a little inconsistent, unhinged, off-balance'. I can only hope I succeeded. Regardless, he was fun to write, and I'll be sad if I have to go back when all is said and done and re-edit his voice to make things more clear.

One final tidbit; remember when the Shark first started going of the rails? In that scene, the Accountant (Otherwise unnamed) crossed out something in his ledger. He had written him off as far back as then, which is precisely the point; the Shark was always just an asset. That's just one of the hints I dropped that their relationship was not as it seemed. There are more, should the curious ever waste the time to find them, but this was one of my favourite minor details.

[4] That means 6 hours from now til midnight, Academy City time. At least, that is what my own math tells me. If I've ******ed this up, please let me know. The most complex math I normally do these days is cash transactions, my high school calculus long forgotten.

[5] One final note before Q and A time. And to also notice how few people actually seemed to understand what I tried to imply in Touma's words before he passed out. I expect I've ruffled a few feathers with this twist ending, and suppose that just means I should have explained it better then; it's something I'll go back to in edits, someday. Regardless, I think I can justify her bleak interpretation, both from evidence and from her own unstable mindset. Either way, see you in a week for Q and A!


	54. Part 2: Questions, Review, and Update

Part 2: Question, Review, and Update

 **Hey everybody! This a shortish update before I go in a hiatus; I'll be moving soon, so won't be able to write, and then will be very busy for a while. Short answer is at LEAST a two month delay; the longer answer is perhaps to as late as the beginning of 2017. For now, though, Questions!**

 **And Answers!**

 **Chapter 17:**

Question 1

 **Guest:** Jul 1

 _...Anyway I got a question, what are Catherine Baker's and her female followers' 3 sizes?_

 **Post script note: I misread. Additions have been made.**

The Bust/Waist/Hip sizes. I suppose the cat's out of the bag; the reason I wanted to wait to describe the girls was because I was introducing 5 new characters all at once in a few chapters. Only 1 of whom has a bust! The horror!

But on that note, let's not be gender specific. I shall do the men as well! That may not have been what you asked for, but I like being gender neutral, so feel free to ignore the sections you don't care about. On that note, since I don't have a firm grasp of actual cup measurements, I'll just be generalizing for the women.

Anyway, below is a small breakdown for each character, in a certain order, with long and short descriptions. Hope this clears things up!

1)

Character: Daedalus

Long Description: This is a tricky one. Deadalus's form is fluid, but generally he is a stooped figure, so he seems shorter than he is. He's also often hooded in a simple robe, so you don't get a great sense of what his body looks like when he is at rest. In combat, he can shift to nearly any length and shape, but only within the bounds of what metal he has to work with. In other words, his own overall mass. He can't get bigger without getting more brass to work with, yet he can shape what he has into large plated wings, suitable for speedy flight and gliding, sharp blades or lashing whips. If you have an older grandpa or uncle, the kind that seem to have shrunk down due to age, you might have a basis to judge Deadalus's overall shape.

Short Description: Down there? Any size he wants it to be. _If you catch my drift._

2)

Character: Agnes the Green Witch of Woolpit

Long Description: I had always envisioned Agnes as a natural beauty. One who has long, straight black hair cascading around broad but sensuous shoulders, tall and proud of bearing as she stands on shapely legs. Basically a bombshell, but with an extra plant-like pigmentation. A 'Va-va voom' pin-up girl meets the Wicked Witch of the West. If you want an actual image to work from, a black haired Jessica Rabbit from "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" but with green skin and a cackle.

Short Description: Single D's. Let's not go crazy, but definitely the object of some jealousy.

36-25-34

3)

Character: Joan of Arc

Long Description: Ah, the amourous Saint. We have some depictions of the girl from history; A short, sturdy woman with black hair. In my vision, she cuts it short, being not just a military leader but also a warrior herself. In no way is she fat; she is well toned muscle, through and through. Just broader in the chest without having a distinctive chest; a mannish torso, purely by genetics. I'm sure there's an hourglass in there somewhere, though, for those with the patience to look. On the whole, she would not consider herself pretty, but for every look there is a lover, is there not?

Short Description: A song comes to mind. " _…_ _built like a 'fridgerator with a head,"_ [1] isn't a bad metaphor, though she is a little more petite than that. Maybe a mini fridge? Another good metaphor would be "washboard". Luckily she doesn't care.

32-30-30. Just short.

4)

Character: Songbird

Long Description: A Native American woman, hailing from pre-contact Cahokia. As such, her skin is darker, and though she may be developing worry-lines she retains most of the beauty of her youth. I doubt we'll get an exact age out of her, but she is likely between Agnes and Daedalus in real years. On the whole she is petite, but not the same was as Joan; taller for one thing, by an inch or so, but also much more slender. Not quite stick-like; I suppose Nakoma from Disney's Pocahontas is a reasonable analogue, but Songbird has a more aquiline face and a distinctive nose.

Short Description: A-Cup. Poor Songbird… I really have made her the butt of many jokes, but her personality developed in a way that demands it.

28-24-26. Very petite.

5)

Character: Solomon, King of Jerusalem

Long Description: Very tall and regal, a broad shouldered man with middle eastern looks, fairly dark skin to match. Daedalus would have a similar tone, though not quite as dark yet. Though not a giant, Solomon seems to tower over others with intimidating presence. He's really just a little taller than Agnes; perhaps a hair above Stiyl. His hair is a dark brown, shorn medium length around his ears, and is over-matched by a long, thick beard, which itself is carefully braided and adorned with simple cloth. He wears a purple robe, as befit his status, and one each hand we wears two rings; the fifth dangles from his neck on a chain. My best advice would be to google Nebuchadnezzar; the two are obviously different people, but I expect that depiction of old Nebby are closer to Solomon's reality than anyway Solomon has been previously portrayed. Call it a historian's hunch, but Solomon probably wasn't white, if you catch my drift.

Short Description: Look, he was King. No one was going to complain about his dangly bits. But he never left anyone with reason to anyway; he had like 4 well known kids, and many, many wives.

6)

Character: The Chinese man

Long Description: Here's an interesting one. Though we don't actually know what the man historically did look like, in all likely hood he was actually pretty imposing. Here, however, I have rendered him small, almost comically so, but he is no little-person. He is just dramatically short, but still well-muscled, so broadly strong and fit. Think a Krillin-like physique from Dragon Ball Z. He bears himself like a champion, but bears no scars. His thick black hair is well kept carefully tied back, almost like he is vain.

Short Description: Another man that no one would be wise to complain about, but for _very different reasons._ Still, he is proportioned exactly as you would expect; can't all be winners.

7)

Character: The Polynesian Youth

Long Description: I'll give it away now; this one is complete fabrication. Much like Songbird, there's no point trying to guess his exact history. For description, he's a young islander, somewhere between Touma and Sogiito in overall looks and size aside from his heavily tanned skin. Speaking of his skin, he wears only simple trousers; the rest is a patchwork of tattoos, with simple black lines tracing complex patterns across his body, cut off often by burns. The scar tissue is healed enough to avoid looking horrific, but it still clearly roughened.

Short Description: Hasn't really occurred to him to measure, and he'd not likely know what to think.

8)

Character: The Russian Man

Long Description: Do not think him stereotypical to his country man; this fellow is just very tall, and otherwise proportioned despite being on the slim side. Close to two meters is where I would place him, with blazing eyes of fiery green and gold. You might call them nearly hypnotic, for their penetrating depth. His hair is light brown and tangled, falling in unkempt waves past his shoulders. His beard is much the same, but even longer. He wears a cleric's dark robe that trails nearly to the ground.

Short Description: He won the lottery. Lucky *******. But then again, his story isn't going to be a particularly lucky one… And it's more or less true. Well, less. But we'll see.

9)

Character: The Japanese Woman

Long Description: There is a probably-somewhat racist joke that Asian women in general don't really age, until they age all at once, seeming to shrink. This is probably due mostly to portrayal in media (the old woman trope often requiring very visible signs) and partially the inability of some to notice smaller differences in unfamiliar face types. This woman belies that, to an extent; while she is certainly, she straddles the cusp of being infirm. From her rough skin and long but thinning grey hair, she has clearly had a rough and tumble life, though a period of rest and indolence might have hampered her once toned fitness. She, like others on this list, may seem nondescript, but she has the eyes of a confident leader. A badass, if you will.

Short Description: B-cup. And considering her apparent age, taking pretty damn good care of herself, stiff joints aside.

33-27-30

10)

Character: The Greek Leader

Long Description: Curly haired and naturally handsome, a sandy blonde with a sprinters physique. He is dressed in a fine Persian gown, brightly coloured and flamboyant, but it hangs on his shoulders like a royal cape. Beneath is a more simple toga, more suited to battle. It is clear from his expression that he is arrogant in the extreme, but is so charmingly easygoing that one expects his attitude is often overlooked. He also seemed confident enough as he gazes down on those around him, (whatever height distance he may be experiencing) as if he already expects he is in charge.

Short Description: Likes to brag it's all that, and though he's not wrong it doesn't last too long. And believe it or not, that's a hint to his identity, because this guy actually DID exist. Probably the most famous on this list, too.

11)

Character: Catherine Baker

Long Description: Baker looks much like she used to. In fact, though I did not mention it, her second appearance in the Dianoid was an homage to her first. She was still dressed like a showgirl, small and shapely, with long brown tresses flowing just past her neck. However, where once she smiled brightly, this time she remained cool. Somewhat pale, like she does not get out much, and harbouring a perhaps secrets still.

Short Description: Between a B and a C cup. Adaptable with attire, from modest of imposing; much like her. But also sometimes hard to shop for. So I hear.

35-25-34

Question 2

 **Handsomistic1:** Jul 1

 _Started from the bottom now we're here_

 _Started from the Dianoid now we back up in here_

 _So Touma's in Academy City and Misaka is still in England?_

I think I clarified this at least somewhat, but the trick was the Miss Baker stole the building back in Part 1, and then just kept it in her pocket dimension. This means that both were technically in England still; the Dianoid was just brought over by Baker in her pocket dimension. It made a convenient bastion for her, but when she lost control it had to reappear. There's a reason for why it was in the sky, but it'd be nearly impossible to guess. I plan to make it an element of Part 3, and from their reverse-explain this feat more clearly. Or perhaps I'll explain the more clearly, hint at it better in the Interludes; there were some words I used that might have provided a hint. Still, it's room for improvement when I come back and do my big re-write someday.

 **Chapter 18**

Question 1:

 **FrodoFighter:** Jul 14

 _So all of Baker's group are gemstones? That was surprising, i did not expect that._

 _Baker and Joan we knew about, but all the others... was there a specific reason that they needed to be Gemstones?_

 _Rereading the last chapter i wonder: Does Laura know about the phases? Does she know what Touma saw, there, in the last world?_

Yes, yes, and I severely doubt it but who knows? Laura is inscrutable. And she knew at (Spoilers) that new boy in the latest few books.

The section yes could do with some explaining. A running theme of this Arc was powers that don't obey the natural order; everyone I introduce is going to have elements of that. And it's plot critical that the Gemstone Magicans are Gemstones, and that the magic world long assumed this was impossible. I say no more for now, but like I said, this is all part of the plot.

Question 2:

 **Chen:** Jul 9

 _By the way, I was wondering, did Touma and Mikoto manage to buy a Christmas gift for the gekota-doctor like they were supposed to back in chapter 6? I really would like to know..._

Let's just say that this is being taken into consideration, thanks to your reminder. It jogged my memory; let's just hope I remember to reference it before the end!

 **Chapter 19**

Question 1:

 **Guest** :

 _Man, summer must be ending early or something, because this fic doesn't get nearly the reviews it deserves. Imo, this story is within the top 5 for this site. Then again, being in 13th place kind of to its own misfortune, eh?_

I swear, I'm not including this one just for the kind words and because it was a slow week as it noted. I'm actually just thinking that the odds of being in 13th place on a site this big is basically like winning a major lottery prize (Not the jackpot, mind. Just like a couple grand, maybe a nice lawnmower). So, thanks!

 **Chapter 20**

Question 1:

 **Handsomistic1:** Jul 24

 _Or will her roommates rescue Index instead?_

They're going to try.

Question 2:

 **Guest** : Jul 23

 _"and I am still working the on the bust size ones." has an extra 'the'. Anyway, question to ask; do you have plenty of time to fix whatever amount of grammar mistakes and typos in your story? About ten chapters should do the trick, unless you want to do more._

I'm not exactly certain of what you mean by this; if I take the actual question part literally, the answer is not really. At least, not if I want to write at a reasonable pace. I do only work full time right now, so that's a lot of free time usually, but I go back a Master's degree in September, and then may be swamped until Christmas. I will do whatever changes are pointed out to me, but that's all I can do aside from my own triple-draft editing process.

The last part makes me confused: ten chapters makes me think you have something you'd like me to edit. I have actually already said I'd do some work for another, and I bit off a lot (Itherael is about as prolific as Tolstoy).

 **FrodoFighter:** July 22

 _A queston, should i actually know what is wrong with the Shark? He is not quite himself but other than that... i have no clue._

 _So Solomon split Itsuwa and Lessar apart while unharmed. Based on the Legend of him splitting a baby in two halves to decide who is the mother?_

To Part 1: No. Well, now you do. The story has been revealed. And you shouldn't have known what his story was, but I think I left enough hints in have it at least make a little sense. If not, well, I'll go back and fix that at some point.

To 2: It was a fun little detail; glad someone picked up on it.

Extra: From a PM with permission

 **FrodoFighter:** July 25th

 _Hi,_

 _i just read your latest chapter and upon reading it I found myself having some questions I was hoping you would maybe answer. (Or not if the answers are of paramount importance for the plot)_

 _It is about Mikoto's reaction and Touma's action in the first part of the chapter._

 _I understand that she, as far as i understood it, thinks that Touma is in love with Index, in a romantic way. Also she feels really s*** about how she "apparently" ignored his feelings etc._

 _What I don't understand are three things:_

 _1\. "Touma's determined look breaking upon looking at Mikoto" Why would his look shatter by looking at Mikoto, why would this glance "cause him pain"?_

 _2\. Only a minor one "Mikoto's emotions" Why exactly does she feel so sick when thinking about how Touma has "asked" her to save Index, when it should be exactly what she wanted? Is it just that the thinks he values Index higher than her or is there something else behind it?_

 _3\. "Touma's last words" You said in the footnotes that only very few people understood what you meant, what Touma implied in his last words "Mi...? D... Go after... D-dex... W..."_

 _Mikoto seems to have understood: "Misaka, go after Index" . Was that what he said? He could've said "_ _ **REDACTED**_ _" as Mikoto's interpretation ignores the D... . As for the W..., it could maybe mean something along the lines of "_ _ **REDACTED**_ _"... or something._

 _So my question is, What exactly did Touma want to say to her if she misinterpreted his request?_

 _Thanks for lending me your time and, if you choose to, answering my questions._

 _Thanks in advance._

Hey! No worries, I expected this to be confusing. Some parts of it will remain so, but I will clarify what I intended at least for now. The way it ties up to their respective growth will remain ambiguous, I hope.

1) Well, this is an interesting one. My goal of this chapter was to get them to see eye to eye, both literally and figuratively. Touma saw something in her look that he knew too well; this ties into his own mental issues, but also my answer to number 3. I'll explain more there, but let's just say for the now that one of the major contradictions he has (finding self worth) is kinda being hammered a little bit when he sees her reaction, and understands at least part of what she is feeling (There'll be a bit explaining this more in Chapter 1 of Part 3). I will only stress for now that it is NOT the romantic side he quite gets.

2) That's the thing: it is exactly what she thought she wanted. But in the totally wrong circumstances; where it doesn't result in her being closer to him. Or so she thinks... What she aims for is to be doing something not just with him, but for him; to be useful. It's basically her character arc, though I feel it is an unhealthy one: this is one of the results of that fixation, that obsession. On top of that, she also can't shake off her own feeling of not matching up, not being worthwhile to him. He does kinda stand on a strange plane even she can't quite reach. As for her direct feelings at his words, well, if you have issues with self-worth and guilt and her massive complex about measuring up, it makes for an easily misunderstood situation. One which may she may need to puzzle out with some help.

3) You're pretty damn close. As a reward, a bit of ambiguity; in those moments, exactly how certain do you think Touma was of his own words? His own feelings? What he REALLY wanted to protect, and how he REALLY wanted to do? Especially in light of her speech? It's the contradiction here that will be highlighted later, and later still his own revelation as he realizes what exactly he DOES want. I'll say no more, though, because you are eerily close, and I'd hate to spoil too much.

Hope that helps. Also, do you mind I put these in the Q and A section? I'm currently writing one up now, because as you might guess, this twist threw people for a loop. I might spruce up the answers I give you here a bit, but on the whole I think these are worthwhile questions people could have but be unwilling to ask. Except the last one: you're too on the nose.

Remaining Questions:

Nearly all the questions here got directly answered in my following update, or don't really make sense as direct questions (I suspect NoNameAvailable Bis and Shouko were being what I've heard 'rhetorical' with their questions) , so I'm leaving this Chapter for now. The other ones may no longer apply based on differences interpreting what I meant. If I missed something deeper in there I apologize: please let me know and I'll try to clarify in an update to this. If you definitely asked a question and it didn't appear here, assume that the reviews screwed up and let me know; I'll make sure to get back to you.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Review:**

This is the section in which I talk about my own thoughts. I tend to do this a lot, but I like to do it more.

This book is not something I'm totally happy with; mostly because I'm trying to set up a HECK of a lot for Part 3, so many loose ends and details that seem meaningless will hopefully find some fulfillment later. To a certain extent, this book was meant to be like a 12 episode arc or so of the show: I wanted there to be more interaction in less tense settings with Mikoto and Touma, so that their mutual understanding might progress. I don't know how I did on that front, or if I went to far; I wanted a mix between story development and slice-of-life, so like all compromises it probably failed both and disappointed everyone. I'll likely go back to this Part the most when it comes to final, final edits; part may become an entirely new story, as I rewrite, say, the mall scene, and include more hints for the Shark's backstory without just adding words. Tightening up things, shortening some sections that may have overstayed their welcome.

Here's a list of major things that will be resolved in Part 3:

1) The Gemstone Magicians. Both the justification for them, AND their individual stories. The latter will take the form of extra, non-essential backstory. You can read Part 3 without them, and they will take the place of the Interludes (Between the lines) from other books. These updates will also not interfere with the upload schedule of Part 3; they will come a day after Chapters 4, 8, 12, and 16.

2) The originating cause of this story, and the way it will fit into the canon universe. You heard me right.

3) Feelings.

 **Update:**

So, that wraps up the official responses to questions. Not as many pointed ones as at the end of Book 1, but that's fine by me. Though I'm focusing on my school for a bit, I hope to get things done quickly; in the very best scenario, this story could be done by New-Years, but it might also be about this time next year. It's hard to say. I hope you can wait, and if you you choose to do so, thanks for sticking with me.

 **A Certain Holiday Season Will Return!**

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] Bonus points to anyone who knows this song this line of lyric is from WITHOUT use Google. It's an obscure one.


	55. Part 2 and a half: Abridgement

**Hey all. Hope it's not been too long.**

 **(Edit: It's been too long)**

 **Welcome back to a Certain Holiday Season, with Part 3…**

… **Coming just after this update. Eventually.**

 **Just like last time, before Part 2 began in earnest, I wanted something to set the mood. At least this time it'll be a little quicker. It's just one part rather than two but it still sets the stage for the coming story. We're almost ready to hit the last leg of our journey. I was originally hoping to get everything done to have the overall crescendo on New Years itself: this project grew too massive to make that likely. I also wanted to write everything before posting anything: given my rate of writing, that felt too cruel.**

 **So INSTEAD, welcome to…**

 **A Certain Holiday Season 2.5: Abridgement 2**

6:04 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, Former Dianoid Building Grounds, District 12

It was a rough day to be a contractor in Academy City.

So thought the man standing in shadow. He glanced distrustfully at his watch for the second time in as many minutes. He also carefully ignored the pleasant song playing through phone buzzing by his ear. He held its receiver just far enough away to not pick up his dire grumbles.

"...Not enough time's jumped forward on us, us missing deadlines and other crap... And obviously it's _our_ fault, _our_ problem..." His teeth grinds as he pauses, sighing wordlessly. "Clients're _already_ impossible to deal with. [0] Now I've got this **** to deal with... Least I'm not with the Events Division, still tryin'ta set up fire-works for tonight. Whatever tonight actually is... Bah, and I used to _like_ New Years..."

There was a click, and he silenced himself. On the other end of his phone a woman began to speak, some secretary for Anti-Skill. As he listened to her curt professional tone, he could only shiver in the cold and brace himself for his coming ordeal.

Yes, it was a certainly rough day to be a contractor in Academy City.

So thought the man, standing shadowed by the great, impressive, impossible hexagonal prism, phone held limply to his head as he waited for the secretary to finish her practised spiel.

"…Yes- Yes, thank you, can you please get your boss on the line personally. She's going to want… Yes, it's urgent."

The voice in his ear buzzed with annoyance, but soon it was replaced with another round of soothing music that did nothing to soothe him. Instead he eyed his work crew shuffling anxiously nearby their robotic assistants, in various states of shock as they awaited any kind of guidance.

The music pouring through his phone suddenly stopped, and he jerked alert. This was the moment for professionalism.

"…Ah! Hello, this is Senior On-Site Supervisor of the Chartered… Yes, yes, I'm calling from on-site of the clean up operation, I have an urgent update that requires-"

He paused as an angry voice cut him off. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut until it eventually stopped.

"…Yes Officer, the time glitch has caused us problems as well, but that's…"

More angry noises, this time loud enough that even his subordinates flinched.

"…No Officer, this is differ… Officer, please, let me explain." He paused, taking a breath before letting it all stream out at once"...We can't complete the job as specified any more because-"

The response was truly deafening; several of the automatic robots registered safety alerts, requiring manual overrides from workers trying to cover their ears at the same time. As chaos unfolded behind him, the supervisor could only close his eyes and bear the pain.

"O-Officer? Officer!? If you'll just…"

Finally he just switched the audio off from his phone altogether. As the others sighed in relief, their supervisor counted out thirty seconds before turning it back on.

There was only icy silence. Somehow that was worse. He swallowed, and intoned into the void with forced cheer.

"…The original contract, as stipulated, had us, the chartered agents hired by Anti-Skill, cleaning and restoring the Dianoid grounds to prepare the land for redevelopment. I am _happy_ to report that not only have we repaired the graviton-style artificial gravity control device to prevent further accidents or uncontrolled implosions, _but_ we have also cleaned up the debris of broken goods! However, we are _deeply saddened_ to report that we can no longer decommission the site as requested. You won't be charged and any upfront costs will be reimbursed, because as far as I can tell this falls under 'Act of God' in your insurance policy."

He patiently waited until she gave her curt, buzzed question.

"…Well, because it's back."

He frowned as he looked up into the skyline, just to make certain realities cruel joke on last time.

"...Yep. The Dianoid. It's back. For about fifteen minutes, it's been back. At least we know the generator is working, because it seems to be balanced and maintaining an appropriate…"

The phone buzzed. His frown deepened.

"You know: the Dianoid. Yes. Yes Officer. The Dianoid. That Dianoid. Yes, the one that mysteriously vanished on Christmas. I'm glad you understand. So! You can see If we decommission the site now, the building will... What? NO, I'm not crazy."

The phone buzzed and his eyes widened. He shouted into his phone now, unable to keep his arms from waving.

"…LOOK OUT YOUR GOD-DAMNED WINDOW IF YOU DON'T-"

The phone clicked. He sputtered, turning pale, until he wordlessly pocketed it and turned to his apprehensive workers.

"…She hung up."

The statement seemed to use up the last of what little life he had left; that, and the strength to amble away, turning his back to the silent monolith behind him.

A woman from his crew staggered up behind him, catching up quickly. She kept pace, peering ahead at him.

"U-uh… Sir?"

He only mumbled. "Typical. There goes our holiday bonus."

"...Sir, what about all this garbage we've picked up? These stuffed animals and toys, are we just going to-"

"Just shove all that crap in an alley, I don't care. I'm going home." He waved lazily behind him, tossing his helmet into a small pile of snow. "Happy holidays or whatever! I'm going to get drunk and watch some fireworks and laser lights. If you want to join me, I'll be too busy wallowing in my own misfortune."

The door to his cheap car slammed shut behind him just before he roared off into the rapidly-approaching night. The Dianoid continued to shroud the stunned contractors.

So no one saw the mysterious shapes. Ten in total, leaping from the impossible building's flat peak, spreading into Academy City. They fanned out in all directions but soon were gone.

One remained alone at the top.

And soon was gone.

!~~~~~~~~!

6:15 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, Streets of District 7

"Man, it's boring when the others are gone, ya."

The boy's feet kicked up what little remained of the city's surprising snowfall as he swallowed the last of a bun mooched from the bakery he rented at. It may have been a white Christmas, but New Years was looking brown and dreary.

"All there is to do is go around town and ogle the few remaining chicks." He struck what he knew was a cool pose as a small group of girl walked by. When they hurried off, muttering vague threats, and he merely sighed at their back. "…Just isn't the same, ya. At least they're hitting my 'winter apparel' and 'verbal abuse' fetishes pretty well…"

Aogami Pierce ran his hand through his blue locks and sighed. It was becoming like this all too often; if it wasn't one other member of the Delta Force gone, it was another. When it wasn't that it was both. It was becoming hard for one man, however idiotic, to keep up their notoriety.

But he refused to let the blues conquer more than his hair. So he kept up his jaunty pace until he noticed an excitable young girl bouncing beside a teenage boy with white hair. The former immediately attracted his attention.

"Hey, hey, hey hey!" He darted in front of them, causing the little girl to squeak with surprise. "Cute loli's cosplaying as Level 5s!? Though the costume needs work, you've got great hair for the role! That's pretty good, zap zap, right?"

Last Order slowly backed away, leaning against the leg of the teen who had stepped beside her.

"Misaka Misaka is hesitantly appreciative of the compliment, Misaka Misaka says as she wonders exactly was the strange blue-hair guy means…"

Aogami ignored her, taking as many mental snapshots as he could. She recoiled from his various poses, flinching again as he pumped his fist into the air.

"All RIGHT! Another fetish I didn't know I had! Yes, that's three today, I'm on a roll! One good thing is that I've had more time to collect them..."

"What the **** do you think you're doing?"

For the first time Aogami really noticed the white haired boy, now pushing up into his face. Despite leaning on a cane, it was clear he was ready for a fight. But the blue-hair boy just nodded, ducking around to give him a thorough inspection.

"Say, your costume is even better, ya! Even if you're not cute, you've got the scary look down pat. Is there some sort of New Year's party going on? Any other hot babes gonna be there?"

"…Are you ****** in the head?"

"Whooa…" Aogami staggered back, eyes wide. "…Is that a fourth one!? That's amazing! How have I never- But could a girl even-"

"Leave before I make you."

"Ya, ya, I gotta go think about that one, it may be impractical… Enjoy your party or whatever, and thanks for the inspiration, ya!" [1]

The two watched him leave.

"Misaka Misaka says she is very proud that that strange man was allowed to walk away without having horrible vectors applied to his body."

"…Hey."

The little girl turned up her head to her taciturn guardian.

"Tell me if you ever see him again."

"Misaka Misaka wonders what you-"

"So I can turn him into paste."

But while she chastised the teen for his poor behaviour, something moved overhead. He caught sight of it and, mildly interested, kicked his electrode into a higher setting. His interest grew when he observed the strange laws that seemed to be describing it, but observe was all he did, content that whatever it was not immediately a threat.

So he walked on, continuing his short shopping mission as the sun set on Academy City.

!~~~~~~~~!

6:23 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, Streets of District 2, Outside Anti-Skill Central Headquarters

"...I just hope that boy hasn't gotten distracted by anything…"

"Uhm? Did you say something? Are the patrol routes done?"

Yomikawa Aiho looked up from her clipboard, but just smiled at her partner in anti-crime, Tessou Tsuzuri's, concerned question. She waved it away with a shake of her long ponytail.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just some errands that needed to be ran. Lot of food expired when that whole time thing happened, or whatever."

Tessou considered that thoughtful, pencil resting against her lips as they sat in their parked Anti-Skill van. "Is that how it worked? I thought that the scientists were just saying there was coronal ejection that simulated rapid movement of the sky and caused clocks to spin out of control…"

"Maybe, but the girls I'm living with won't eat anything past the best-before-date, and insist that this counts. Besides, better safe than sorry, Misaka claims." Yomikawa paused a moment, confused, then abruptly cursing. "Me too!? Been trying to get them to stop with that, and here I… Anyway, it doesn't matter. Let's just get this damned paperwork out of the way. One more problem... First the damned contractors making everything difficult, now the Directors breathing down our neck-"

"There is an awful lot of care they're asking us to take for this event, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Too much. It's just some fireworks and lasers, maybe some hi-tech holograms. And a good chunk of the students have actually gone home for once, so even if most have returned by now, what are they so worried about? Some hooligans?"

They worked in silence a few moments longer, until Tessou spoke up. "Maybe it's like you said?" The younger woman paused until Yomikawa looked her way again. "You know, 'better safe than sorry', right?"

"…Maybe. But I can't help but feel something odd is going on."

!~~~~~~~~!

6:38 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District Unknown, Undisclosed Control Centre

The complex display of holographic simulations cast an eerie blue glow over the control centre. There were vertical charts displays walls of data, scrolling text and complex graphs. They wrapped entirely around a floating disk of light, a five meter wide illusion whose top displayed a 1-3000 scale projected model of Academy City, demographics and development colour-coded. [2] These figures were proudly displayed in a separate projection, and at the centre of this light-show was a thin, bearded man.

His fingers danced above a series of non-existent keyboards, fingertips passing through the intangible keys. Nothing in the room appeared solid, aside from the walls and floors. The man himself looked limp and scraggly, like a malnourished senior aged beyond his years. Yet his eyes remained quick.

"Drat. Of all times, for such an interesting cosmological event to occur." He was sole audience to his muttering, words echoing thinly around an otherwise silent chamber. "Input one; my work to instigate Level 6 potential brain patterns through controlled sensory overload had to be entirely recalibrated. Input two; no time to turn my sensors upwards. Output one; I've likely missed all the interesting data and now things are all disrupted. Drat."

Rows and rows of numbers flew up before his eyes; it was quick work to pluck the out of the air and fling them back into the system, information to be fed into massive data-banks. The map of Academy City changed, revealing several hundred points of interest scattered around the city.

"Still, at the very least I am ready again for the night's event. My experiment can go unhindered, whatever time and space may have to say about it." Yet still he paused, and stroked his beard carefully. "…Though perhaps I should be cautious. Input one; I have no idea what caused the temporal event. Input two; what happened once might happen again. Output one; be ready for more. Perhaps I should check that analytical program I prepared…"

A few motions of his hands brought up several lists of raw data, unintelligible computer code. But he instantly halted, shocked.

"What is this? What is this?" He pulled at long segments of data, reaching with his hands into the holographic display to pluck them out. In a new window he compiled them all, writing code with blinding speed. In seconds he had arranged it, and with a rough wave sent the data crashing down into the model of Academy City below like a heavenly thunder-strike.

Eleven new dots appeared on the map. They were spread out in a rough circle over several districts, pulsing orange and spreading further. He studied them a moment, then the chart of reading his software had developed again.

"What is this? Input one; ongoing anomalies in the AIM field? Effects similar to those given off by Gemstones, but not corresponding to any on register… Input two; stronger and somehow distorted. Graviton influences, space-time warps? Input three; all their readings are different, unique, so…? Output…? Output…"

He ran his tongue over his lips, but they remained dry. He was motionless otherwise, not even blinking as he poured over the data, plans forming and shifting in his mind. Eventually he sighed.

"Input one; there is no way I can accurately prepare for tonight with these anomalies disrupting the calculations. Input two; another opportunity will arise for the holographic testing. Input three; there are limited students in Academy City, and even a successful attempt will likely render several thousand operationally useless. Output one; I must merely…"

He paused.

He watched the eleven orange glows slowly moving, deeper into the city.

"No."

His mouth split into a grin.

"No, that is not right. Output zero; that is not the Kihara way." His fingers flew to his holographic keyboard, entering data in first one, then two, then five separate displays. "Input one; I can determine if I can make use of these events. Input two; I doubt any one else has access to the observational data I have…" He chuckled. "Well, save our glorious chairman, of course."

He looked up, eyeing the corners of his vast, empty chamber.

"You are listening, are you not, Aleister? Do you have a better idea of what is going on than I do? I hope not. Input one; I would love to discover something you did not. Input two; keeping secrets from the Kihara Family is a dangerous game, you know."

He thought a moment, performing the logical calculations his brain was attuned to. Kihara Raito was pleased with the result.

"Output one; but this mystery, this makes it all the more fun!" [3]

!~~~~~~~~!

6:45 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 21, on an unnamed wooded Mountain.

"Saten-san, are you sure we should be up here?"

The flowers in her short hair remained in full bloom despite the chill as Uiharu Kazari took a few more tentative steps forward. Their guide, Saten Ruiko, had slowed her initially bold climb up the mountain path to a total stop. The large satchel she had lugged with her now seemed a heavy load.

"Of course! This is absolutely going to be the best place to see the light show, I read about it on a forum! It's be darker and the air's clearer and they also mentioned the possibility of yeti, so that's double the reason to-"

"I believe that Uiharu-san was referring to the legality of this little venture."

Saten Ruiko paused, finally turning in the ankle deep snow to address her companions. She shivered slightly under Shirai Kuroko's investigative gaze, though bundled warmly against the mild Japanese winter. Noting the look of uncertainty on her friend's face, Shirai turned to the fellow off-duty Judgment officer standing easily at her side.

"If she doesn't answer soon, I'll be forced to assume-"

"No, no! I'm sure this a nature trail, people come up here to observe the stars and all that, and it's perfectly fine! It's just…"

"Just what?"

"Well, with all the snow, I'm not sure if we're still on the trail. But I bet we are! And say, how about you just teleport up a bit, see where we are-" Shirai popped out of existence. "-then come back and-" She reappeared. "-tell us where-"

"This way." Saten felt her hand suddenly tugged by the teleporter. She blinked, and the tree-bordered path was gone. It was replaced with a snow-covered clearing, a ridge next to a large rounded building. By the time Shirai reappeared with Uiharu in tow, Saten was already trudging excitedly towards the outpost.

"All right! You found a lodge? This is perfect, we can wait here in comfort!" She wrenched on the door's frozen handle to no avail as Shirai sighed aloud.

"We cannot go inside. And if you look up, you will see it is not a lodge."

Saten followed the Teleporter's point, leaning way back as she actually took in the entirety of the structure. "…Oooooh! It's one of those things. An observatory, right?"

"Yes. Not only can it see to the stars, but it also has an impeccably precise calibration. It can find lost hikers and researchers if they got lost on the mountains as well." Shirai walked forward, pulling her still struggling friend back. "For that reason, it is sometimes utilized by Anti-Skill and Judgment for alpine rescue operations, Saten-san. I've never been part of an operation with it, but it seems unoccupied at the moment."

"I wonder why…" Uiharu approached, a thin frost folding through her breath. "This is a dangerous season for these mountains; wouldn't they want to post at least one agent?"

"Perhaps they are being routed elsewhere. I'm sure Anti-Skill has a good reason." As they nodded to each other, the two judgment officers quickly noticed the locked door's rattling was missing, along with Saten. A quick glance confirmed the girl in question was kneeling at the edge of the ridge overlooking the panoramic glow of Academy City.

"This is perfect! Great work, Shirai! Oh, wow!"

The other girls shared an exasperated look, but soon smiled and joined their more energetic friend by the edge.

"Just look at that magical view! We can see almost half the city! Look, there's Tokiwadai, now where's my school…" Her finger wavered on the horizon a moment, before slowly drooping. "…It's too small…"

"It's all right, Saten-san. Though we're really early, I think you were right; this view is really good!"

"Thanks, Uiharu… Say." She gazed at her friends rosy cheeks a moment. Uiharu watched with concern as her classmate peeled the mitts of her gloves, but was unable to move back in time as Saten darted forward to grasp and squeeze her now blushing cheeks. "How are you looking so warm? Your cheeks aren't even red! How are you not sniffling with a cold? You're always sick!"

"Mwmwmph! P-pheh!" Fighting free, Uiharu took the abuse in stride. '"I-I'm keeping my gloves toasty! See?"

She held up her hands, little expecting how Saten would press her face into them, letting a content smile melting across her face. "Aah… How handy. You're like a dream, Uiharu … If only you were wearing a skirt to flip instead of snow-pants this would be even more perfect."

She was rudely awoken when the comforting hands were pulled away to protect a skirt that wasn't worn. "My t-thermal Hand is NOT strong enough to keep warm like that!"

The girls laughed awhile on the mountain ridge, enjoying the view before the weather forced them to shelter. But soon the mood died.

Though Saten noticed it last, she was first to break the silence.

"…Something's missing, isn't it?"

"Though you were right about the view, I cannot help but feel it lacks the romantic magic. If only my Misaka-sama were here, shivering in the cold, that I might hold her tight…"

Sensing Shirai was lost in a fantasy, Uhiaru turned to her classmate as she stood up from the ledge.

"Where is Misaka-san, by the way?"

The question lit an unexpected fire under Saten. "Good question! I tried to go give her something on Christmas, but she was already gone! If everyone else is mostly back, why isn't she!?"

Even in her delirium, Shirai noticed the problem. "But Saten-san, I thought we all exchanged gifts earlier? What other gift did you have for her?"

"I… That is… To say, it wasn't…Ah-"

She was saved by the sudden fly-by of a supersonic jet.

It came low enough that it rattled the ground, throwing the girls off-balance and triggering rumbling echoes across the peaks that made up Academy City's mountain range. But it was gone in a flash, far faster than Staten could recover to angrily toss a snowball.

"H-hey! Damn airplane! No fly zone!"

"Strange… This is avalanche season." Shirai mused even as she looked about for danger from the peaks still rising above them. "There should be no flight paths here."

"Well, whatever. They're not going to ruin our fire works! Not even that strange time stuff is gonna do that!" Saten's proclamation invigorated the others, so unthinkingly followed her back to the observatory`s door. "Well, get us in! It's getting chilly out here!"

"This is not public property. Unless it's an emergency, I'm not going to use my powers to break in."

"But _come on_ , it'll be an emergency in a while! I'm freezing here!"

"Then I'll take us down the mountain to safety. And it's not that cold."

"Agh, Judgment agents are no fun." Despondent, Saten wilted like a summer flower. But soon her lips curled into a crafty smile. "…Well, at least I've got this."

The others watched with mild interest as their friend set down a number of boxes of pre-packaged food. They watched with mild alarm when she pulled out a large barbecue lighter and held its wavering light aloft.

"Right! Shall we start a fire? I brought stuff for s'mores!"

!~~~~~~~~!

6:58 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 23, Airport, Traffic Control Tower 3.

"…Oh, not again. How many unscheduled flights are we going to have to deal with today?" The blip zooming in on her sophisticated radar spelt nothing but doom, yet the woman at the console tried to make the best of it. "At least this means we've got another plane to reroute out-going flights…

"Technically this has been over three days."

"That's it!" She leapt to her feet as her partner brought the point up for what seemed the millionth time, rounding on the other woman so quickly her office chair nearly rolled across their small tower room. "Don't remind me of terrible details like that! We're not even getting overtime for dealing with all this!"

"It's really only been five hours into our shift, even if the clocks say more like forty." The second traffic controller shrugged, stretching as she patched her headset into the offending plane's radio channel. "Flight HS-18 England, do you read me? You are on-"

The static burst sharply in the confined space, and both women flinched.

"W-what was that? Comm malfunction?"

"No, diagnostics read fine. Flight HS-18? Do you copy? Flight HS-18…?" The second woman frowned, turning back to her partner. "No response. Just static."

"Great. Well, get a link established to its on-board computer, I want to see through its internal cameras. Something is dangerously fishy up there…"

The work progressed smoothly, and in second they had visual feed.

"…It's got no pilot!? And WHY'S it turning around!?" [4]

!~~~~~~~~!

7:03 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 18, The roof of an Experimental Facility.

"I… Think I did that right."

From atop the building where their parachutes lay draped, Mikoto could not quite tell where exactly the plane had gone: or whether it had followed her programmed direction. So fast had it rushed from vision, hopefully back to its home in London.

"It'll be fine. I bet those things have auto-pilot up the wazoo." Though her tail still whipped the rest of Lessar paused mid-stretch of her legs. "…Wazoo isn't a curse in the Lord's eyes, right?"

"I think you are safe, Lessar-san." Itsuwa shrugged the now empty backpack from her shoulder, latching together her spear. Both jerked alert as Mikoto rounded on them quickly.

"Whoa whoa whoa, you can't just whip that out around town! That goes double for your tail!" The other girls shared a look.

"Why, Misaka-san?"

"Got something against tails?"

Mikoto clutched her head, trying to keep from shouting. "…Look, lets keep this investigation stealthy. Who knows what Baker and them are up to. So keep a lower profile."

As the others begrudgingly followed direction the esper turned and sighed, looking out over her domain. The sun had already set, barely a glow on the horizon. The city was dark, and tough cold it felt familiar. In other circumstances, the antics of her new friends and the feeling of home-coming would have brought a smile to her lips.

But instead, all she could focus on was the sour taste on her tongue and the leaden weight in her gut. It took all her willpower to clear her mind and focus.

"From what my friend said, the Dianoid has reappeared. Back in District 12. And I bet that's where we'll find our target."

The other girl's expressions hardened.

"Right, Misaka-san."

"The nun."

Mikoto nodded, letting the familiar winds of Academy City stream through her hair.

"Index Rescue Team… Will definitely succeed."

That, a certain Scientific Railgun swore.

!~~~~~~~~!

10.06 A.M., December 31st: London: St. George's Cathedral: Medical Suite

Then, a certain Imagine Breaker awoke.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **I feel like a broken record, but how's that for an introduction?**

 **With all that out of the way, or are you ready for...**

 **...MORE Enemies ancient and modern?**

 **...A not-so-new setting, which nonetheless is filled with magic and science, characters new and old?**

… **The thrilling conclusion of a love-story gone oh-so-off-the-rails?**

 **...And one very magical New Year's Eve?**

 **If so, buckle up. Because, it's time for...**

 **A Certain Holiday Season, Part 3: New Year's Eve**

 **I hope you'll join me for the first real chapter, coming soon. I hope to see you then!**

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes**_

[0] The dialogue in this bit is meant to sound mumbly, like the person isn't fully enunciating, so forgive any strange grammar constructions. Treat it like a quick exercise in dialect.

[1] This bit was really hard to write. I know very little about Aogami Pierce, in part because I never really paid attention to him, but also because he has been left deliberately vague. Heck, his name literally just means "Blue-hair with piercings" and that's about all we've got. He's a pervert, he's silly, and there just might be something deeper behind an innocently depraved façade. But since I don't know what that might be, this is what you get. He has been 'flanderized' to whatever extreme I found funny enough to include. To whoever requested this way back in the day; I hope this suffices for now.

As for his Kansai accent, the best I can tell is that makes him the Cockney or New Yorker of the Japanese world. I went with that, as far as style goes; English translations aren't likely to sound great in my hands, but if anyone has any advice for his voice I'd love to hear it. This is something I'd be happy to edit.

[2] This is going off the idea mentioned somewhere that Academy City is 1/3 the size of Real World Tokyo, which itself is about 25 km across in diameter. This give an area of about 490 squared km; one third of that is 163 squared km, and solving for the radius of the resulting circle gives 7.2 km. This puts the circle of Academy City at roughly 14.5 kilometers across in total diameter. I left room on the five meter table for a bit of extra space outside the city walls. To be fair, these distances are largely conjecture. It could very well be that Academy City is even bigger than this; I only hope I didn't miss an exact number somewhere in the source material.

[3] I really like making new characters. Bonus points to anyone who gets the naming convention. Close second in for his name was Kihara Terasa, if that helps. I don't perfectly follow the author's rules, but since I don't know Japanese this will have to do.

[4] I was tempted to reference the last time Mikoto hijacked a plane (I believe NT 03, Hawaii Five-O edition), but I couldn't find a good way to segue way it in. I hope by the time this goes up, I've double checked to see whether she needed a pilot that time, but I'm assuming that if so, since then she's decided to brush up on her aeronautics. Or whatever I said back in the Epilogue, it's been a while.


	56. Part 3: Chapter 1

**Whoo! It feels good to finally start putting this story to bed. It's not that I haven't really enjoyed the journey, but there's something exciting about a conclusion you've planned for over a year to finally be on the way. Don't expect regular updates, but they will be begin to come out now. I can only hope what I actually produce lives up to my own expectations. On a side note and minor NT 17 spoiler, I wrote that segment last chapter about the observatory in the mountains many months before the latest NT volume came out and was translated. It is hilarious how close I came to canon truth.**

 **But back to this story, which is, without a doubt, my most ambitious effort yet. Part 1 was stream of consciousness: I had about 10% vague plans and 90% lucky inspiration. Part 2 was maybe 40% mapped in advance; you can judge for yourself how that turned out. This time, I have had to work harder to keep all the various elements organized and visible: the action, the progression, the timing, and of course, the drama. It's going to be a doozy, and I don't know if this means I'm getting better at being an organized writer or if I'm biting off more than I can chew and being lazy as a consequence. Either way, I want to remind my reader again that the characters have shifted from their canon presentations mainly due to their different experiences. By this point, I would argue that all of them, especially our two leads, have become news, even if they remain at their core the same. Please excuse these changes; I hope that they are justified through the adventures of the last two parts.**

 **Whatever may come of it by the end, I pray it satisfies you, my readers. If you're a veteran, thanks for sticking around, and if you're new, welcome aboard.**

 **It's time to begin.**

 **A Certain Holiday Season 3: New Year's Eve**

 **Chapter 1:**

10.04 A.M., December 31st: London: St. George's Cathedral: Medical Suite

 _Where…_

 _...she…?_

… _Where am I?_

A certain boy sat up sharply in a rough cot.

But quickly gasped, collapsing back down as he leaned his weight on an injured hand. He eyed its bandages blearily, pain quickly cutting through the fog of sleep. Soon he was able to take stock of his situation; his clothes were gone, replaced with a simple hospital gown, and he was alone.

Though confused he persevered, pulling for the side of the bed, absolutely certain that there was something worth ignoring the sting of his wound.

"You never learn, do you human?"

He relaxed, somewhat. Touma twisted around more carefully than before, searching for the sardonic voice until he found the culprit. She balanced haughtily, perched with a lean on top and against his IV stand, whose thin cord trickled into his healthy arm.

He followed it with his eyes for a moment before looking back up at her, grateful for the familiar face if nothing else. "Othi…? Where?" He cast about the room. "Not in Academy City... I'd recognize any hospital room there."

"No, we are still in St. George's. Now, are you ready?" She dropped down from her perch, letting his thin pillow break her fall.

"Wait, hold on." He brought his good hand to his forehead, fighting the room's sudden spin. "Why? Didn't they kick me… Wait, what about-"

"Be patient, patient. I will recapitulate, if you will give me the time."

Slowly, Touma nodded, but then scratched his nose. "Sure, but don't you want some privacy for that?" [1]

"…I will clarify. Is that better?" As he nodded again, she carried on. "You fought with Miss Baker, but she escaped. Your allies are safe, though tired; an unknown saviour caught them all and returned them safely to the ground. You then chased down and assisted in the capture of the criminals as hired by the businesswoman, and were injured. You were returned here, where en-route it was discovered that the nun was taken prisoner by Miss Baker. They have all since returned to Academy City. That should satisfy most of your concerns."

Touma sat silently on the bed, absorbing the information slower than it came in. Most rang true, but at the final detail he bolted from the bed.

"Wait, again!? But the streak's been so long since someone has tried to kidnap her, I thought we were done with that! Damn it, we've got to go!" But as he tried and failed to disengage his legs from the bed's thin sheets, he was forced to stop or risk dumping Othinus to the floor. She crouched on his right knee, holding up one hand.

"I assumed as much. I was informed by the medical practitioner that you should not move until you have been checked over, and then flown to Academy City for proper treatment and several days bed-rest. I assured her I would convince you to stay; they implied it was rather important."

The two locked eyes a moment. She rolled hers.

"…So naturally we leave with all haste. Get up."

"Right. Anyone outside?" He stumbled when his feet hit the floor, but soon he was mobile, carefully prying at his IV drip.

"No. From what I observed, they are short staffed and dealing with a moderate crisis." Othinus eyed him from the bed before leaping to his back, scrambling up to his shoulder. "And should you be removing that?"

"Hmmm? Oh, yeah, it's nearly empty anyway, and they did a clean insertion. I've done this before: just shut the drip off at the roller clamp, remove the taping, and then cover with a sterile bandage." [2] He performed the steps faster than he described them, holding his arm up for inspection. "See? Simple. Kamijou-san knows this much, at least."

"I suppose you and medical supplies are well acquainted."

Touma nodded, but paused before opening the door to the hall outside. "But, wait. Anything you describe as a 'moderate crisis' must two steps from an apocalypse. What happened while I was out?"

"It is December 31st, due to-"

"I slept that long!?"

"Let me finish, human. It was the result of a temporal distortion of substantial breadth. From what I could observe in this limited form the entire planet shifted forward in time, nearly to the 4th of January, and then shifted back again to the present time."

"…I want to think you're playing a joke, but I know my luck is worse than that. Such misfortune…"

"Quietly quit your melodrama. Listen." She pulled at his ear and he glumly obeyed. "You know that I am incapable of magic as a fairy but I still retain significant observational skills. I can tell you that the Earth's magical alignment in time has been shifted. Entirely. If I were still a full Magic God I could fix it on a whim or tell you the outcome, but in this diminished state I can only suggest that it is not good."

"Great."

"However; this is not the work of a Magic God."

"I feel like crying for joy! …But the way you say that makes me tremble instead. Please let this be good news."

"It's not. To begin, it seems to have affected you. Though since it the effect seems constrained to the Earth's position and has not apparently aged any individual humans, I am not certain what that means. Everyone is aware of the change, so perhaps it just does not target humans, but only the celestial spheres... Beyond that, I cannot describe to you the particulars; it requires math and philosophy you lack. Let me simply say this is not just the work of phases and layers of reality. It seems almost like something fundamental is being altered. Do you understand?"

It took Touma a second to follow. He remembered, though his head ached at the thought, his lifetime of Hell in the many realities she had created for him. All in pursuit of something fundamental.

"…So you-"

"No." She punched his cheek, but lightly, not breaking eye contact as he rubbed it reflexively. "I do not harbour any false hopes. This is not about me, returning to my world and past. It never will be. This is my fate, and I willingly abide by it. Aside from the cat." He could feel her shaking her head beside him, as small a motion as it was. "I just thought you should know how unique this is. In all my memory, _this is more than just unusual._ "

Hearing those words from a Magic God were just about all Touma could bear. He grunted noncommittally and stepped out into the Cathedral proper.

As promised it was empty. There was the distant sound of scurrying feet and shouted voices, but none so nearby they would notice a young patient stealing about the night-time halls.

"They will likely check on you soon. We should make our escape quickly, and procure travel to Academy City. I suggest the airport."

"Gotcha. I'll hurry."

He was true to his word, rounding each corner with greatest speed his need for stealth could afford. The few Necessarius staffers he saw were far too busy to pay any mind to the soft padding of his bare feet. Soon he reached a stairway, and made his descent.

"I hope you are not so addled that you have forgotten the layout of this facility. Outdoors is back up that way."

"Don't worry, Othi-chan. We'll be quick. I've just got a few pit-stops to make."

Or so he promised. But instead, once he had navigated St. George's basement tunnels, he found himself knocking on a certain door for far long than expected.

His annoyance quickly turned to concern as he rapped one more time on the oaken construction. "…Where the heck is she? I wanted to make sure… I really have to talk with her. Right now." His tapping foot jogged the tiny Magic-God drowsing on the shoulder, and she snuffled awake. "Hey, why are you tired? You weren't running around all night."

"My pathetically mortal biological clock is still convinced it is early in the morning. Now, can we progress?"

"Not until I check in with… The others, and make sure everything is okay. Say, hold on. Don't you sleep in there? You have a key, right?"

She gestured broadly at her furry feline body. "Obviously not. And before you ask, I have not spoken with my roommates. Perhaps they are upstairs with the others, planning a counter move to Baker's latest gambit."

He took one slow step back from the door, before turning and continuing his jog. "…Yeah. This is probably for the best anyway. Maybe my luck is actually turning." He couldn't help but grin, though the precise reasons why remained nebulous, hard to think about, escaping his grasp. They tickled at his fingertips, soft and warm and just out of reach.

"How wonderful for you. However…" She tugged on his earlobe, with increasing viciousness as he refused it listen. "…You are still going the wrong direction."

"One last stop, I promise. And you'll appreciate it too, it's better than riding on my shoulder. There's something I've forgotten." _And won't again._

His path took him further into the underground, and down a set of spiralling stairs that abutted a small, side hallway. The door at the end opened with a familiar haunted creak, and he pushed into his room.

"There you are." For the first time since he woke this morning, Othinus observed a smile on his lips. "Don't think I forgot about you again, comfy-jacket-san. Now, time to go get…" He swept over to it, clutched it like a long lost lover. But something spun free, tinkling as it spun on his stone floor. "...Eh?"

"Oh. Good, you were correct." Othinus leapt from his shoulder to his now empty bed as the boy knelt down. "Put it on. I wish to ride in comfort." She waited with growing impatience, as he remained crouched. Finally she stepped over to lean over the edge. "…Why do you delay? We must…"

And so she saw what he did; lying on his floor, casually discarded, was a Gekota brooch.

!~~~~~~~~!

7:14 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, Former Dianoid Building Grounds, District 12

"There's no one here!?"

"…No, Lessar-san, there's nothing." Itsuwa stood up from her now defunct magic circle, not distracted as Lessar tromp through snowbanks behind her. The spell had been hastily assembled from discarded tools and scattered scrap, an improvisatory specialty of the Amakusan's. "If there was any one performing magic or otherwise imbued with a strong magical aura, this would at least tell us there were nearby. Index-san would certainly show up, but there is nothing I can see."

"Dang it all! We need an actual lead here! This is useless."

"Perhaps we could enter the Dianoid and 'snoop' around? They may have left some magical traces inside that I am unable to detect from here."

"Good enough for me. Hey, es-"

"You both do that. I'll stay here."

The two magicians in question paused, twisting to look to Mikoto. She was where they had left her several minutes ago, quietly standing in the centre of the now abandoned Dianoid's front walk. Her newest phone glowed brightly in her hands as it perused data leeched from every network she could access. [3]

Itsuwa's expression grew troubled and she turned back to Lessar. The New Light magician scrutinized the esper through squinted eyes, but soon nodded curtly. Emboldened, Itsuwa turned back and called out to their friend.

"…Uhm. Misaka-san, what are you doing?"

The esper waved a hand casually over her shoulder, as if to lighten the mood. "Just reviewing the video feed from nearby surveillance systems after the Dianoid reappeared. It's, ah… I've got a mapping program I borrowed and adapted from a friend, so hopefully I can figure out where Baker and her summons are going from data points around Academy City. It'll take a while to calculate: you know, computers. The reception's better out here too, so I'll come get you two if I find something first. Go on in and try magic stuff or whatever."

Lessar nodded knowingly, nudging Itsuwa. The Amakusan magician quickly reached into her pockets before kneeling again, laying out another simple spell as her partner stalled.

"…Sure. Maybe we can make it some kind of a contest, to make us work faster. How about that, does that work for you? Then we can go and find her. Come inside and shout if you find something, we'll come out here and get you if we do."

"Yeah, yeah, good luck…"

They stood behind the esper for a moment, but eventually walked away.

Mikoto waited, eyes glued to her screen as she faced the road out front. She listened as their footsteps passed somewhere behind her, moving towards Only part of her focus and power could be distracted from her phone so she relied on her natural ears. But soon all was silent but for the beeping of her phone, its program finally finished. A few cars motored by ahead of her, their sound oddly muffled and distorted.

But the esper paid the oddity no mind, nor was she surprised at her task's completion. Instead she huffed, annoyed as she began to walk forward. _Only one certain location? At least_ _it's a start_. She shook her head, beginning the patient work of disconnecting her mind from the many networks filling Academy City, snow crunching as she trudged ahead. "Time to go I guess. Sorry, but-"

Two hands firmly grasped her shoulders.

"-!?" Squeaking alarm, senses failing her utterly, it took all the presence of mind Mikoto had to not fry her two well-intentioned captors. Lessar and Itsuwa fought against the esper's weakening efforts to pull away, spinning her around once she had finally stilled.

Itsuwa spoke, oddly contrite. "Sorry, Misaka-san... But we really don't want you to leave us behind this time!"

"H-how? I heard you both…" Eyes wide and heart still racing, she watched as Itsuwa pointed demurely back several feet behind her, to scattered ring of miscellaneous junk.

"I created a small magic circle, which I can use in a spell to manipulate basic sensory perceptions in a small area." Itsuwa brightly explained her magic, her hands tracing a broad curve in the air. "I can control many effects within a sphere around the circle I drew, like altering sight lines. In this case I made it contain us, but not you, but also inverted the sources of sound within it. Any sound within going out would seem like it was coming from the opposite direction. It sounded like we were walking away, but instead-

"We were getting closer to a certain stinking esper." Lessar leaned in with predatory intent. "What've ya got to say for yourself?"

Mikoto chuckled lightly, avoiding Lessar's questing gaze as she began to inch back. "Oh, well! T-that's very clever! I wondered, I mean was wondering, what could ever fool me, number 3 of the level 5s!? Ahahaha-Ack!?"

"Not getting off the hook that easy, sister!" Lessar swung herself forward, flinging around to hang heavily off the esper's back. "What the heck do you think you were up to? Ditching us like third and fourth wheels!?"

"I have… No idea what you mean."

Together, Itsuwa and Lessar sighed.

"W-what? What was that for!?"

"Nothing, esper. Come on, you've got a lead? What's that I see on your phone?"

Mikoto frowned, but finally was forced to relent. "…It looks like several people left the Dianoid at just after six. They spread out everywhere, some faster than others; the only one slow enough to track or otherwise not cloaked from local security systems went this way." Reluctantly Mikoto's finger highlighted the path.

"That's great work, Misaka-san! Where is our new destination?"

"It looks like District 13, but I don't have an exact area pinpointed yet. I hope I can get more data the closer I get; these guys should stand out. For now, we go that way. Now, let go already!" Anxious to get a move on Mikoto tried to shift Lessar from her shoulders, forced to watch Itsuwa set out ahead.

But the fiery girl clinging to her back refused to let go, soon calling back out to the departing magician.

"Say, wait, get back here! …Hold the phone... Something is-" Lessar paused as Itsuwa returned, reaching over to pluck the phone from the hands of a puzzled Mikoto. Rolling her eyes, the New Light magician undid the theft with her tail, poking at the screen instead. "No, not literally. Look. Am I counting this right?"

Itsuwa peered closely at the glowing screen to divine understanding from the unfamiliar technology. "…Oh, I see. Lessar-san, does that imply…?"

"Yeah. That's eleven little blips. Doesn't that seem like a lot?"

"Maybe. What does it matter?" Mikoto's shrug finally dislodged Lessar, but her efforts to press ahead were blocked yet again.

"Wait! Misaka-san, Miss Baker was only supposed to be able to summon one additional ally per night of her spell. And from the reports I heard we already defeated at least four of the ones she had created in London."

"Well, isn't it technically the 31st or something? I heard all this strange stuff happened once I got you all inside." Desperate to avoid dwelling on the matter, Mikoto pushed past the magicians. "Now, can we leave?"

"Still, that's too many summons! And there are only 12 Days of Christmas, so-"

"Let's talk on the way. We're losing time, come'on!"

With a burst of magnetic acceleration, Mikoto was off, bounding down an alley way cluttered with hastily pile garbage bags. To her mild chagrin, she was soon followed.

"You're in a hurry, aren'tcha Esper?" Lessar bounded to the girl's side keeping easy pace, and after some hesitation Mikoto slowed from her initial burst of speed.

"Yeah. And not because I'm trying to… P-push on ahead. Really! Don't snort at me like that! It's because…"

"Misaka-san, what exactly is wrong?"

"…School District 13. It holds nearly all the Kindergarten and Elementary students of Academy City. That's why I'm worried."

"Oh!" Itsuwa sudden alarm propelled her to the head of the small pack. "Small children!? We must go and stop this fiend!"

"Yeah." _And I can get some answers_.

The trio carried on, following Mikoto's occasional directions to weave their way through the back alleys of District 9 into District 13. It was easy to ignore the chill of night as they raced towards their destination, and soon enough the buildings changed from tall office blocks and to small, flatter educational facilities, brightly lit in pastel colours. The streets themselves seemed more welcoming, but also on a slightly smaller scale; it was a world built for the ease of children.

Such effect did little to calm Mikoto as she led them down a few sharp turns, following updates pinging on her phone. But abruptly they ended, all signs pointing to a single destination.

"Great… Learning Core. Again." [4]

Mikoto's quiet muttering was not quite quiet enough. "Misaka-san? Have you located our target?"

"Yeah. Looks like it's just up ahead. See that big spire up ahead?"

The other two followed the point of her finger and nodded.

"That big thing? Good enough for me." Their destination in sight, all three girls gradually slowed, coming up the front gate. But when they got closer Lessar froze, her tail stiffening; one hand whipped to pinch her nose shut and she recoiled in horror. "What's with that nasty smell?"

"There's a zoo attached, we're near that entrance. The Learning Core has all sorts of stuff, like a museum, aquarium, a planetarium, stuff like…" Mikoto's distracted answer trailed off. "…Ah. Found it. It took a detour to the museum first, but whatever we're chasing did end up stopping in the zoo."

"Of course it has. Ew." Despite her complaints, Lessar followed after the others. When she caught up to Itsuwa, the other girl turned to look back.

"Do you not like animals, Lessar-san?"

"Not the smelly ones. Give me something cute."

"Hey, keep it down." They nearly ran into Mikoto's back as she suddenly stopped outside a large stable, thick wood painted pink and yellow. She examined the broken lock of its large front double door, snapped clean in half, while one side hung slightly ajar. Animal sound echoed out from within, disturbed by something. "Look like it's just in there. Let's do some recon."

The three girls peered around the open door into the darkness within.

Inside the animals had been awakened from their slumber. A few pigs snorted, and a couple of sheep bleated. But the most noise came from the main attraction, housed in a number of large stalls against the far wall. There, nearly a dozen horses whinnied loudly, bucking against their stalls as a short man passed each one in turn, humming slowly to himself. There was just enough light to see his slick black hair, tied in a neat knot that bobbed above his head, but the rest of his body was lost in shadow.

The three girls fell back, retreating to whisper.

"That's not right. Why'd my phone…"

"Is that not just some caretaker?"

"Are you sure you got this right, esper? He's like, four feet tall."

"Yes! Now, hold on…"

They returned to the door, just in time to catch his guttural muttering.

"No. Not good enough. Never an equal…" The man moved on to the next horse, stepping into a broader beam of light. When he did, the painted iron plates that covered his every limb clanged together lightly. The better view revealed how his entire body was adorned in ornamental armour, a set of painted leather that looked suspiciously neat to Mikoto's eyes. She quickly understood.

"…So that's why the museum's alarms were going off…" _But why would he steal that?_ She had little time to ponder as she was forced from her vantage point by the others, each straining for a look.

"That man is not an animal caretaker." Itsuwa's tone grew harsh as she frowned. "They seem surprised by his presence unlike they would be by a familiar handler. But, is he really the enemy? I do not recognize him…"

"I… Feel like I do. His hairdo... But I don't know… Where from." Lessar's voice wavered as her indecision grew. "And what's he even doing to that horse? Something around it's face?"

"Animal cruelty!? The last straw!" [5] Heedless of the others Itsuwa charged through the double doors, swinging them open with her newly assembled spear. "Stop right there!"

"Hmmm?"

The man paused, plates of leather rustling as he slowly spun to the stable's entrance. He lowered his hand as he faced the girls, letting his simple unused harness dangle.

"…It's a bridle." Itsuwa let the tip of her spear drop. "That is not cruel at all, is it?"

"Who is there? Oh. It is as she said." His voice was unexpectedly soft, coming through a smile that seemed both firm and cruel. "Hah… Ahahahaha… I did not have so long to wait after all. NOW!" The girls jumped at his sudden booming shout. It knocked dust from the rafters and set the animals to pandemonium as he began to stride forth. "Fear now, weaklings! Come out of the light and face me where I can see you! You stand before your death! For I am the mighty…?"

He had finally moved forward far enough to see the hastily assembled Index Rescue Squad, crouched in combat stances. The smile on his faced vanished.

"…Three children? And girls, at that? Bah." He spat, pivoting on his heel as his armour rustled. "I was mistaken. Run home."

"Esper, Itsuwa. Am I seeing that right? He's like 4 feet tall."

The man stopped.

"I mean, what the heck is this? The last guy we fought was like, a basketball player, but this guy here's barely the ball. I must have been wrong, there no way-"

Still turned the man interrupted her.

"I sense you are insulting me. It is not wise for the gnat to bother the lion."

"Great, now you've done… It?" But Mikoto's initial guess was wrong. The sound she had heard was not her magician friend springing forward to avenge the insult. It was instead the sound of her tail whipping around her waist, hugging herself protectively. "…Lessar?"

"W-why does that voice give me the chills…? There's something about the way… Where do I know this guy!? Dang it, brain, figure it out!"

The man turned again, and Lessar flinched. "I am normally glad to be recognized, but this is pitiful. What foreign land have I been reborn into, that all do not tremble at my passing? What time? How has my face been forgotten?" He gazed around the stable once more, before shrugging. "No matter. Just as China knew my strength, so too will this land. And you; do not think children are safe from my wrath."

 _Enough for me. He's no stable manager._ "Where's Index?"

"Who?" He turned, staring down the girls. And suddenly in his left hand appeared a massive halberd, easily three times his height, its broad-headed blade of brass affixed firmly on the end of a thick oaken pole.

"A summoning spell. Hmm." Itsuwa maintained her stoicism, though the grip on her own dwarfed weapon tightened.

"H-holy crap!" _Where was he keeping that thing!? It must weigh more than he does!_ And yet despite Mikoto's eyes and firm grasp of physics, he levelled it with ease. But even he eyed it with suspicion.

"This is no Sky-Piercer, but it will do. Gah, if only I had Red Hare! Then it wouldn't matter." Lessar twitched again, but Mikoto could not spare the magician a glance. _I don't like this._ "Now, little girls. If you drop to your knees now and beg for forgiveness, I will spare you for your impudence. I am in no mood for weaklings."

"…W-whoa. Wait. Hold on. Red Hare? Time out. Esper. Esper!"

"W-what is it?" Mikoto's sparks were already flaring, but she let them subside at Lessar's insistence. "Is this a good time?"

"I… Think I recognize… Oh God. It can't REALLY be him."

"Who!? Spit it out!"

"He's killed me, like, a hundred times. But in the games, he's always… Bigger."

 _…Games?_

"Hah." The man laughed, stomping the butt of his weapon's haft against the dirt. "I do not know exactly what you mean, but my enemies always enjoyed claiming I am a monster of a man. It made it easier to stomach their defeat. But I am certain I have never fought so small a girl as you."

"…Lessar! Who the heck is this!?"

The magician swallowed and began to speak with a low voice. Even Itsuwa turned towards her, though her own pitifully small spear remained ready.

"There's an old saying… I-I think it goes…" Lessar swallowed once more. "Among horses, Red Hare. And among men…"

"That is right, little girl. You face Lu Bu." [6]

!~~~~~~~~!

10.18 A.M., December 31st: London: St. George's Cathedral: A Certain Boy's Guest Chamber[7]

"I grow tired of waiting, human. Explain already."

There was still no response. But finally Touma stood and faced away, slinging his jacket over his shoulder.

"…Sorry. We're good. Hop in." He waited, but no motion came, no scrabbling paws up his back. He didn't turn as he flipped his hood open more invitingly. "Well? What happened to being in a hurry?"

"Stop hiding it, human."

"I'm not hiding anything."

"Yes you are. If you were not hiding something you would have been confused at the very idea. It is not in your nature to understand so quickly." He didn't flinch at her words but still she paused, almost as if a God could feel concern. "…You know I will find out soon; we understand each other too well. Just tell me already so that we may get this confessional over with."

He was silent again. But it was growing harder and harder to not think about it.

"…Damn it."

It began to trickle out. Not a steady stream; just the snippets of his own misfortune that he could bear to think about. Trickling through the iron wall that was his will, leaking out through a gap he had not discovered until too late. His desperate efforts to patch it up, to return to how things were, each failed one after another.

"I thought… I thought I'd maybe... Just for one moment..."

As he murmured he realized just how tired he was, and how much better it felt to crouch, to curl up to his knees, to rest his back against his bed.

"Sorry. I'm a little tired."

Tired from his adventures but more so tired _of_ his adventures, of the consequences, of the glimpses of something better. Something that even at his best he could hardly comprehend and had gotten close to, had begun to expect and cherish but now had been snatched away, like the universe had recognized a glitch and worked to quickly snuff out the luck and joy and hope he never should have had.

"… N-no, it's still not right, but… I wanted…"

There was nothing else for it. His usual reactions, coping methods, the logic of pessimism and the desire to help; for once in his life, there seemed to be no easy way out, now way to rationalize an answer or response, no way to just take the distance and move on. He felt adrift in something new, threatening to shake him to his core, only to have it cruelly striped away, to leave him empty. Hollow.

"If I… What did she…? What did she mean...?"

Even without saying it, the name was different in his mind. Once, it had provoked confusion and terror. Then, it was confusion and annoyance. Eventually, confusion and familiarity. But now, all that remained was confusion. And perhaps a touch of hurt.

But that could not do. So he grasped for the one thing he could still complain about.

"Gah… And w-why didn't she listen!?" Touma fell from his crouch to his rear, sitting heavily on the floor, running his hand furiously through his hair. "Aaagggh, didn't she get what I meant!? About the worrying!? If she wants to hurt me that much why would she…" He was wrong; it was too painful to complain about, even that much; he had to squeeze his eyes shut until he saw stars. "Both of them, now… Damn it damn it damn-"

"Cut it out!"

The emotional cry cut through him like a knife.

"Stop acting like that! I don't want to see you like this again! Stop!"

He became dimly aware some small had leapt onto his shoulders and was leaning against his head, pounding with tiny fists to hammer her point home.

Her blows weakened when his hand reached up and pressed lightly on her back.

The moment passed quietly.

"…Sorry, Othi-chan. It's not about that, back then. I promise."

"Do not apologize. Just tell me."

It was not so easy as that. But finally, he had an answer. "I think I made a mistake."

"I do not follow what you mean. What are you referring to, human? Explain to me."

He still refused to look up, but murmured a reply.

"When I heard Index was taken, I… Could tell she was thinking Index being kidnapped was her fault. Saw it on her face." He gestured lamely. "Which is why before I passed out, I told her 'don't go after Index,' but she didn't…!" He fought back the urge to tousle his hair, instead gingerly picking up the brooch. He turned it over in his hands as Othinus struggled to see.

"And what makes you so certain she has disobeyed your instructions? I have not corroborated that knowledge."

"Why else would she… And she's gone. She's never like that." He held the brooch up to his face, remembering the chain of events in the Dianoid that had allowed Mikoto's friend to buy it on his behalf. _Yet here it sits in my hand._ "Did… She even wear it, I wonder?"

"Wear? Why in my name would that matter…" The Magic God finally turned her face, from where she had it pressed up against his own, and examined the gift. When she did, she froze. Then softly sighed. "Ah."

Touma was silent.

"Foolish, foolish humans. I think I understand enough now, but there is more I must know. Confess your sins. Tell me what you did."

Touma remained silent.

"It will be faster than me observing you for the next few hours and piecing the puzzle together on my own from your facial ticks."

"I… Asked her… To help keep an eye on Index. We both know this wasn't what I meant, but I know her pretty well. Should have expected this, my fault, really…" He rubbed the back of his head, unwilling to meet Othinus' gaze. "That's why I tried to stop her, when I was hurt and just found out, from thinking she had to… I would, should, be the one… Not-"

"But whatever you said, we both know she was not likely to listen. So you feel guilty. Is that what we shall pretend is bothering you most?"

He winced. "N-not known for your subtlety…"

"There is little to say." Othinus shrugged her tiny shoulders. "When you are used to having a large bludgeoning instrument…" Touma wondered at her pause. "...Never-mind that. The point is that you must act. Nothing changes that, does it?"

"…Yeah, you're right. Let's just go." But as he knelt and let the tiny Magic God leap onto his shoulder, he faltered. "Wait. How do you know her that well? You-"

"I have spoken with her."

"…Really? When?"

"We have lives beyond the orbit of your own, you egotistical teenage buffoon. Regardless, I have spoken with her. She is surprisingly similar to you; at least, as similar as one can be to a human so flawed as yourself."

"…G-gee, thanks…?"

"Quiet. My point is that this was an expected outcome. I will even wager the others followed her."

"Others?" He finally turned towards his charge, puzzling out her meaning. "Who…?"

"My roomates."

"…Oh."

His flat tone was unusual. Enough so that Othinus expressed her worry as much by taking firm hold of his cheek and attempting to drag his face to hers. By the time she succeeded his skin was pinched red, and he frowned as he pulled away sullenly.

"What?"

"You. You are what. What causes this angst? Had I known it was this easy to break you, we would not even be here."

"You did try this. At least a thousand times, maybe two. This is just different, more real. I'm just… Getting really tired of people I know getting involved in stuff like this. If I had just finished this all then and there, in the Dianoid, then-"

"You failed to. Get over it."

Such a blunt statement was unusually cynical, even for his Magic God. But when Touma glared at her with a comically morose expression, his attempt at humour faded upon noticing her discomfort. Especially when she was able to continue.

"Even with all this time distortion, the past remains the past. The question becomes what we choose for the future. I know you are not going just sit here and ruminate on your failures and weaknesses. If that was the case you would not be needing remedial lessons in school. So, get up already."

"Yeah, I get it. I just wanted a minute, give Kamijou-san a break." The brooch slid uneasily into his pocket as he stood. He shook his head, trying to clear out the scattered memories that cried for his attention. "… And I thought I was confused before…."

"I will ask you to explain later."

"I wasn't planning on volunteering."

"And I was merely announcing my intent."

They continued back up the stairs in silence. If the Cathedral proper was sparsely populated, the tunnels were downright deserted.

"I see you have decided there is no longer a need for stealth."

"H-hmm?"

"Or perhaps you just have too many thoughts on your mind, and so have forgotten. Say, at least one more than zero."

He turned back towards the proper path, having nearly passed by the final set of stairs to ground level. "I'm paying attention, I swear."

"Perhaps, rather than dwell on whatever it is you seem unable to avoid dwelling upon, you should merely focus on your goals."

"...Guess that'd be what makes me happy."

"So protecting the happiness of everyone that you care about."

"…Right." _When did that get so complicated?_ Despite his mood, Touma attempted a chuckle. "You know, when you sit on my shoulder and try to give me advice, you remind me of something."

Othinus nodded. "Huginn and Muninn, Odin's raven guides. An impressively apt reference. Have you…?" She examined his face before quickly sighing. "I see I presumed too much knowledge on your part again. It has been a while since I have proven so gullible. My mistake."

"I-I was thinking more like those cartoons, where your conscience looks like an angel or a devil. You know, temptation and all that." _…And boy, I could really use some guidance right now. Maybe even divine inspiration._

"You are being foolish again, human, for I am neither." She ducked back into his hood as he paused at the door topping the stairs, listening for patrolling footsteps. "After all, I remain a God."

The coast was clear; the last few hallways were quickly crossed. The door outside was unbarred. The cool air was crisply refreshing, despite the coat he wore. For some reason it was not quite as warm as he remembered it.

But he set off regardless, trying to ignore how his hand throbbed. It pulsed painfully, like a wounded animal, ungrateful for its bandage binding. He had to fight the urge to peel it away.

"Leaving so soon?"

The sultry, silky smooth voice stopped him dead. The morning was already bright, the streets beginning to crowd; there were many conversations around him. It would not be surprising that one might sound louder than the others, and that he might wrongfully think it was addressed to him.

But the voice was unmistakable, as was the cruel, dry inflection it carried.

So he turned to face the woman, his face kept carefully neutral.

"Or just running away again… Is that it, Kamijou-kun?" The Archbishop smiled. "Or should I say, Imagine Breaker?"

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] I won't lie; I tried to figure out if there was a mishearing for this line that would also make sense in Japanese. But you'd be amazed how few resources there are for someone trying to make inter-lingual puns. A shame! And yet, I sense a business opportunity…

What I did find was that most Japanese puns are just repeated syllables that mean different things like, "a hoarse horse" or, "be patient, patient", and not things like, "she had a photographic memory but never developed it." Culture sure is interesting, isn't it? So I just made the pun Japanese in style because I felt like. Touma's misunderstanding of recapitulate is just potty humour.

[2] My favourite way to balance Touma's moments of idiocy is to acknowledge his knowledge when it is relevant. He doesn't know first aid from what I know, but he likely has dealt with his own injuries enough. If anyone knows how to remove a cast with just a pipe cleaner and some chewing gum, it's probably him.

[3] I am relatively certain that I never explained back in Part 2 how Mikoto got yet another new phone. I'm pretty sure it got trashed somewhere on Day 4, maybe Day 3. Either way, after they defeated the Shark the first time and returned for Touma's jacket, Mikoto demanded a quick detour to get a new model. It wouldn't be AC level, but it's better than nothing.

[4] The site of the gathering of heroes from NT 7. All the known level 5's were there; it's from the book about Agitate Halation, a concept which I still can only vaguely understand as narrative pseudo-science. The Learning Core is not just the building itself, but the theme park like area outside where the battles were. There are many educational attractions, ranging from libraries to a museum to a zoo. This is all canon, or at least I am pretty sure.

[5] I feel this is the kind of person Itsuwa would be, should we ever learn more of her character (cough not likely damn it cough). She's the best example of just a pure and sweet girl the Magic Side has. But this may be over-analyzing; either way, it's a convenient tool of plot progression.

[6] This is one of the mysterious characters I figured some people might know of, but would not guess from my depiction. I take even more liberties from the historical record than normal here by making him short: luckily no accurate physical description of him actually exists. But you will see why. If you're not familiar with the Romance of the Three Kingdoms (Which is where I know him from; I actually have a physical translation of the original books! I love history.) or, more likely, Dynasty Warriors, I suggest checking out Lu Bu's "Badass of the Week" page. It's a reasonable summary.

[7] For the confused, Mikoto and Touma's experiences are happening more or less concurrently, or starting up when the other ends (it depends on context. If it seems like events happened with one character that you don't get shown, assume it happened while with the other character). Just remember that time zones exist, and don't read too much into the dates. If you really want to know, work with Mikoto's time stamps by the hour; they are more useful to get a sense of what important is coming up. It should be clear by now what time THAT might be. I can only do this trick so long until it become passé, but so help me! I'll take it for one last spin.

[8] One last point. Characters may be acting out of character. If you read the end of NT 16 and all of NT 17, you have seen one way that it was resolved. Give me at least a bit of time. And remember, given that Touma in particular is facing a situation somewhat similar to Othinus' Hell, he could have a disproportionate reaction. Trust them: they figure it out.


	57. Part 3: Chapter 2

**What kind of holiday story would this be if I didn't update on Christmas!?**

 **That said, I hope people are having a nice holiday season, or if that is not your thing, a generally good time either way.**

 **Chapter 2:**

10.21 A.M., December 31st: London: Sidewalk outside St. George's Cathedral

He tried to pass of his growing discomfort with an awkward chuckle. "You know there's a teenage boy attached to the hand, right? I'm more than just a strange, unlucky hand."

"Oh, really? You seem to rely on it an awful lot. Imagine Breaker."

He stared blankly.

She only smiled. Then sighed, content.

"Do you feel tense, Imagine Breaker? You don't look very happy. I know how it feels." She tilted her head with beautiful charm. "I do so enjoy this feeling. Like dancing on razor blades, where your decisions mean everything. How delightful."

Touma felt those blades. Nothing was abnormal about the crisp morning air as the two stared each other down, standing like the slightest movement would be their last. The pedestrians walking by sensed nothing but for the boy, the woman, and the Magic-God, it was palpable. Yet even so, even though he believed she clearly felt it as well, the Archbishop remained smiling, smiling like a predator in her natural element. _She'd done nothing, hasn't even made a threat yet. So why do I feel like I'm in the middle of a war-zone!?_

He realized his hands were aching. Glancing down, they were white knuckled. Glacier-slow he forced them open.

 _...Even so, I've got no time for this._ "Is there something you want? I'm leaving, after all. Like you said to." Touma felt the temptation to shrug, but he wasn't sure how genuine a motion it would be. Not the way his fingers wanted so badly to clench again.

"While I could make a case that you are several days late, that is neither now nor then." [1] The Archbishop kept her gaze fixed on him, not bothering to hide how she studied his reactions. "What matters is that, aside from one small detail, my arrangements succeeded perfectly. I have removed the problem from my country, and seen that the appropriate forces will converge to resolve the issue. In short, I have what I wanted. Save one thing. But, few plans are flawless."

At first he was confused. "...You mean how you let Index get kidnapped?"

"That would be what I mean, yes. A regrettable and dangerous outcome, wouldn't you say?"

Still, neither moved. Not as cars drove by, nor as the wind blew.

"And now you're going to tell me to go after her? You don't have to bother." Touma gave her one last dry look before turning away. "No matter how annoyed I get with you guys, I don't need a reason to-"

"I will not be giving you a reason. I will be giving you an apology."

!~~~~~~~~!

7:21 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, The Learning Core, District 13

 _Where… Have I heard that name before?_ "Great, I guess. You're somebody. Now where's Index? Or am I going to have to make you take me to her?"

The short man did nothing aside from scratching his ear, his casual indifference rubbing Mikoto the wrong way.

"Lessar-san, who exactly is this Lu Bu?" Itsuwa's interest was innocence personified.

"Insolent wench!" Yet it was enough to enrage their opponent. "Allow me to show you."

Without further warning he sprang forward, loping in long quick bounds toward the girls.

His surprise attack failed as all three girls fell back together, too cautious to engage.

But his speed proved deceptive, and Itsuwa dug into a hasty defence as he came close. She raised her spear, angling to catch and push aside any attack his oversized halberd might make.

Yet just as he committed to a swing, and she reacted accordingly, the man pivoted.

On one foot, and despite his delicate frame, he and his huge weapon were suddenly not where she expected. A brief look of shock was all Itsuwa had time for as he slid beside her, darting lightly past her own spear, bashing the blunt end of his staff into her stomach.

But it was slowed to far less than a hammer blow. Another pole-arm, the Steel Glove held by Lessar, had caught his weapons haft and was holding it fast as Itsuwa tumbled clear. Lessar grinned as Lu Bu mildly turned his head.

"Psych! I'm not scared of a video game character! And now I've-!?" Whatever boast she had planned to make was interrupted when he tugged. And instead of pulling her off balance, which she had though she was prepared for, with a series of deft movements he wrenched her off her feet and into the air.

She kept desperate grip onto her weapon, but it proved her undoing. He whipped her suddenly around, launching Lessar like a human wrecking ball into Itsuwa, whose surprise counter attack came falling apart.

Crying out in surprise the two collided and rolled away together in a tangled mess of limbs until they collided with the fence of an unoccupied animal pen.

"Children." Lu Bu chided.

Yet even before the two had stilled, they were already grinning.

They had bought Mikoto precious time, time enough to set loose her trap. As her allies flew clear, energized iron ruptured from the pavement in a mercilessly slicing net of iron sand, contracting swiftly around and over her small target. Their improvised teamwork was perfectly orchestrated; it covered from all sides with no escape.

Mikoto watched the net tighten. There was already no way the man, however small, could fit through in one piece. It would not be pretty, but it was certain he would be struck by this attack.

So her eyes expanded hugely when he wasn't.

The iron sand blew apart in one precise location, and he nimbly spun through the gap. One lash of his weapon had distorted the net just enough, deflected the sand from her control with just the right force, that she was unable to repair her cage in time. Still she tried and her attack sawed millimetres from his skin, but he aimed his dive to escape perfectly.

"B-bull****!" She sputtered as he flipped and leapt to the top of a small shed, vaulting with his weapon. "That's not fair! ANOTHER Saint!? Why is it always Saints!?"

"Hmmph. Children." He shrugged, knocking a spare grain of dust from his shoulder. His motion seemed just as easy and smooth as his super-human movements a second ago.

"Misaka-san…" Itsuwa stood shakily from the wreckage of the wood fence, taking a moment to check on the dazed Lessar as she spoke. "He's… Definitely not a Saint. I would know for certain."

For a second Mikoto wanted to argue. _But..._ _Yeah._ _She's right._ The esper eyed the Lu Bu carefully, weighing her friend's words as he slung his weapon to a thin cord tied round his armour's back. _He's quick, but that wasn't even close to Saint-quick. He just was very precise, but still…_

He was gone.

 _What? How? I was just looking-_

It registered a moment too late that he had jumped down behind the shed just as she blinked. Realizing she had somehow lost focus she extended her senses and detected something new was in his hands.

It gave her just the fraction of a section she needed to deflect the thick wooden arrow driving to her face. Her iron sand knocked it aside but even then she was forced to roll clear of its altered path, and even so it sliced through her hair.

Her momentum carried her sideways, but it was a lucky thing. Without the head start she might not have been able to dodge the fusillade of arrows that came after the first; she had to settle for pulling hard on a steel light pole and flying towards it, swinging about it slow down once the rapid-fire barrage had ended..

She recovered just in time to see he was approaching fast; though Lessar and Itsuwa attempted to intervene together, he smoothly shifted one's attack into the other and casually avoided them both. Each fell aside with a cry. With no delay he was upon her, and his pole arm slashed out to slice through Mikoto's street light.

But it missed, just barely, as she magnetically bent the light pole out of reach. She bent it back the other way, whipping down the top upon him in a hammer blow. Glass shattered everywhere but still he leapt clear, tumbling and cartwheeling quickly towards the same wooden shed from before. There he gazed down calmly at her, appraising the esper with growing interest.

"Hmm. I am peerless, but you somehow saw through my attack. Perhaps you might be worth some fun after all!"

 _How!? How!? I can sense him move, but he's still so slippery! It's like he can predict everything I do!_ Equal parts confused and panicked, Mikoto could not spare her staggered friends a glance, too concerned at the sudden threat Lu Bu's bow presented. She fell to the ground, crouching low, vividly aware there was something she was missing.

!~~~~~~~~!

10.23 A.M., December 31st: London: Sidewalk outside St. George's Cathedral

"What is it? Did I misspeak again?" Sensing the diminishing tension, the Archbishop shifted, bringing a hand up to her cheek. "I must confess, I am not used to doing such, but isn't an apology what you do when you have made an error? For I have, in letting the Index get taken."

Touma eyed her narrowly, but said nothing, struggling understand the sudden shift in tone.

"Oh, is that it?" She chuckled lightly, twirling a strand of her luxuriant hair around her delicate finger. "You hardly know me. But somehow, I get the impression you think I am lying about my sorrow."

"It does not matter if you are lying." Touma had not had the chance to respond. He turned to his shoulder, upon where Othinus half-perched, half-stood, stretching the hood open. Her eyes pierced pinprick-daggers into the Archbishop. "My understander already said we are leaving. Do you intend to stop us or not?"

Golden locks fell loose as the Archbishop raised her remaining fingers one by one. "He is wounded and weakened, unfit for combat. He is off-balance and even more mentally unstable than usual, as you are no doubt aware. He is alone aside from you. He has no information, no plan, or preparation to speak of. Need I go on?"

"Your reasons do not faze us." The Magic-God snorted, brushing back the fur of one paw. "Would you like to try your Magic instead?"

"O-Othi-chan!" His harsh whisper forced her to flinch back. "We're not here to start a fight in public! And the Archbishop, she's not about to start flinging golden balls of exploding light around in broad-"

"Perhaps I would."

Touma's last hope for a peaceful escape melted like the morning frost.

"For a good enough reason, I will subject everyone present to memory erasure. I would let them die if I thought it prudent." The Archbishop's radiant smile should have warmed anyone's heart; the boy felt only chill. "Do I have to?"

!~~~~~~~~!

7:25 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, The Learning Core, District 13

"Why do you hesitate, children? You were so arrogant before!" Somehow the man had switched out his bow for his halberd again, spinning the latter around with arrogant ease. "Bwahahaha! Did you really think you stood a chance? Where did all your bluster go!?"

The trio of girls picked themselves up from the ground. Though perhaps most bruised and battered, it was Itsuwa who spoke first.

"This fellow is quite upseting. Lessar-san, who did you say he was again?"

"LU BU! I AM LU BU!"

They ignored the man's angry stomping as Lessar pondered the question. "I don't know how accurate the games are, now that I've seen him in the tiny flesh. Esper, do you-"

"I vaguely recognize the name from my history lessons. He fits the historical dead person theme, though, definitely a summon. A general from the Three Kingdom's period of China, roughly two millennia ago. He was considered a peerless warrior and archer, famous for his deeds but also his incredible pride. It ended up being his downfall, I think, but I forget the details." Sparks were idly leaping from her hair as she gazed towards the ground, as if distracted. "Something about a woman and betrayal, I think."

"I do not think that will work this time, Misaka-san." The three watched as he continued stomping, dust and splinters raising from the shed. "Lessar-san?"

"…Y-yeah, well, he's a tough guy in the games too. Point is we need to contain this joker before he does real damage."

"Right. And go find Index."

"Do either of you have any ideas, then?"

There was a crash of falling wood.

They blinked, surprised to see him pulling his way out of the wreckage of the shed he had stomped into oblivion. He dusted off his armor again, unconcerned with his tumble.

"What are you three chattering about!? Lu Bu does not like being excluded!" Brushing aside the splinters and kicking apart stray boards, he sat down cross legged upon a stack of rubble. "Perhaps Lu Bu will do the same to you!"

There he sat motionless, staring at the three intently.

"...Is this for real?" Lessar cast a look to her equally shocked teammates before she shook her head in wonder. "This isn't real. We can't be getting our butts kicked by someone as immature as that."

"Lu Bu is POINTEDLY IGNORING you!"

"My God. It's like he's a three year old." Mikoto could not help the observation slipping through her lips, and once it had escaped out so too followed her annoyance. "How can he be so dangerous while being such a baby!?"

"L-LU BU DOES NOT APPRECI-…"

The girl's paused. His sudden stop was disconcerting.

"…Three year olds… Baby… Hmmm." They watched as he rubbed at his chin. "I remember hearing a lot of children on the way here. Since this is just to kill time… Perhaps I should find a hostage. Yeah… Yeah!" He pounded one first into his palm. "Those ALWAYS work! No wait, wasn't there that one time-" [2]

"Hostages!? How terrible!"

"And targeting children!? That's really freaking low, dude!"

The Chinese Warrior looked up, aghast. "AGGHH!? I announced that out loud!? DAMN IT!" But he was not fazed for long, crouching low with his halberd drawn. "It doesn't matter! You cannot stop Lu Bu!"

So he claimed, until his sudden dash for freedom was aborted. He skidded to a halt just inches from the sudden mesh of blinding light. It crackled and sparked inches from his face and he stepped back, perplexed. It was all around him, a giant semi-spherical cage several stories tall. He recovered enough to peer forward despite the intense light, studying the lightning trap that had surrounded him.

"…Thin wires? Where did those come from? And why do they glow? Did I not see them, were they always there?"

"Damn. Good enough, I guess."

He turned to see Mikoto's grim smile as she strode through the barrier unharmed. It parted around her and reformed behind her. "Girl! What trickery is this?"

"If you want to find out, run into it. I was hoping you would."

"Just explain this apparition already! Lu Bu does not enjoy how bright this is."

"Fine. Did you think I was doing nothing that whole time? I was making more iron sand, and then shaping it into this net. Which I'm now pumping with power." She widened her stance, keeping careful track of the man's weapon. _I don't care if he's distracted by my powers, he's just too quick to ignore._ She maintained her outward confidence with a smile. "Either the range of whatever ability or magic you have is limited, or you can't notice and avoid things too small for the eye to see. Either way now I've got you trapped."

Her eyes hardened, and immediately Lu Bu drew his weapon. "I sense your fighting spirit, and you seem competent enough to avoid my simpler attacks. You are different from the other two. More like me. That is good!"

"Maybe." She shrugged, indifferent to the comparison. "But one way we're different." She slipped her right hand into her pocket, feeling for a coin. "If you're going after kids, I really can't let you escape. Get ready to fry."

!~~~~~~~~!

10.27 A.M., December 31st: London: Sidewalk outside St. George's Cathedral

Touma's could not help as his gaze shot between the two fierce females. The tension in the air from before he abrupt admission of error had been restored with a vengeance. _Should I be afraid or relieved? Are we going to have to fight or run or just go? I'm not used to this kind of flip-flopping, damn it!_

"…I tire of this standoff. I will not seek to stop you."

"Then we leave."

 _Oh thank goodness._ Exhaling in a burst of relief Touma twisted his head to this shoulder. "Right, so-"

"Yes. Now, go already, human." She yanked on his ear, but far less harshly than he was used to. "We waste time, listening to her vapid talk. The sooner we… The sooner I can get out of this horrendous disguise."

"Oh. But you really shouldn't leave, Imagine Breaker."

His half-step forward stumbled. Though Othinus tugged on his ear with increasing desperation, something in the Archbishop's words had taken hold of his imagination.

"You see, like your pet said, while I may have apologized that does not matter in the end. In my mind, I just made a miscalculation; the Index should never have been made vulnerable. I was even prepared should another attack to be made on St. George's. But the unexpected friendship she has formed threw that into disarray. Still, I do not believe that any of that is my fault. That her capture is really my fault. Do you understand?"

"…What's your point?"

"Human! We-"

"Sorry, Othi-chan, but I want to hear this." Touma's silencing finger covered up her whole lower face, and she squeaked mutely behind his restraint. "Archbishop. You don't say things without meaning to. So why did you apologize if you didn't really mean it?"

"You do understand." Her pleasant smile drew some admiring looks from a group of passing men, but she paid them no mind. "If I admit that I erred, but do not take responsibility for it, what does that make me?"

Othinus peeked around his finger. "A gaping, maggot-ridden festering **-" [3]

"Othi-chan! Sssh!" Touma's hand proved faster than sound as he stifled her words. "Do you really want random people to keep wondering why my hood is talking? And that's REALLY bad language! For shame!"

His harsh whispers drew a few skeptical looks, but the Magic God he addressed sullenly retreated into her silent shadows. But she had a few last words for him, before she completely withdrew.

"Are you doing what you think is best?"

"Yeah."

"…Then dally only as long as we need to."

And then she was silent. Touma turned from his friend, relieved at her support, back to the war of words he had unwittingly engaged.

"…And as for you, Archbishop? I don't know if I care. That's your busin-"

"You should."

His efforts to turn were again waylaid. Again, there was something expectant in her voice. He could tell she was enjoying herself immensely, like she knew a dirty secret of his. One he would fear being exposed, just as much as he desperately needed to know.

 _Just like middle school all over again._ "If you can't just get this over with, I'm really going to-"

"What do you think happens if I'm not really sorry?"

!~~~~~~~~!

7:27 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, The Learning Core, District 13

"I do not understand. Girl, explain."

Mikoto faltered in her step, but kept channelling her power. "W-what? Look, we're going to fight, that's what I mean."

"No. About the frying." He extended a hand in front of his mouth, before blowing noisily. The esper watched the steam drift up from his lips in open bewilderment. He pointed at the cloud. "See? Cold. I am not warm at all, so I do not see why I should be frying."

She stared at him a moment longer, the urge to complain rising. Yet she focused, remembering her mission.

 _I refuse to be distracted._ "…There's no time for a lesson on electro-dynamics." She raised her left hand, narrowing her eyes. "How about I just give you a practical demonstration."

Lightning arced from her finger, a thick and pulsing bolt.

But he was already gone, darting to the side.

 _So he anticipated it. Fair enough. Raising my hand was the test._ She spun as he made a rapid circuit of the circumference, keeping her eye on the target. _Let's see how he does without a telegraph._

Lightning forked from her brow to intercept his path, ignoring her outstretched hand.

But amazingly he stopped himself in time, turning to dash straight to her. Though momentarily shocked, another quick forehead blast deterred his assault, and he leapt back. He resumed his quick loping gait around the perimeter, halberd spinning easily over his head.

"What parlour tricks are you playing at, girl? Where is your weapon? Here I was thinking you might actually be interesting, but these flashy lights are just boring me!"

"Just wait for it." Mikoto's mind raced for a solution to the paradox. _That's not right. He should have had no time; lightning is nearly instant. He's not that fast; somehow he still sees it coming, and so can move away. So_. She tracked the motion of his run, keeping him in sight as she lined up her left hand one more time. _Time for test three._

Lightning arced low, striking for his feet.

"Boring!" Lu Bu easily launched clear as it scarred the pavement beneath him. He hung in the air, slowly rising to the ceiling of the sparking cage, watching as Mikoto grinned.

Behind him four bolts radiated inwards from the net. They rushed towards his unprotected back at an appreciable fraction of the speed of light. He somehow was already spinning, despite having no time to react, but she knew it shouldn't matter. It was a perfect trap, sprung the moment he left the ground and lost the ability to change direction mid air. Facing them or not, he would be struck. All these thoughts flitted through the Level 5's mind.

The attack should have struck home.

But his back was no longer in their path, nor was any part of him. In a fraction of a second she replayed what she had seen with disbelief.

Before the bolts could even fire, he had twisted and turned and thrown his spear up into the air with violent force. The displayed inertia pushed him clear of Mikoto's attack and forced him back to the ground.

She snapped back into reality as her danger sense screamed.

She pulled herself down on piping buried in the ground, falling prone as several arrows whistled above her head. They passed through her electric cage, erupting into noisy flames, but did not break the barrier. The halberd he launched above sailed through, disappearing into the night sky.

Mikoto had time to notice neither. "T-the Hell!?" _He must have shot those even_ _before he landed! There's no way, even if… How'd he know!?_

"That was better, girl." His bow re-slung, Lu Bu stood before her. In his hand was the halberd, miraculously retrieved. "Better, but still boring. I wish to fight, not dodge."

"I AM fighting you!" She withdrew her right hand from her pocket. "If you don't like that, though, how about you try-"

"Wait!" He eyed widened, and the esper hesitated. "Frying! I understand now!"

 _What's he…_ She was loathe to take his eyes of the Chinese warrior, but eventually relented when his distraction became clear. When she noticed a faint but growing warmth behind her back.

She turned to see the barn on fire.

"D-don't worry, Misaka-san!" Itsuwa'd was already kneeling before blaze, rapidly arranging a circle of magical items. "I will prepare a spell to draw out the heat; Lessar-san will protect the animals!"

"…tupid cow, no, the _other_ door, that one's on _fire_ … And don't run towards him, he's the bad guy! Now, _move…_ "

Momentarily flustered, Mikoto was shocked when Lu Bu began to laugh.

"Now I see what you meant by frying! My arrows have burst into flame. So that IS fire you wield. Very strange fire, though. Not proper fire at all."

"It's not-! No!" She turned on him, stamping angrily. "Damn it, I'm NOT getting stalemated by someone who doesn't even know what a watt is!"

"Stalemated!? Girl, you are losing! You could never hope to match my might!"

"You're the one who won't sit still! What are you so afraid of!?"

"I am not afraid! But my honour would not permit me to let a lesser warrior strike me! It is why I have never been touched by an opponent's weapon in a fair fight!" He huffed, turning up his nose. "And it's not like anything you do can hurt Lu Bu anyway!"

"Bwha!? Wha!? W-why I…" Though her rage grew incandescent, Mikoto forced herself to slow. _No. No time. Plan. Beat him. Get out of here. Save Index. Come on, Mikoto… What can I…?_ "…Do."

A flash of inspiration struck, from half-remembered history.

"…Say, little man." He stiffened, but she merely smiled before opening her extended right hand. On it rested a single coin. "How about you try and tank this next attack? If you're that confident, it should be nothing, right? If I can't hurt you, this should be nothing."

"I am not afraid of anything you can do. Bring on the assault, so that I may cast it aside!"

"Great." It flipped high into the air.

"A coin?" He eyed it as it rose before studying her stance. "You seriously mean to flick it at me? _That_ is your weapon?"

"You'll see." It descended into the cross-hairs of her rail-gun. "But I hope not."

She noted with surprise that he was raising his halberd, but it was already too late to change her aim.

The air was torn by supersonic metal, heated to plasma.

It struck Lu Bu's weapon as he swatted it with the flat of his blade, attempting to force the projectile aside. But even as he did he ducked, leaning far back at the same time.

The blade melted instantly upon impact, blasting into molten brass. The coin was barely deflected and it skimmed just over his face along with the spray of his own sundered weapon.

When the dust cleared, Lu Bu was left holding a thick pole of brass, its end still glowing brightly from residual heat, dripping drops of metal to the pavement below. Both stood motionless as the ground sizzled.

"…I must admit. Your chosen weapon was better than this half-forged brass. Stupid craftsman; he promised better than this!" Lu Bu dug the molten end into the pavement, grinding it as it smoked. "If only I had the good iron of Sky-Piercer! You would be skewered upon its beautiful blade, and I would be free to find better opponents."

"L-like Hell! If it was iron it'd be shoved so far up your butt you'd be calling it Nose-Piercer!"

"I do not understand what you mean, but I know an insult when I hear one!"

"Good, because you understand damn near NOTHING ELSE!"

"That is ALSO an insult! I will not stand for this!" The Chinese warrior retrieved his blunted weapon as Mikoto flipped up another coin. "Nor will I stand for that again!"

With that the man took off, charging suddenly ahead. As the coin descended into her line of sight he dropped down and low, anticipating the blasting attack as it burned the air over his head.

But rather than rolling towards her and sweeping his broken halberd into her, he landed in a handspring and pushed himself straight up, high into the air and over her head.

Just in time to avoid several blades of iron sand rose like spikes from concrete, ready to impale him had he maintained his attack. His changed course and momentum carried him over the girl to safety, and she had to scramble to keep pace.

 _Damn it! There's no way he saw that one coming!_ _Can he see the future!?_ Yet she could not deny the evidence of an unscathed Lu Bu before her.

"Impressive. Even while on the offensive, you can maintain a defence. Our powers really are alike." He swung the pole around like a staff, adept enough to adapt his style.

"Stop saying that!"

"Why should I?" His grin was prideful, and she could see the bitter malice in his eyes. "We both love to fight and prove our strength! So come at me, girl! Face the Might of Lu Bu, so that I may prove mine greater than yours!"

Rather than responding she erected a temporary sphere of power, sparks strong enough to force him to retreat. But the combined use of her various powers was becoming distracting, beginning to take its toll. She took a heavy breath. _Okay, time out. Think again. He doesn't want to get hit, so he keeps dodging. That means we both know I can hurt him. For some damn reason I can't trip him up or surprise him, he somehow always seems to know…_

"What is that, girl!? Getting worried, are we!?"

"It's called thinking, buster, but I'm not surprised it's unfamiliar!" As Lu Bu sputtered in incoherent rage, she narrowed her eyes. _Even abusing his anger isn't enough to really distract him. So I guess I just need something he can't dodge even if he sees it coming._ A smile slowly played upon her lips.

But it faltered when she noticed Lu Bu's immediate reaction. He was watching her intently, surprisingly so. And just as fast, the look was gone.

… _What was that all about?_

"Girl! I will make the first move, if you do not!"

He bow was suddenly in his hands again, already loosing several shots.

The iron she'd formed for her failed sneak attack doubled as a defence, grinding up the arrows as they flew in. But whenever she raised a shield she lost sight of her opponent. His subsequent manoeuvring kept her on the defensive, and no number of lightning strikes she sent flying slowed his assault. With impossible ease Lu Bu predicted their path before they formed, always moving to where she was not aiming.

In turn, she could sense his arrows as they approached, though only weakly; enough iron sand drifted within her cage to announce their paths. But something quickly grew obvious.

 _He's not running out?_ Her penultimate strategy of just waiting out the assault and defending was growing impractical; he never seemed to run dry. Mikoto wondered as she watched him flip over yet another railgun, and abruptly realized he had no quiver.

She let down her shield for just long enough to watch him pull back the bow string. She was startled to note his fingers held nothing.

But just when she hoped he might be out, she was forced to roll away, an arrow flying to lightly graze her cheek. Even though the shallow cut stung, she had her answer.

 _It just appeared? Is that one of his abilities!? Or Magic!?_ She swung churning sand like a slashing sword, keeping him at bay as she bought time to piece it together. _He's either pulling the arrows from nowhere, or the bow is making them. Either way, that such crap; why can't I get a coin bag that does that!?_

"I see you noticed! Took you long enough." He grinned, loosing several more. "A trick I picked up from a travelling monk; I hated running out of arrows, so he taught me a way to fire them endlessly! Much better than plucking them from my foes."

"How did you…?" _Never mind. It can't be that. He was just guessing what I was thinking. No one can read my mind. And he doesn't talk like he has pre-cognition, so..._

"Hah! At least I get my exercise from you, girl! My legs were stiff." What remained of his staff bashed apart yet another wave of her attacks, though its brass had become horribly gouged and abraded. "But you're still not a worthy challenge!"

His words brewed a fire in her belly, but before she could succumb to his taunt, she thought of something else instead.

 _Worthy…_

She pushed the thought from her head, and the boy with it.

"Fine. Let's just end this."

Lu Bu's arrogant expression shifted as hers hardened.

She raised both hands above her head, palms up. Then she made a fist. And pulled.

The glowing net of sparking iron, still coursing with electricity, rippled. But only once, before rapidly contracting inwards, to collapse upon them both.

!~~~~~~~~!

10.31 A.M., December 31st: London: Sidewalk outside St. George's Cathedral

"If you're really sorry?" Of the many possibilities the boy had been anticipating, such a question had not been on his list. "But you…"

He abruptly realized her earlier apology meant nothing. Not if the woman standing politely before him had meant it as method of keeping him talking, and nothing more. Or if it was to satisfy her ego, or to promote what she thought the greater good was, or anything else. In such a case, his response was limited to a single answer.

"…That's not something I can know."

"I suppose not." She nodded serenely. "But still, it's something you try to care about. Isn't it? When your enemies have reneged upon their misguided ways?"

Once again, the frown on his face deepened. "What are you asking me?"

"Because what you do after a conflict changes based on that. Whether or not you can turn and call them your allies later, whether or not you understand them better. All that hinges upon their choice, the choice you force upon them."

The boy reeled at the accusation. "I don't tell people what to do."

"You certainly do. We do it all the time." Her grin was smug, triumphant. The two were beginning to gather a small crowd, confused at the mild spectacle of Japanese debate. "And even when you don't, you force them to acknowledge their own bias, their own illusions, self-imposed or otherwise. And in that sense, once people are faced with the awful truth, you have essentially taken the choice from them altogether, haven't you?"

They stood in uncomfortable silence for moment, as the boy searched for an answer.

 _I've always thought that I was giving people a better option. But she says that's taking away their choice? Why is she trying to make this argument?_

He came upon a surprising truth.

"There really is no point to this, is there?"

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You and I can look at the same thing and have completely different descriptions. Even if we have the same perspectives, the same goals and mindset, you will see something different from me. You're just talking pointless riddles now."

"…Is that so? But that's always true. So why bother to understand about anyone, ever?"

"No. It just means it would take me too long to sort it all out and understand you. Trust me. It takes a while." [4] He turned, this time determined to not stop. "And even if I do learn to understand you, I can't make you feel sorry, and I don't have time to listen to why-"

"Well, if I'm not sorry, can you really just let this go?"

"Yes."

"Is that 'yes' just for now, too?" She called cheerily to his departing back, as he began to disperse along with the dwindling crowd. "Because you surely must realize that I am your enemy!"

One last time, his flight froze.

Though everything told him to pursue the girls to Academy City, he sensed danger no less than clearly than he had ever felt before. He turned to look at her eyes, pooled with dark reflections of her intent.

He tried to gauge their depth. "…Is all this, this strange talk and threatening me... Just a way to keep me here? Because you think we're..." The word felt wrong on his tongue, but she snatched it from him.

"Enemies! Isn't that clear already?" She gestured broadly with both hands, startling a few nearby pedestrians. "After all, am I not directly or indirectly to blame for the vast majority of your recent troubles? From your encounter with the Index, the various times I used you as suited Necessarius, World War 3, the Othinus incident; where would you be if it weren't for me? If you do not wish me an ally, you must at least recognize me as an enemy."

 _I know why now that's wrong._ "That's not true; my hand would have dragged me into it all anyway."

"So pessimistic. I greatly enjoy that." She smiled, but shook her head. "Yet even if you can keep from blaming me for all that transpired, there is still what may come. And even though I failed, I might do all. This. Again."

She brought hands together with a soft clap.

"I will interfere with your life. With your future. With your friendships. Your _friends._ And others, all those around you, those who have come to rely on you, trust you, even if they don't know it, and despite the danger you pose to them thanks to my interference. I will start this all over again, and make things even worse next time with my meddling, even though I think it for the best. Even if I justify it, like you do, by acting as if what I do is right, I may be wrong. Yet I will act.

"And in doing so I will take away your choices, your chances to do what you believe is right. People do it all the time, exercising choice that limits others. But I am doing it on purpose to limit YOU, you, the wild card of reality, the joker. By setting up the pieces as I want, to create the better answer as I perceive it, I will lead you into my own vision of what is good. I will use you as a tool. Oh, don't look at me like that. After all, I'm just being honest about what you do already."

She smiled so brightly.

"Taking away the answers of others and inserting you own. That is Kamijou Touma's, Imagine Breaker's, answer to every conflict. You step into their lives, take over and take responsibility for a problem, and then take away the choices of others, then and forever, as they grow to rely upon you. But I will subvert you instead, this time. And what will happen then? What will those around you think of you, should you lose control of your destiny and drive them to ruin instead? After they trusted you so?"

Touma's teeth ground together, but he proved unable to force them open and retort, felt forced to watch as the Archbishop continued.

"If you neglect to stop me now, I can merely avoid you in the future and continue my machinations. After all, I managed to go this long without your interference. You will not be able to find or stop me after this, I promise. And so…"

She swept out her arms again, hands open as if welcoming the future, ignoring the way his own were clenched tight as steel.

"…Can you really leave things as they are, and call yourself satisfied? Have you really saved everyone, anyone, as you try so desperately hard to do? To maintain your own sense of self direction? Can you trust in that? Can you truly walk away from this situation with my threat unresolved, now that you know about it...?"

The Archbishop beheld his dire expression, and could not help but grin.

"…Without making sure my Illusions have been broken?"

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes:**_

[1] All right, this pun doesn't work that well. I'm pretty sure "Neither here nor there" means something specific beyond it not being important, but a time-based variation… I just don't know. It's staying in, though, because a pun is a pun, dang it!

 **WARNING HISTORY LESSON ALERT**

[2] A reference to a possible element of his historical life. Some records hold that he took the wife and child Liu Bei, a governor at the time at later one of the three Kings of the period, hostage to secure Liu Bie's obedience. This was despite the two formerly being friendly, but things soured once Lu Bu got more personal power and could show his arrogance. I doubt this hostage taking really happened though, as most historians now agree that Liu Bei was massively oveyhyped by later commentators. At the time when most early histories of Liu Bei and Lu Bu were written, the old Han Dynasty which Liu Bei claimed to be part of had come back into style. This meant everyone who DID historically oppose Liu Bei became vilified over time, and Lie Bei himself was made to be a perfect moral leader when he really was a bit similar to Lu Bu anyway. Bold and brash, just a lot less skilled with weaponry and better at making good allies.

Whoops. That dragged on a bit. The historian in me had a moment; it has passed.

 **HISTORY LESSON OVER**

[3] Do you want a hint? Though this type of language may be somewhat extreme for her character, you must admit Othinus was always _blunt._

Cough.

[4] Just a few billion years of torture or so. No biggie.

[5] Bonus note. It has been a while since Part 2, so let me reiterate why the summons know Japanese/English. It has to do with the languages that the caster knows, in this Miss Catherine Baker. She studied Japanese to travel to Academy City for Part 1. The summons also know their own language: hence, Joan and her French-isms.


	58. Part 3: Chapter 3

**Well, it hasn't been TOO long.**

 **Cough.**

 **But we're back with another instalment. This one is going to be a little experimental, so I hope it's not too difficult to follow. I wanted to play with some symbolism and parallelism in a way that works well on camera/video yet may be awkward in print. We'll see how it turns out; or rather, you will, and perhaps can kindly inform me of my failures in the aftermath. Let the blood bath begin!**

 **Chapter 3**

7:32 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, The Learning Core, District 13

Mikoto was grimly confident even as Lu Bu leapt from the approaching electrical net towards her, swinging the shortened brass pole that remained of his halberd.

It was abruptly even shorter, and he was forced to retreat lest he run straight after it into a quickly formed sphere of whirling iron sand. The metallic grit billowed inwards under the blow strength for a second, but chewed clean though the pole, reducing its tip to brass powder.

Lu Bu stepped back in a cloud of dust but stopped short of a full retreat, his back illuminated by the approaching net of crackling power.

 _I've got to shrink the net slowly, but as long as I'm careful..._ Mikoto smirk grew, despite the sweat on her brow. _In such short range, I can completely protect myself._ "So where can _you_ run now?"

But for the first time, the expression she could see through the shifting gaps in her defence was one of care. The man watched her intently, ignoring the encroaching threat.

 _What… Exactly is he doing? This WILL get him if he just stands there._ She looked him over, trying to predict any possible escape, counting off possibilities from a quick mental checklist. _His leather armour won't save him. But maybe…_ She stole a glance at his pole.

A pole which suddenly whipped around and away from sight. With a start she realized he was on the move, staff whirling tight circles in his hands as he ran back into the net and away from her. _That could only end one way_. _Well, if it's the warrior's way out that he wants..._

She amped up the juice. The electric net surged even brighter, casting Lu Bu's shadow starkly over her. But he pressed ahead, leaning head first, shortened staff spinning tight circles behind his back.

And then beside him.

And then in front, and then he let it go, momentum released all at once. And as he threw he dove, stretching his arms out ahead, straight for where the crackling net met the ground.

The staff struck net first. For a brief second, it arced dramatically, glowing white hot as it absorbed untold amperage. The spinning stopped, and one end slammed into the pavement.

The lightning immediately subsided all along one small area of net. The sand remained, but it merely hung, a conduit for powers momentarily redirected. Redirected long enough for Lu Bu to dive and roll through the gap to freedom.

And then he was gone, bow drawn to fire pot-shots at the other two magicians, both slightly too slow to interrupt his rapid disappearance into the rest of the Learning Core, towards the front gates to Academy City.

The net fizzled.

 _I… He got away?_

Though Mikoto gaped, she only froze for an instant before letting the net disperse and giving chase. Her teeth ground in her head but she remained otherwise silent.

She remained so even as Itsuwa came up beside her. "Don't worry Misaka-san, I thought it was a good trap. Let us follow!"

The esper nodded mutely as Itsuwa carried on past, chasing after Lessar, who with a surprising burst of speed had gotten ahead.

"Hurry up you two!" She yelled back over her shoulder. "This jerk is pissin' me-!?"

She was silenced by a wild wind whipping over her head. Lessar instinctively ducked, so by the time she joined Itsuwa in looking up to the sky she caught only the tail end of Mikoto's blazing arc as the esper rocketed by, leaving nearby light poles vibrating from the strength of her pull.

Though her eyes teared up from her pursuit's speed, she was still just able to catch sight of her target's fleeing form, and better yet the iron gates leading to his escape. She pulled herself back down to slam atop them, fusing them shut with power as she landed ahead of the Lu Bu. He stopped, eyeing her sparking form.

"You don't leave."

He pulled back, dodging with perfect timing several lances of electricity. He spun out of convenient range, spitting hatefully. "Gah! Persistent girl! Fight me properly!"

She ignored him to leap lightly to the ground, noting her friends hemming their target in from all sides. "Tell me where Index is."

"You kept asking that! Who is this person!?"

"The little girl! In white! You know, that you guys kidnapped!?"

"I cannot be expected to remember every child I have…" But then he pondered. "Ah. That little one? Not here."

"Great." _Not surprised, but still._ "So where is she?"

"I don't know. It was not my task to guard her." He snorted. "And good thing. Lu Bu will never be a body-guard again." [1]

"Whatever." _But this is getting out of hand. I need to stop this guy._ "…How did you know to ground my lightning with your staff? You shouldn't know anything about conductivity."

"Is that what happened? I don't pretend to understand your trickery." He chortled once, amused. "I just could tell that was the only way you thought I could escape your trap."

"…No. You can't read my mind." _But there's no other way to explain it, right?_

"I did not have to! It was plain on your face, to the eye of a seasoned warrior." He crossed his arms, nodding smugly. "I saw you always aimed your fire-like attacks slightly towards my staff. At first I thought you meant to destroy my weapon, but then I realized it was just by accident; your fire was drawn to it for some reason. I noticed as much in our fight, and then decided to draw the trap away long enough for my escape."

The answer made sense. _But he shouldn't have known that was even possible… Unless…?_

"…I see you are beginning to doubt your chances of victory. That is wise."

"N-no! I'm not doubting, just getting annoyed!" Yet she was all too aware of how powerless she was beginning to feel. _I'm sure if I had enough time I could just throw buildings at him until something connects, but that's not an option._

"I suppose you are correct. I do get that sense of annoyance from you; I feel the same way!" With this admission, Lu Bu laughed at her confused expression. "I have to admit, I will have to seriously try if I intend to strike you down."

 _…Try?_

"Get ready if you can, girl."

He fell into a fighting stance. She returned the favour, though markedly less eager. Their tense showdown drew out, neither willing to make the first move.

 _All right. If he was seriously not trying before, I better pay close attention._ She blinked.

And he was gone.

 _What!?_ Though ready for a sudden move, this was not something the panicked esper had expected. _Last time he had the shed, but where…!?_ Too focused on the battle to be more than dimly aware of her friends' sudden gasps, Mikoto widened her magnetic senses.

There was something, thankfully. Something metal attached to him, giving away his speedy movement. But she could not quite pin it down.

She heard his voice.

"Let me show you how skilled I am." By the time she turned he was gone, though she was certain he had stood still for a moment: at least, such was what her electromagnetism told her.

"In battle, perception is everything." Again, he was gone. And again, her senses pinged, telling her to whirl on the disturbance, electric lance ready. But there was nothing there. It had been behind her, for just a moment.

"Blink once and you leave yourself open." Then beside her, the disturbance came again. And once more, it was gone as she turned. She soon gave up on moving, focusing all her mind in the magnetic sensations, neck craning for a sight of him.

"Some men have learned to strike in that moment. I have learned to dance in it." He darted in and out and through the edges of her perception with maddening fleetness. Never fast enough to avoid her magnetic sight, but always just out of vision. No matter how she turned her head she was never able to track him. Several times she was certain she was looking the right way, but her eyes beheld nothing.

"No matter where you look, I can avoid your eyes. I know your blindspots, your moments of distraction." The esper could hear over his words Lessar and Itsuwa crying out directions, but their voices were more distraction than help. Eventually Mikoto gave up her physical senses entirely, focusing all her attention on the dancing pinpricks of metal that seemed to be giving away the Chinese warrior.

 _What even are they? That armour wasn't iron. I wish I was focusing more earlier, I could get a better sense…_

"…Because I know when you'll blink before even you do."

Suddenly he was behind her, and closing in.

Reflexively pushing, she threw all the force she could muster into repelling the little bits of metal that had given him away. She heard him bellow surprise as she was launched forward by her efforts, cartwheeling just under the several arrows that carved apart the air above and around her. She landed on all fours, dimly aware of a few holes in her jacket, but as she scrambled to prepare a counter attack checked herself.

She learned what the small bits of metal had been.

For Lu Bu was similarly frozen. He shivered once as the chill wind blew over his bare skin. His leather armour had been forcefully removed, tiny metal clasps that had bound it to him flying loose under Mikoto's assault. Judging from the dust rising, they were somewhere lodged in the stone wall behind the Chinese man, while the armour itself lay piled just behind him with the shreds of undergarments it had torn away.

All present were grateful for Lu Bu's oversized bow held carefully before him. His face turned whiter and whiter.

"…Lu Bu withdraws!"

The three girls watched him go in stupefaction, staring as he waddled through the front gates to Academy City at high speed, covering himself as best he could.

Itsuwa coughed first, waving a hand to fan her cheek despite the December chill as the other covered her eyes. "My goodness. S-shall we pursue?"

"…Do we have to? From what I could see that really broke his spirit. That or it's flippin' colder than I thought."

Before Mikoto could force her mouth open, Itsuwa rallied. "W-we have to go!" She charged through the front gate, head twisting every which way as she sought the involuntary streaker. "This is a children's district, after all! We cannot let him abduct OR scar any children!"

She stood there for several seconds until Lessar and Mikoto caught up, the former reaching up to pull the that hand still shielded her gaze. "It'd help if you could see! Come on, it wasn't that scary! Stop fighting me and LET GO!"

The two struggled for a second until Mikoto's shouted to their. "He made tracks in the snow, let's go!" She sprinted off, and with varying degrees of vision they soon were following.

"More running!? What a pain-in-butt distraction!" Lessar shook her head in frustration. "I signed up to get revenge and find the nun, not this!"

"We can't let him hurt anyone. Simple as that." Mikoto spoke up, overtaking them from the rear again. But her breathing was heavier than before.

Both magicians saw it, but only Lessar responded. "…I mean, maybe this is his plan. Distract us, tire us out. We have a time-limit, right? Maybe he-"

"No. We stop him here."

Both magicians were surprised by her quick response. "Misaka-san, even if I share the sentiment, it may prove impossible to accomplish all our goals. This situation is beginning to look-"

"Impossible?" Mikoto mulled over the word as she spoke, and they ran in silence a moment longer. And then she smiled softly. "…Then that's just too bad."

"…Uh, that's a little defeatist, don'tcha think?"

"No. I mean too bad for impossible. I'm going to stop him, protect any innocents, and then save Index. No matter what. I'll just do it on the way. After all..."

… _It's what he'd say, isn't it?_

Before the others could comment, a pane of glass shattered up ahead. Rounding the corner they came upon a figure darting into a store near the end of a street of residences. By the time they approached the Chinese warrior had emerged, stolen clothing hastily donned.

"O-hohoh, man! Really!?" Even as she recovered her breath, Lessar nearly lost it to wheezing laughter. "Y-you had to pick this shop!?"

If it were not for his grizzled face and oversized bow, Lu Bu would have been indistinguishable from an elementary school child, looking smart in his matching top and shorts. The summer gakuran gave him a high-class look, even though he lacked the distinctive cap. [2]

"DO NOT MOCK LU BU and his outfit!" He tugged on his hems in an exasperated manner, fighting to hold back his explosive anger. "I did not seek to be stripped naked! Why does your time not have appropriate clothing for adults!?" But suddenly he stopped, eyeing Mikoto attentively. "Still, I have learned something interesting. You are like me after all. Now if only you could wield a weapon, we could have some real fun!"

"I'm getting real sick of you talking like we're alike. If you were, you would stop terrorizing this place!" _And_ _I really need to wrap this up. The authorities might get here soon… Now, does his uniform have any-_

"Stupid girl!" She snapped alert. "We are alike, though I am loathe to admit it! We both have the same power!"

His claim threw her. "...Have you not been paying attention at all!?"

"Bah! It is you who is inattentive, not I! No, stupid whelp! You can predict attacks before they strike!"

She opened her mouth to argue, but suddenly though better of it. "…Why don't you explain?"

"Fine, stupid wench. Listen well; Lu Bu only explains himself once!" Though she ground her teeth at his insult, she waited and listened, one ear out for approaching sirens. "I am such a skilled warrior that I can read the body language of my foes, and feel out the direction of their blows. As long as I can see you, you can never hit me, because I know where you will attack as soon as you decide! Bahahahah!"

"'Skilled', huh?" _Sounds more like an Ability to me. Is that how he was reading my movements so well? Some sort of… Kinetic Observation? What would that even be classified under, a low order mental ability? Or is that his magic?_ "I guess it doesn't matter. But thanks for the tip."

"Well, girl, do you understand then? Why we are alike? You should not be so embarrassed, you know." He closed his eyes and nodded smugly. "There are very few who I would regard as even shadows of my magnificent self. You can brag in the afterlife that you have earned Lu Bu's acknowledgement."

"Great. So, are you ready to give up?"

"That is the opposite of what I am ready for!" He drew his bow and levelled it again. "Now, explain your own sense! You can dodge my attacks, even if you cannot see me; that is unheard of! Return the courtesy of explaining, or I will be doubly enraged!"

"…Whatever. I use lightning. I zap you. Tu capichi?"[2.5]

"I do not 'capichi', I do not 'capichi' at all! I do not even understand! How do you do all that trickery with the iron and fire, if lightning is your strength? Do not try to fool Lu Bu!"

"Sorry." She raised a hand, arcs of power trailing along the ground. "Mikoto only explains herself once."

But her readied lance disappeared.

"W-what are you weirdos doing?"

A small child had wandered onto the battlefield.

It was late enough that he should have had curfew; he had the look of the miscreant in the making, complete with permanent scowl and bandaged cheek. His initial confidence wavered as he took in the details of the standoff he had interrupted, standing across the street from the burgled shop and the Lu Bu.

But then he spied the Chinese warrior. Once he picked up his jaw, the boy began to laugh.

 _Crap! I've watched the kid too long!_ Almost without looking Mikoto launched a quick blast where Lu Bu had been standing.

It flashed brightly but struck only pavement.

"See, girl?" She paled when she looked back and saw he already stood behind the young boy, grasping him in a choke-hold. He had moved across the street with such perfect timing that the boy was more confused than alarmed. "I moved when your eyes trailed across the battlefield. A moment's distraction and you have lost. Such is the way of all lesser warriors."

"You *******! That's-!" _Quick, find an angle, anything!_ "I-Isn't that dishonourable, or something? That you have to stoop so low to beat a girl?"

Her appeal to his pride had no effect. "Victory is victory to Lu Bu! What matters in the end is winning, nothing else!" He gripped the child harder, cutting off the beginning of his terrified cries. "Now kneel, all of you! And admit your defeat!"

!~~~~~~~~!

10.36 A.M., December 31st: London: Sidewalk outside St. George's Cathedral

Touma's thoughts were wordless and fleeting. They whistled through his mind, one impression after another; confusion at her implied demand, worry for the girls, a greater sense of danger looming. It was enough to paralyze him, if only momentarily. "Are you… Sure about that? Because I'm-"

"I am always sure. Well, Imagine Breaker? What is your response? Will you try to stop me and break my illusions? I'm just doing what I think is right."

He hesitated a moment longer, suddenly becoming aware of the people still around them, though most had dispersed as their conversation died down.

"Ignore the crowd; they are Pawns caught between the Knight and Bishop. As I said before, I am willing to cover this up however I must."

He shook his head, equally parts impressed at her perceptiveness and depressed at her intent. But despite that, he could disagree. "I wasn't actually worried about that, though it's a good point. I was just thinking about someone else. But still, I'm not-"

"Do you really think you can delay here and still rescue the Index?"

"I will try to save her and everyone else along the way, with no compromises." He spoke without hesitation, earning him a slight smile. "After all…"

… _She'd demand no less, wouldn't she?_

"Then what makes you hesitate? Such is unlike you."

"I hesitate whenever I need to." Annoyed at the constant interruptions, Touma took a calming breath. "I was just thinking. And either way, I'm not going-"

"Do not think. Act."

"Stop that!" His outburst went ignored, so he continued. "Unless you come at me first, or go off to hurt someone right now…" He weighed the words carefully, fully aware of how intently she watched him.

… _On second thought, screw careful._

"You know, it doesn't really matter if you say you're a threat, and want to use that against me. Either way, I'm never going to fight you over something as stupid as that."

"…O-hoh? …Stupid?" She raised an expressive eyebrow, and then broke in beautiful, musical laughter. Her face was lit up with innocent joy, and even when she recovered it remained split by a wide smile. "Is that what you think? You are willing to pretend now that this all matters so little to you? How droll! If that is your answer, Imagine Breaker, then-"

"No." It was his turn to interrupt. "The opposite."

She chewed on his words a moment, puzzling them out in her mind.

"No, no." She denied him in turn, shaking her long hair. "I thought I was just making a little joke earlier about your mental stability, but now I see I may have been onto something. Have you gotten confused?"

"I'm usually at least a little, but not about this." He straightened, standing taller, more firmly than before. "I'm not going to compromise on what matters most. Everything else, I can let slide or distort, but not that. It's not my job to police the world, and make them bow to my desires. I'm just trying to do what seems right to me. And right now, even though you are trying to threaten me, it doesn't feel right to fight you."

"Hmmm. Are you truly so paranoid about being controlled again?" She ignored the way he flinched. "I suppose you have some reason. Let me try a different approach." She casually swept both her hands up to her head, letting them work at her bundled up hair. Touma watched in confusion as her long locks fell down to the muddy, snowy ground. He was surprised when they hovered, inches above, before coiling up back around her body. No one else had noticed the strange effect yet, but they even began to glow with a dim light.

"What are-"

"I swear, upon the dignity of my office, the sanctity of Britain, and God's name, that I will kill every person you can see if you do not stay here and fight me."

!~~~~~~~~!

The ground was cold and wet under Mikoto's knee. She heard the surprise of her colleagues, but to her the movement had seemed strangely appropriate. More than anything else, she was weakly amused by how naturally it had come.

"This is your choice, girl? To kneel?" Lu Bu snorted. "And you question MY pride? To think I almost praised you!"

"What good is it… Is pride in my strength, when it means another gets hurt? What's the point?" Mikoto shrugged, not looking up. "That's not what I want. Bowing, kneeling, is nothing compared to that."

"…Perhaps I was wrong about you. I assumed you would react more interestingly to a threat. How pitiful. And boring! Maybe I should kill this child after-"

He was suddenly blinded by a flash of light. Startled he stepped, shouting and blinking furiously as he recovered his poise and vision.

When his eyes focused he beheld a lightning storm brewing.

"…Good. Good!" Lu Bu rapidly recovered, laughing boldly. "You have given me a better idea! Let me give you a choice." He pulled hard on his hostage, eliciting a weak whimper. "I will spare this child, if you offer your life."

!~~~~~~~~~!

"You think now that I am the mad one?" She crossed her arms under her chest, almost purring with restrained amusement. "Rest assured. I believe firmly this is what is best for England. For you. Even for the people I would kill! If you fail to act here as you need to and stop my potential threat, the world will be better off without you being the wielder of Imagine Breaker. It is as simple as that."

Touma could only gape.

"Or not. Perhaps I am bluffing." She shrugged, pouting mischievously. "I suppose you cannot really know; after all, you hardly know me. But if you gamble wrong, one way or another, you must understand that you sacrifice your ideals. And it will be your fault if you don't make a choice."

He looked into her eyes, hoping to find some doubt, some hesitation, some lingering sense of delusion.

 _She really believes it._

"You've seen my power. The destruction at the bank. That was a controlled use, to target one person. I can do so much more." She gestured around her. Passersby had still failed to notice the subtle strangeness of her glow, her floating hair, though Touma knew it was only a matter of time and chance. "You can surely save a few of them, possibly many, if you act fast once I start attacking. But just you? By yourself? You could not save them all. Either strike me now, or watch someone perish."

!~~~~~~~~~!

The lightning fizzled.

"Misaka-san, wait!"

"Yeah, hold it esper, let's just-"

The child's sudden gasp silenced them both. Lu Bu loosened his grip, point made as he rendered the boy unconscious. "Now stay quiet, worms. I speak to her." He gazed at her as he did, gauging her reaction, smiling at what he saw. "I am certain you doubt me. But you are in no position to bargain; you just have to take my word. I will let this boy go, and avoid any other person who does not provoke me. Say, let's make this interesting! I will even rescue this 'Index' of yours for you. After all, I enjoy seeing you squirm; why not sweeten the deal?"

"B-but aren't they your allies, you pint-sized pest? You'd fight them all!? What's wrong with you!?"

"I have no allies. And I fear no one! And I said to be QUIET!" His voice boomed across the quiet street. "I warn you, though. If you do not agree, I will hunt down that girl right now and kill her with my own hands. There! Now how is that for a threat!? And a worthy challenge for my skill!"

The choice was made plain to her. She was all out of ideas. Stopping Lu Bu meant hurting the boy. Dying was only way out, the only way she could see to salvage anything.

It was just like before.

Except this time…

The ground beneath her knees was no less cold and wet than the first time as she fell slack.

Lu Bu watched her a moment. Eventually he nodded.

"I see you have seen the truth; you grow weak with despair. You cannot defeat me and still save this child, or your precious 'Index'. All that is left is to acknowledge your complete and total failure." He kept the limp boy locked under arm as he stepped menacingly forward. "You will learn humility at my hands!"

!~~~~~~~~~!

"I see you raise your fist. How noble of you." The Archbishop smiled at her checkmate. "So you will pre-emptively strike me before I hurt them. You have made up your mind to become like me."

Her words were soft, but they seemed layered with condemnation and loathing.

"You've finally accepted the premise of my argument. That you sometimes have to do something wrong to save another. You have merely gotten lucky avoiding the real consequences and costs of your actions. But how many times could you run away from reality before you are forced to face it, I wonder? I suppose today is the day."

But Touma merely looked at his fist.

Imagine Breaker, his cursed right hand.

And remembered an important moment.

"You know… Someone once told me something."

!~~~~~~~~!

"You know. I was once told something. By someone, when it was kinda like this."

Lu Bu slowed his approach. Confusion flitted across his face as he carefully observed the kneeling girl. Her voice was unnatural, juddering, yet it was not weak or hesitant. A few thin arcs of current trailed through her hair, down along her neck, all along her body.

"…He said that the way I was going about things meant… There was no saving me. He… Actually didn't want me to die. Even though it was best."

!~~~~~~~~~!

"…She said that I'm allowed to fight for myself. That I didn't have to bear the fate of 6 billion people. That's not my burden. Not by myself."

Touma took a step forward, and the Archbishop smiled. But it wavered when she noticed his distant expression and complete lack of anger. She frowned at his compassion.

"She didn't want to run from her sins. And…" The young man, no longer just a boy, gazed upon her and was filled with a sudden clarity. "I guess I don't either. Not even when they're staring me in the face."

!~~~~~~~~!

"I can have power while acknowledging it isn't always enough. Not enough to give me the right to act like I want to, to make decisions without considering others. Or even to sacrifice myself. I'm not alone."

Mikoto lurched from her knees suddenly, jerkily, like a violently wrenched marionette as she stood in a wide, awkward stance. Lu Bu looked on in surprise bordering on bafflement; his mouth formed words of disbelief. Yet the young woman, no longer just a girl, rose anyway.

"And yet, I can strive for my own goals, my best case scenario. I can work to meet them, even if it's hopeless. That's what I had proven to me."

!~~~~~~~~~!

"No one can demand that I know exactly what to say and do all the time, to get the perfect result. Not even me. I'm not perfect. So I can change my words, my statements and stances, my beliefs, as many times as I need to. So long as I'm trying."

Touma could not help but lightly smile, despite the situation, his worry, and the Archbishop's rising bewilderment. He was vaguely aware that she had begun to channel some sort of attack. He paid it little mind, and let his fist fall loose.

"Who I am doesn't have to shatter if I sometimes fail. That's part of who I am. I don't have to bear the fate of 6 billion people without ever breaking, but I can still work for a happy ending where someone smiles. So I'm not going to fight you."

!~~~~~~~~~!

"So I guess what I'm saying is, I'm not going to just let you kill me. I'm not willing to lie down and die any more, even if that's the best answer. Even if it hurts to do or try something else."

All trace of confidence had abandoned the Chinese warrior. He kept blinking, flinching and twitching in short bursts, finding it impossible to obey the confused information his power was sending him. As Mikoto's head rose, she wore a grim smile.

"I'm going to save that boy. And Index. And everyone. And then I'll stop you. And everyone one else who's trying to keep me from the happy ending where someone smiles."

!~~~~~~~~~!

Touma stepped forward, as the Archbishop backed away. "I've screwed up plenty. But that doesn't mean I want to quit."

!~~~~~~~~~!

Mikoto straightened suddenly, and Lu Bu flinched back. "It's not about compromises; it's about what I'm trying to achieve."

!~~~~~~~~~!

Touma took another step. "Perhaps what I do won't be the right choice."

!~~~~~~~~~!

Mikoto raised one stiffened arm. "Maybe I'll do nothing but mess things up."

!~~~~~~~~~!

Touma stretched out his hand. "But even so, I'll try to do what I want."

!~~~~~~~~~!

Mikoto pointed one finger. "I'll make things right, because I want to."

!~~~~~~~~~!

"It's not about compromising my ideals..."

!~~~~~~~~~!

"…Because I can change them if it helps. They don't matter."

!~~~~~~~~~!

"If what I want is to try, to try to do something…"

!~~~~~~~~~!

"…Then I have the right to try. To do what I can."

!~~~~~~~~~!

"And If I make mistakes…"

!~~~~~~~~~!

"…It's just my job to fix them."

!~~~~~~~~~!

"So what it's really about…"

!~~~~~~~~~!

"…Is actually kind of simple."

!~~~~~~~~~!

Across the world, they shouted together.

"I don't need a reason to save someone!"

!~~~~~~~~!

7:37 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, The Learning Core, District 13

Lu Bu tried to react. In his panic he threw the boy, trying to push his shield into her path.

But he completely misjudged, and the esper sailed over the distraction with a clumsy leap. It carried her up to his head, and though he tried to dodge, he found himself forced to narrowly block her flailing kick. It was not like before, where he could anticipate even her rail-gun before it was fired. Now it was sheer panic combined with her sloppy movements that gave him any chance to defend.

Neither prepared him for the sudden surge of lightning that pounded through her foot into his arm. Gurgling stupidly he twitched, before the force of her blow carried through his now limp guard. He careened back across the street into the shop, crashing into several displays as he tumbled.

Mikoto herself hit the ground hard, unable to balance after her technique. She fell into a heap, but laughed, letting the power manipulating her muscles recede. The tingling stopped, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she went to check on the boy. Though even as she kept her eye on the shop, she grinned.

"G-guess I was right…" She swallowed hard, still woozy from the experience. "You can't read my body language… When it's my power moving me around, can you?"

The only response was a groan, and a faint smell of smoke.

"Misaka-san!" The Amakusan magician joined the esper as their third went to investigate their fallen enemy. "You… Hit him? How incredible!"

Mikoto nodded as she watched the magician work, presumably laying out some minor healing magic. "An old trick. Been a while since I had to go 'human stun-gun' mode. [3] Glad I remembered it."

"Uh, ladies? Hate to 'woop woop', but is that the sound of the police?" [4] Lessar's nervous voice could be heard just over the wailing of approaching sirens as she hesitated on the threshold of the ruined clothes shop. "How do they feel about vigilantes in Academy City?"

"Not great. I've got the boy, Itsuwa-san, go help Lessar with that ******* and let's go." But while Itsuwa departed to assist her magical colleague, Mikoto was distracted by a brief pinging in her pocket.

She glanced down to investigate, and so missed the explosive burst of activity.

"W-wagh!?" Though her tail had snapped out to grab him despite Lessar's surprise, it only narrowly grazed Lu Bu and she was twisted off balance. Itsuwa fared little better, only managing to slam her spear fast enough to force him up onto the roof. Both followed as he made a getaway over several rooftops, recovered enough to flee despite the twitching stiffness of his muscles.

Mikoto closed her phone, furious at the distraction. "How was that not enough amperage!? Damn, where's…" As she stood she heard a crash, and then the drawn out wail of a siren being noisily silenced. "Crap! He's moving to them first!?" _What does he think he's doing? Do these guys not care about stealth at all?_

She quickly took off, leaving the boy on the sidewalk to sleep away his experience. Pushing off pipes and pulling off poles, she had soon caught up to the carnage that the police response had become.

Several cars were pelted with arrows; the wall Itsuwa and Lessar were crouched behind was a pincushion for several more. Lights shattered and sirens blared as Lu Bu fired indiscriminately into the overwhelmed Anti-skill agents, unable to return the favour without an arrow slamming into their ballistic armour.

"What the Hell's your problem!?" Mikoto landed quickly, blasting the few arrows he reflexively sent her way.

"I must get in as much fighting as I can!" He shouted above the cacophony, briefly turning her way. "I will redeem my honour!" But then he looked at her and blinked. "And on that note, Lu Bu flies!"

He leapt away, onto another set of buildings, and quickly passed from sight.

Just as quickly Mikoto gave chase. "T-that's not how honour works! Get back here, you-!" She was stopped by a soft hand on her arm; though she turned in abject alarm, she was greatly relieved to see her friend's face."Itsuwa-san?"

"You don't need to go."

Mikoto pulled forcefully, trying to break away. "No, I can beat him now! Let me-!" She was spun back around, much to her confusion, to meet the determined magician's face. "Eh!?"

"No! That technique you used works, but you have poor control. You can win, but it would take too long and he might still hurt you: he is still very fast. I understand him now. Let me fight him."

For a moment, the esper was shocked. _…No, he's getting away!_ "I-I can't do that! We're not splitting up, that's-"

"Don't worry. I have prepared." The seemingly average young woman smiled with confidence. "I can beat him now too."

A great deal of things passed through Mikoto's mind in a short span of time.

She forced her mouth shut, then let it open again. "…You're sure."

"Yes. You're not needed for one as pathetic as him." She nodded back to Lessar, still eyeballing the recovering Anti-Skill with care. "You go on ahead with Lessar-san. I know you have located another enemy. Go save Index; I will deal with this warrior."

 _...I don't want this kind of help._

This wasn't like standing by another's side. It felt more like leaving somebody behind.

Yet even so, Mikoto came to a realization.

 _…This is her answer, isn't it? To being useful. And even if it's my fault for not winning faster, those mistakes are in the past._ _Guess all I can do is…_

Mikoto nodded. "…Don't you lose, now."

"Yeah, or we'll be back to kick his butt for you!" Lessar rushed forward to interrupt and took Mikoto by the other arms, breaking into a sprint as they left Itsuwa behind. "Now come'on, esper. We've still got a nun to save."

"Right." _Even if it doesn't feel good, I can't take this choice from her, can I? Not if she really wants to make it._ Though the girl was resolved, she could not help but watch as her one of her new friends turned her back, and leapt into danger.

And wondered if this is how he felt.

!~~~~~~~~!

10.37 A.M., December 31st: London: Sidewalk outside St. George's Cathedral

Nothing of substance had changed. Cars honked as they drove past; groups of pedestrians, families, tourists, all move by with their own individual concerns.

Only a few noticed the ringing of Imagine Breaker. Or the beautiful young woman, dressed in a simple beige robe, staring in complete astonishment at the firm hand on her shoulder. Laura Stewart stood transfixed several moments before her head jerked upright at his voice.

"You worry me, you know." She beheld his face, intimately close, and could not hide her blush.

"W-w…!?"

"You should think more about the kinds of burdens you take on. It's not a good path."

She gasped lightly, into his penetrating gaze, under the microscope of his sudden clarity.

"You can't take the world's future onto your shoulders alone. Trust me; I've tried. We all break."

To her, it seemed an infinite sadness filled his eyes; she became lost in the depths, somehow caught out of her element. She gasped like she swam in over-deep waters, struggling to remain afloat.

But still his drowning words went on. "You can't act like being in control and pursing the greater good absolves you of sin, or that you can absolve the sins of others by taking control for them. And you can't just take it all onto yourself and pretend that if only you are to blame, if only you are guilty, then it's all right.

"No matter what you do, how much you plan and scheme, you are only responsible for yourself. In fact, it's just as stupid to manipulate yourself, and take away your own choices and happiness, as it is to do so to others. No one can be completely selfless, not totally; if we were, we wouldn't _be_ anyone, wouldn't have any idea of who we are. We don't have to defeat ourselves. It's okay to take a break once and a while, to get support. To take advice, but also to take your own path. And if you think otherwise, well…"

He patted her shoulder once, and turned away.

"…Then I'll just have to break that illusion."

She opened her mouth to speak. At first, nothing came out.

"Y-you…"

One last time, Touma stopped for her voice.

"You realize this all applies to you a-as well, do you not?"

He nodded once, looking up into the sky. "Yeah. But I know where my path is going." He half turned, and she shrunk under his piercing gaze. "Do you?"

She offered no further resistance.

He disappeared into the crowd.

Laura Stewart stood in the street. Utterly defeated, and totally without recourse. Her expression was blank, and she didn't even register the clumsy passes a pair of men made at her. They walked by, not surprised to have struck out, but even then she just stood there. Silently doing her best to not think at all.

Eventually some sense of lingering propriety forced her into life, reminded her of a long-hidden plans, still waiting to be unravelled. She had people to meet, orders to give, and reports to wait for in cozy languor, sipping her tea, detached from it all.

Yet it all seemed a bit trite now.

She realized she had managed to stumble back inside her Cathedral only when she bumped into another. Blinking confusedly, her refocused vision beheld the smirk of Sherry Cromwell.

"Boss lady. Heard you had directions for us? About the kid?"

Laura narrowed her vision. Eventually the script reappeared: she nearly sighed in relief. "…Yes. Gather the usual suspects. And the new irregular. Imagine Breaker will be heading for the airport: the spy is already there. Don't let him leave. The Academy City Superjet should be landing soon. Board that, and retrieve the Index."

"Sure thing."

It took Laura several seconds to realize that this acquiescence was far too easy compared to normal. It was a few moments longer before she understood why, and why the gruff woman had not yet departed.

"So how long are you gonna pretend that's still the plan?"

Laura stared at her in careful confusion. "I don't understand what you mean."

"You know, just between you and me, you didn't handle it half bad."

Her eyes lit up. "R-reall… Oh!?" Instantly they dimmed into dejected horror. "Y-you saw?"

Sherry pointed her thumb at the ceiling. "My art studio. I like an open window; cool air gives me inspiration. And woman, do I feel inspired today."

"…" The beautiful young woman frowned deeply in wordless humiliation.

Sherry smiled, but choked back the laugh as she made herself look away. "My opinion is, he doesn't need to be brow-beaten any more. Don't think we could anyway. Not worth the time if we could."

"S-still." A trace off her former steel returned with her surging annoyance. "I am Archbishop. You will do as I command."

"Sure thing." The sudden agreement took the wind from Laura's sails, and she watched as Sherry walked away. The woman called back over her shoulder coarsely. "Just don't expect us to succeed any more than you did." But before she could depart, she turned for one last question. "What even _was_ your plan, anyway?"

"My plan." Laura pondered the thought, as if picking up the pieces of a particularly interesting puzzle. "It was to talk with him, and see for myself what his philosophy was by provoking his worst case scenario. I was able to firmly insist I would kill them, because from what I had heard of him I knew he would find a way to stop me. I suspected I would find the experience enlightening, and perhaps find a better way to incorporate him into my plans with fewer irregularities."

"And how'd that work out for you?"

"…I'll be in my office."

"Like I said, though, I've seen worse." Sherry waved back on more time, unusually chipper. "Be glad he didn't punch you."

Her heavy boots clattered on St. George's stone floor as she departed on her mission.

Laura waited for them to disappear completely before she let her breath out in a sigh.

"I'm not certain he didn't."

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes:**_

[1] This references his short term tenure as the body guard to Dong Zhou, a warlord who seized governing power from the imperial throne and was basically a big enough jerk to make all of China want to get rid of his dickishness. It didn't end well; though Lu Bu lived, he ended up being tricked and forced to flee after betraying his master. It's a sore spot.

[2] Gakuran is the name, as far as I can tell, of the classic fancy Japanese male school uniform, black top and bottom with a white undershirt. This might be more styled for middle and high-schoolers, but I couldn't find a similarly convenient name for a standard elementary school uniform. I might have had I searched more thoroughly, but I don't want to get put onto any more of Google's search lists than I have to: this could be dangerously awkward territory to explain to CSA.

[2.5] This is a pretty old edit, but dang-nabit, I won't let an error like this stand. And I actually am part Italian, but still forgot to check my gender forms. Thanks to Anapaula25972016 for the info.

[3] As of writing this, I can't remember which episode of Railgun this is from. I think it's the Febrie Arc: that might be why I forget.

[4] Let's be honest. If any character in this universe non-ironically listens to modern rap music, it's probably Lessar. If you don't get this particular reference, don't feel bad. I don't know any line of this song but this one, and only because it made a controversy a while back. I also don't know why I included it. I guess I'm just trying to emulate the random references the original material makes, like when Touma compares something to something that he knows.

[5] Sorry for the delay, folks. I had a really rough January. I will try to get at least one major update a month, though. That's the new goal. Sorry again.


	59. Part 3: Chapter 4

**NOTE: THIS UPDATE WILL GO LIVE WITH ANOTHER IN THE NEXT FEW HOURS: READ THIS UPDATE FIRST.**

 _ **Woop woop! Dat's the sound of an update!**_

… **I don't know why I referenced that terrible joke again. Maybe because, since it was in the last footnotes of my last chapter, it's currently sitting right above this little introduction and therefore remains in my mind's eye while I write this blurb several days (later note: now weeks! Ahaha whoops again) in advance. Whatever the case may be, we're back with another instalment of a Certain Holiday Season, Part 3.**

 **I hope that my efforts to tighten things up regarding pacing are paying off; my biggest worry was a lack of clarity. Don't judge me successful yet: I still have at least 16 chapters to screw it up.**

 **Hope you'll stick with me until then.**

 **Chapter 4**

7:41 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, The Learning Core, District 13

The police had not yet made it to the burgled clothes shop, so the alarms continued their petulant ring. The store's lit sign illuminated the prone miscreant boy from above, unharmed but unconscious as he lay on a bed of shattered glass just outside its broken window. No passer-by had heard the confrontation, or had proven brave enough to venture out and investigate the scene, so there he remained, alone.

Until Lu Bu landed lightly back onto the curb next to him. The Chinese warrior rubbed his bruised cheek unthinkingly, gazing down at his one-time captive.

"Now, to regain my upper hand." He leaned down, muttering as he bent to pick the boy up by the waist. "I will not be fooled again. So says…"

His hand passed through the child.

"…!?" A few more confused swipes proved no more successful. His target was intangible, abruptly fading like a mirage slipping through his fingers. "Gah! Where have you gone!?"

"He is safe with me." Lu Bu remained kneeling, hardly turning as Itsuwa deftly landed across the street.

"You? Weakling number two? What do you want, I am looking for…" Despite his disdain he quieted, suddenly interested in her motion. She was carefully kneeling, mirroring his stance, but she was also setting out a few trinkets in a rough circle. "What are you doing? Girl, answer me."

"You cannot tell? That is good to know." As she clasped her hands together, closing her eyes, the trinkets glowed briefly. Just outside the circle they made, up sprang a thin wall of light, a hemispherical barrier glowing softly blue. Itsuwa relaxed, and gradually though the translucent shield the shape of boy materialized.

"He was over there!? How did you move him before I returned? I got here first, I am certain!"

"I did not. I prepared a spell in advance, once I knew he was unharmed. You were still recovering from your blow inside the shop: you have been deceived." [1]

Lu Bu's mouth fell half open as he pondered, rubbing his chin. Suddenly a light in the attic clicked.

"…Aha-HAH!" He looked behind him at the shop, and then back across at Itsuwa. "I see! The boy was never moved, you left him there the whole time! He was across the street from the shop, wasn't he? I had forgotten, and so fell for your illusion. You merely hid him from sight after I first fled, and created his image where I am now to trick me, thinking I might return to claim him. But you cannot fool Lu Bu and his skillful eyes for long with tricks so simple."

"I do not intend to."

He gazed mildly at her swiftly levelled spear. "…Oho? You really think you can perform better than your friend? She barely could land a blow."

"But she did."

"G-gh!?"

"You are not untouchable. Misaka-san has made that clear." She stared straight at the Chinese warrior, all trace of hesitation gone as her spear slipped into her casual grasp. "I can defeat you."

"…Is that puny thing all you think you need? I will kill you, destroy his protection and take that boy captive, hunt down your friend and avenge myself." His laugh was low and cruel. "Where that girl was something like the bold generals of my experience, you are more of a strategist. Perhaps useful in your own way, to some, but nothing but an annoyance before Lu Bu."

"Maybe I cannot fight on her level. In truth, she is remarkable. I…" Itsuwa faltered, and smiled. "For a few reasons, you might say I am jealous of her. But even so, I can follow where she leads. I must."

"Well then. If it is a fight you want, you can have it." In his hand appeared a huge brass halberd, soon spinning violently. "It's sad that the first weapon that strange little man made me was so poor. But it had one good quality..." He let it stop, point-first at the girl. "It had a hundred brothers, and all are mine! Come, girl, if you wish to die young!"

!~~~~~~~~!

7:44 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District Unknown, Undisclosed Control Centre

"Hmmm… Another fight."

Kihara Raito stared at the holographic display before him. He watched the two figures clash, the young woman and the diminutive man, before she retreated under a furious rain of blows. With a flick of his wrist he expanded his field of vision to loom high above, virtually tracking her quick departure.

"Leading him away to the Learning Core, hmmm? Well, that's fine for me. Better resolution sensors there anyway. More to learn."

He saved the state to memory, pushing the view he had developed aside. Across the map a section was zoomed in, revealing two young girls running northwest, deeper into District 13, away from their companion still fighting in the Learning Core. He tapped his finger to his lips, but it made no sound.

"Input one. Several actors in this development have abilities that are unrelated to esper powers. Must be part of that 'other world' the directors are always going on about. Never thought it would be my problem."

He glanced over at a hovering chart levitating to his side, the culmination of the analysis programs he had been running. For once it was filled with information he did not understand at a glance. In some ways, it frustrated him. In other, it excited.

"Hmmm. Input two. Variety of strange fields and effects continuing to spread throughout Academy City, a majority localized in District 13. Most measurable by AIM, but a few others not. Ten examples, remaining more or less stationary, with three exceptions."

He turned back to the map, looking at the rough circle the original eleven anomalies had formed.

"Input three. Gained vast quantity of data from Third Ranked Level 5's encounter with one of the anomalies, but have not isolated connection to time-fluctuation."

He parsed through the data. It churned about in his mind. But for all his towering intellect, his great pride, there was nothing conclusive.

"Output one. I require a larger sample size. How irksome. I have all the city's sensors at my fingertips, authorization from the Director himself for my project this evening. Yet it does not tell me enough. I must… I must…"

He watched the path of the girls.

"Perhaps I can arrange for more testing."

!~~~~~~~~!

7:45 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 13: An Alleyway in the Northern Quarter

"Say, Esper. Can we slow down a minute? We're getting nowhere."

"…S-sure. A minute." Though loathe to ease their hunt, Mikoto felt forced to relent. _And I'm not just annoyed she's not tired yet._ Taking a deep calming breath not entirely unrelated to her run through the city alleys, Mikoto slowed to a walk. "Yes? We're still in a hurry, you know."

"Yeah, yeah. But we've been running around this area for a while now. Aren't we pretty much where we should be?"

"Well." Mikoto stopped fully as well. Flicking on her phone, she yet again studied the map that Uiharu's program had generated, and the narrowed down area she had been searching through. _But I've got to admit…_ "…Yeah. At least the map on my phone says so. Somewhere around here."

"Good. Thought you were trying to lose me again."

"If I wanted to do that, I'd just go straight up and take the high route."

"Mmhmm. Maybe."

 _Oh boy, here we go._ "Look, it's not that-"

"I'll be honest, esper, you're freaking us out."

 _What?_ Though her back was to her friend, Mikoto still kept her face and voice as neutral as she could. "…Whatever do you mean?"

Lessar glanced at her sharply for just a moment before shrugging lazily. "Seriously… Monologue-ing like that, being so principled and driven... You're starting to remind me of someone troublesome."

"And what's that supposed to mean!?"

"Nothing. You'd probably just think it was a compliment." The magician shook her head, tapping some muddy snow off her boot against a wall. "Not like it's my place to comment anyway; not like I know you that well. So back on focus, here; where's the bad guy?" Taking advantage of their stop, Lessar leaned up against a pair of garbage cans. "Looking to fight, here, not practice my endurance running."

The esper had no answer. They were far enough away from the clash with Lu Bu that the alleys and streets had become quiet. There, sirens were blazing: she had expected something similar or worse here. But the few random people they had seen had registered no panic, only mild confusion at the girls sprinting by them. Aside from the beeping on her phone, there was simply no evidence of a Gemstone Magician.

"So, now what?" Lessar spread her arms wide, gesturing down both directions of their current alley. She spun about, ignoring as Mikoto stepped over to the maintenance panel for a nearby infrastructure hub. "We've got to be more efficient than this. Is there any way to speed this up? Itsuwa's the one with the tracking magic, so I'm clueless."

"I hate to admit it, but I don't know." Mikoto answered distantly, already mentally jacked into the system with her phone, scanning every system she could connect to. "There's nothing on the security cameras, no police reports, no reports of any kind. It's just quiet. Maybe this enemy is just more subtle than the others. Some sort of stealth or infiltration expert."

"They still showed up on the science doo-hickies you've got, so they can't be all that sneaky. How'd they do it?"

"I'll run back over it." Replaying the evidence took only seconds, and Mikoto pursed her lips thoughtfully. "…There was something on some building sensors, but it just disappeared right around here a little while ago. Maybe if I…" She poked at her screen, vaguely aware of Lessar's growing disinterest.

"Right, well, I'm going to go over and look around a bit." With that the magician strutted off, hands linked behind her head as she lightly stepped around the corner. "…H-holy-! What the heck!?"

"Eh?" Startled, Mikoto pulled her phone free and sprinted after her. _She didn't sound in danger, but…_ She rounded the corner and skidded to a halt, bumping up lightly against the magician. "A hole?"

Lessar wavered on the lip of a large, steaming pit, bent over to look inside. Her voice echoed back up to them as she called back to the esper. "I just walked over and almost fell in! Thank the Lord it was hot, I wouldn't have noticed otherwise until it was too late." She backed up waved away the burning are from her face, but then hesitantly removed her thin gloves and held them out into the shimmering heat."…At least it's warming me up."

Mikoto joined her friend at the edge, peering down. She sniffed, wrinkling her nose at the coarse smell. _Whatever it was burned a hole straight through concrete and into the ground? Where'd the rest of the material go: it didn't just evaporate, did it? "_ I can't think of any fire or heat based esper strong enough for this. This has got to be our target."

"Yeah, I guess. But we can't exactly follow do there." Lessar gestured at the tunnel walls, still glowing dull red. "I didn't bring my sun lotion."

"I could just funnel iron sand down there, but there's no way of knowing how far it goes. I couldn't keep track down there anyway." Despite her grim statement, Mikoto was smiling. She turned and dashed back down the alley, towards the infrastructure hub. As she jacked back in, Lessar peered around the corner.

"Ah, where're ya going? The hole's over there."

Mikoto ignored her, scanning through the networks again. "I was checking the wrong sensors; didn't think I had to go underground. Some buildings have both earthquake and thermal detectors, just in case. Unless they've gone real deep, I think…" Several moderate alarms beeped on her systems; they converged around a single area. "Yeah, just over here. Back down where we came there's an unlisted construction site. Our enemy should be right underneath that, if he's really hot and making the ground tremble."

"Hey, good stuff! Let's go then."

The two took off with drive renewed, and soon came through a thin alley into a cluttered clearing. It was long and deep, several dozen meters to a side, but only a third of the ground remained open. The rest was taken up by a half-finished building, all bare girders and steel set on a concrete foundation. Large piles of supplies on heavy pallets were strewn about the ground and its multi-level structure, but only segments of flooring had been installed. Save for a few alley entrances like their own the lot was walled in on all sides by more industrial buildings, a sight well removed from Academy City's public eye.

"That's strange… How'd they even get all this stuff in here, anyway?" Lessar rubbed the back of her head as she lead the way deeper, stepping past a thin gout of steam. "Yeah, how the heck were they building back here without road access?"

"Heli-carriers." Mikoto pointed up, still eyeing her phone as she followed. "They fly in equipment and supplies. Sometimes important people here liked to build up construction away from their competitors. Or their enemies."

"That's pretty far to go to prevent industrial espionage, but whatever. He's down there, somewhere?" Stomping one foot on the ground, Lessar frowned. "Now how do we bring him up?"

"Good question. He's lower than any underground power lines, so…" Mikoto paused. _Actually… Unless he's weirder than I think…_ She took a quick look around; since she knew what she was looking for she found it quickly, leaning down. "Ahah! Thought so."

"What? What is it?" Approaching, Lessar stepped up to the esper's side. There, between their feet, was a small pit, deep and narrow, belching a weak breath of steam as it hit the cold night air. "Oh! Are those air holes?"

"Yup." Mikoto nodded, looking up. Though she didn't have it in her to smirk, she could at least smile in satisfaction. "You get the idea?"

"Ohohohoh, that's _devious_." Lessar, on the other hand, smirked like the Cheshire cat. "I love it."

"You get that bunch, I get the ones we missed in the alley. This shouldn't take long."

Splitting up, each girl set to work, rolling garbage cans or spreading iron sand over every hole they could find. The weak streams of steam fizzled out one by one, and when finished the two stood in the centre of the quiet lot.

Several seconds passed with no change. Eventually Lessar coughed. "You think he just didn't notice?"

"I don't know. It's got to be getting bad down there by now." Mikoto checked her phone, but away from the hard-point she had no way to read the sensors down below. "Let's stand back. There's no telling how they might re-"

She paused as the glowing blue light of her phone took on a reddish tinge.

 _My feet seem awfully…!?_

She glanced down, and quickly latched onto Lessar's shoulder.

"Eh? What's that-" The magician was wrenched from the ground with a lurch as Mikoto took off, spiralling up towards one of the building's steel girders. "-AAAGH!?"

Behind them the concrete erupted. Pyroclastic flow poured out in small geysers, overturning construction vehicles and setting stacked plywood instantly ablaze. A sea of lava began to form, heaving up the concrete it didn't melt, forming a large, bubbling pool of orange heat surrounded by a crater of rubble.

A young man emerged from the centre, gasping.

"OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!" Eyes wide he blasted out of the liquid rock like a dolphin performing for fish. He landed on the shoreline, scrambling a short ways before spinning to lay onto his back, chest heaving for air. "Oooooh! Oooooh! Whoooooo…A-a-a-a-air..."

Dangling precipitously from the bottom of a steel girder, the two girls watched him in a state of alarm that eventually settled into wary confusion. He remained on his back, moaning softly, a dressed in nothing but simple beige sarong that somehow survived his ability. When he made no further movements, Lessar nudged her companion.

"Well, t-that's him. Thanks, esper. You can put me down now."

They dropped together to a lower level, but remained carefully a floor above the ruptured earth. It was already cooling, forming a shallow pit where the dirt and concrete had resettled.

 _So can he actively control the heat, or is that just a by-product?_ _I guess I'll just have to find out… As soon as that guy gets up. Did we already win or something?_

But he was still moving, now waving a tattooed arm over his face to bring in fresh air. "…Ooooh… That was a-a-awful. Almost as bad as before..." Eventually he let it fall, and for the first time Mikoto could see the heavy burn scars that ran along his shoulder and other arm. Though she winced in surprise, the young man seemed little bothered by their presence as he slowly sat up, showing off a surprisingly fit physique, muscles rippling smoothly beneath his bronzed skin.

"Damn." Lessar nodded. "Yeah, not bad, even with the damage. Look at those abs."

Mikoto sputtered. "T-that's not what I was thinking! I mean, he just looks so different from what I'm used to. Kinda like…" She hesitated, thinking back. "No, he's even darker coloured than those girls from Liberal Arts City. Like an islander or something." [2] Abruptly she snapped her fingers. "That's it! Hawaii!"

"Huh? Savaiki?" [3] The man stood, anxious and confused as he searched about. "Oh, no! I didn't mean to wreck someone's home! I'm sorry, please forgive me, I'm just here too… Hmm?" He finally realized there was no one in sight. The glow of his lava was nearly gone, and the few lights that had lit the area had been destroyed by his eruption. "Where are you? I heard… It's dark; I can't really see you that well, ah, where are you?"

"Oh, for the love of…" Rolling her eyes, Lessar crouched down lower, cupping both hands around her mouth. "You idiot!" He jumped in surprise, squinting up. "You're the bad guy, aren't you!? We're here to kick your butt and get back the nun, got it!?"

"Bad guy!? I am not all that bad a guy. But that means…" It clicked, and he pounded his fist into the palm of his hand. "…Agh! The enemy already? Damn it! I haven't reached my objective yet, either! Oh, she's gonna be disappointed with me, I know it…. And I can't even see them!"

 _Is this guy as dense as the last one? Seriously?_ But before Mikoto could interject with her disdain, the young man lit up.

"Wait… I know!"

His brightening became literal, and she noticed with interest that he began to glow with a thin aura. _But that's just pure heat. Is that his power? If so, that's not too-_

He raised one hand confidently, palm out. Suddenly a fist-sized rock appeared within it.

"Hmmm. That's it." Mikoto turned, and Lessar continued to mumble. "That's Magic all right, but it looks different from Lu Bu's. He's not just summoning it, then…"

Whether he heard them or not, the young man continued his plan. Soon he got the result he wanted; the rock glowed bright, then brighter still as he focused his heat into his hand. Despite burning at what must be thousands of degrees it rested easily in the palm of his hand, roasting the air around it. Casually he raised it like a torch, and it bathed the construction site and both girls in a hazy orange light.

"Oh. There you are." He looked up, smugly rubbing his chin with his other hand. "Say, you two seem pretty young. Are you really the enemies I was warned about?"

"You betcha, smokey." Lessar's pole-arm spun proudly once before resting, leveled down to its target.

 _When did she get that back?_ But Mikoto forced her mind to the present. "Look, since you're with them, you should know where Index is."

He scratched his head. "Ah... Index? Oh, wait, Miss Baker said something about this..." "...Yeah! Right, she said to say, ahum..." He cleared his throat, clearly working at his memory. "...'Index is unharmed, and if you want her, then come to me.'" He nodded, but quickly shook his head. "I-I mean, not me, her. She said that. Baker did, find her. What's an Index? Sorry, I wasn't paying much attention, I was a little amazed to be alive, you know?"

As he stumbled over his words, Mikoto had a chance to absorb that. "Oh." _Well, that was... forthright._ "So, where is Miss Baker then?"

"No idea!"

"Don't sound so cheery about that!"

"Aagh..." He quailed under her sudden shout, but quickly rallied. "Wait! We're enemies! Stay back!"

With a quick leap he crossed the hole he had made, spinning and holding his burning rock aloft. The girl's crouched low on their vantage point, eyeing his stance.

The air grew tense. Mikoto felt a drop of sweat drip down her brow.

Then another. And a third.

 _Ah... This warm? In winter?_ She brushed them from her face, keeping her eye on her foe.

But in a moment his pose slackened. "Wait, hold on." He raised a careful hand. "Miss Baker warned me my enemies might have strange powers, but you two seem normal. Well, except for your hair-"

"Looks can be deceiving, buster!" Lessar waved a fist, narrowly replacing a far ruder gesture. "Come on and try us, see how normal we are!"

"Right, right, sorry! Didn't mean to offend."

"Better." They resumed their stances.

"...B-but I have to ask, I don't mean to be rude, but..." His eyes flickered up to Lessar's face. "Is your hair so long because it's cold?"

All set to take more offense, the magician had the wind of indignity knocked out of her sails. "...Huh?"

The young man shrugged. "I'm just curious, I've never really been here before. I don't have to worry about it, but most people would find this air freezing! Like the coldest, dampest tunnel you can think of." His eyes trailed over to Mikoto, who flinched visibly under his scrutiny. "But if your hair's so short, it can't be..."

"Excuse me?" _I can't believe we're having this-_

"I don't know about her, but _some_ girls have style!"

"EXCUSE ME!?"

"Oh, it's just that, I understand now." The stranger nodded, rubbing his own hair. "Not many people I know back when I was alive cared..." His smile of understanding slowly faded. "About their..." Distracted, his held began to tilt to the side, but he was too lost in thought to notice. "Hair..." He paused, rewinding the last few minutes until he hit upon the problem. "Did you say you were girls? As in females, or women-folk?"

The girls in question shared a glance. "...Yes?"

His gaze rapidly burst into live, gaze sweeping between them. "...S-so! R-really!? Huh! Imagine that!" He stared at them, eyes squinting. "REALLY. Wow. Hmmmm..."

It was unnerving enough that Mikoto was forced to shrink back from the lip of their vantage point. "W-what are you staring at?"

"Never seen a girl before." He began to stumble around the tunnel's edge, peering up at the pair.

Lessar was less uncomfortable. "What? Did you live under a rock?"

"Oh yes, tonnes of them." He nodded absently, still edging closer. "Oh... I thought it was just the dark, but..." His expression fell, just a little. "Oh well."

"What? What's wrong with us?"

"Ah... N-nothing! No, just..." His eyes visibly wandered lower. "Not what I was told to expect, that's all."

The blood drained, then rushed back into Lessar's face. "... _Oooooh,_ now you're dead."

In a flash she was on the ground next to him, pole-arm swinging. It swept around and over him as he scrambled in full retreat, back towards the barr. She only halted her assault when he had gained enough ground to raise his arms, glowing red with heat that forced her back.

"Whoa!" He shook his head in abject wonder. "They weren't lying about that! Women really are dangerous! No wonder it was just the warriors who were allowed up here..."

"Stop talking nonsense and turn down the heat, you stu-stinking thermostat!" Her pole-arm waved ineffectually, but she could not get the rest of her close enough to deliver the decisive blow.

 _Is EVERY one of these guys going to be ridiculous?_ But the esper was forced to check her initial disbelief. _And dangerous? Seriously, he can make heat so strong he can melt rock, and maybe even make it appear? And disappear; I didn't see him making a pile while he was digging. Well, that's a mystery for later._ No longer fearing a sudden blast of lava, the esper magnetically lowered to their level. A sudden bolt of lightning cut off his abrupt retreat. "Look, I'm in a hurry. We won't hurt you if you give up and explain all this."

"I'm not afraid of you, women or not!" He said, glancing fearfully at the smoking crater just behind him. Instead he backed up against the wall he was forced towards, his hands snapping into and out of the pouch on the side. They then re-extended as he stared with fierce expression at the two behind a wall of heat. For a second his intensity faltered. "I'm warning you! An adherent of the Earth Mother and Fire Father must fear nothing!"

They both edged closer. A line of sparks flickered.

He flinched, but then shouted. "I warned you!"

His palms opened to unveil a solid stream of red-hot boulders.

!~~~~~~~~!

10.54 A.M., December 31st: London: Heathrow Airport

The international airport was a peculiar kind of busy. Planes were taking off and landing almost every minute, but still there were still long stretches of land simply unused, and few people on foot, even employees, ever travelled past certain unused loading gates. So vast were the miles and miles of runways and hangers that a darkened air-control tower, standing alone on the outskirts near a line of trees, seemed almost quaint despite its size.

From behind the tower's whitewashed wall poked a spikey mess of hair. The boy who owned it glanced about several times before sighing in relief. He leaned back against the carriage that had taken him this far, rapping his knuckles on its side.

"…Coast's clear. How lucky is that?"

The girl driving him snorted, scanning the horizon for unwanted eyes. "Good. This better be my last cameo appearance in this bloody mess: I just want to forget about the holidays."

"What do you mean? Cameo?"

"Never-mind." The Tour Guide Girl exhaled sharply, blowing a stream of steaming air as she scrounged for her fallen reins. "Just be glad I've taken the Queen to enough private flights in this thing that people don't question it anymore. Bluffing past those security guards took years off my life."

Touma nodded, quite familiar with the sensation. "Well, thanks you again! It would have been much harder to sneak in on my own."

"Just consider us even. It's not like this was my idea of a fun time, or an excuse to dodge work." The girl turned away as she snapped her reins sharply. But as the carriage began to pull away she was stopped by his voice.

"Say… You said 'even'." She froze, refusing to look at him as he horses slowed to a confused stop. "Does that me you owed me a favour? What for?"

"Never-mind! Hiiyah!" The carriage flew with all the grace of a jumbo jet from the scene, bouncing and bounding back along a stretch of unused runway. Distantly she called back, shouting at the top of her voice. "And good luck, you nincompoop!"

Though terrified for a moment the alarm would be sounded, Touma heard nothing save for the distant roar of jet engines. When he relaxed, he spared a moment to ponder.

 _…Even though I could just about buy them letting the Queen through, you'd think there would be someone out here._ Far off in the distance a vehicle was towing a long train of baggage carts, it was the nearest thing for several kilometers. Eventually Touma's nerves faded, and he stepped out into the open. _Well, whatever. I've just got to sneak onto a plane that's heading to Academy City or Japan, and figure out the rest on the flight._

But before he could take his first step, he heard a soft noise, growing rapidly louder. Too rapidly.

He spun upwards as a roaring wall of sound hit him, a solid fist of air. The force blew him forwards and sideways, back in line with tower as a plane touched down just beside him, blowing nearby snowdrifts ragged with passing shockwaves. It travelled a short distance before slowing and stopping impossibly fast; ahead of it for several hundred meters Touma could see the wave of wind it generated brewing a powerful snowstorm, though the plane itself was already motionless and whirring contentedly.

He shakily stood up, holding his head. He swallowed his heart, it having jumped to his throat, and staggered back to the tower to regain his senses.

"Whatcha doing out here, nyah?"

"Aghah!?" Flinging himself face first to the ground, Touma readied himself to turn and fight when he instead froze. "Wait. That's…?" Rolling onto his back, he squinted through the morning glare at a blonde haired teen, smiling cockily behind a pair of stylized sunglasses.

"Geez, Kami-yan. That's why I stayed inside the tower. Those super jets make a hell of a shock-wave when they come in for a landing. Fun to watch though, nyah." The spy snorted, reaching out a hand to help him up. "Why else do you think they land it here then taxi it back in to load all but the most important passengers?"

"Tsuchimikado? Oh thank God." Accepting the aid with good grace, Touma pulled himself to feet, but half-collapsed again as he bent over his knees. "Glad I recognized your voice before I had a heart attack or something."

"What's got you so on edge, nyah? I mean, it's not like you should be…" The spy paused, before slowly turning to the boy. "Don't tell me you didn't come to this remote tower on purpose, to board the only plane fast enough to get you back to Academy City in time to make a difference? And to intercept it before you can be stopped by anyone, then to engage the auto-pilot and fly home, because that's your only possible way to get home stealthily?"

"…Yes?"

"Oh." They shared a look, and then the spy shrugged. "Figured, nyah. Guess I'm glad that Tour Guide Girl knows what she's doing, or else I would have been waiting here for nothing."

"So that's why she drove us this far out!" _She really is good..._ Though he felt he could spare a moment in self-reflection, a niggling doubt worried into his growing ease. He watched Tsuchimikado begin to walk away, closer towards the now idling plane. "A-ah, wait, you were waiting? Too, I mean?"

"Yeah." The spy spun on his heel and turned away, unbuttoned shift ruffling open despite the chill winter. "Along with the rest of Necessarius and all England's auxiliaries, I've been ordered to stop you."

The moment froze. Touma stared at his friend; his classmate, his neighbour. The other boy returned the favour.

"Ya see, I was nearest, but I'm just the first. I figured I'd camp out at your most likely target, and wait for you here. The others will be here soon, nyah." The spy stretched, never taking his eyes from Touma. "I was hoping to commander the plane before you got here, but I suppose I misjudged the timing a little."

The stand-off dragged on.

"…So what's next?" _We've fought before, but in a situation like this… He can take me apart, I'm sure. And it'll be absolutely hopeless if anyone else shows up. But still…_ Touma's eyes flickered to the plane; though he was aware his friend noticed, he knew they were equally aware it didn't matter. _I don't have to win. I've just got to get to that plane and stall him long enough to take off._ "Are you going to try and stop me?"

"Probably should." The spy raised a hand, but Touma didn't waver, even though he saw held a small remote. Tsuchimikado pressed a button on its upper right corner, and the plane behind him rumbled, slowing rolling backwards. "Still, I am a double agent after all, nyah."

"W-what?" Touma's fist loosened as the plane taxied towards them. He was dumbfounded as it surged its reverse, before coming to sudden halt just beside them. "Where's the pilot? The passengers?"

"None. All autopilot. Well, not the passengers, that's just a coincidence: someone sent it back after a priority flight just two hours ago. Still, pretty neat, nyah? These jets have more features than luxury plasma television!" Another click of the remote, and the plane's door slid up, rolling down a sturdy rope ladder as it did. He leapt to it, climbing neatly up. Tsuchimikado waved back down with a cheery grin. "Well? Coming?"

"Hell yeah I am!" Grinning in turn, Touma scrambled up the rope as fast as his arms could take him. Which is why he was surprised when a hand suddenly grasped his own tightly.

"Ah-ah-ah, Kami-yan." Touma stared up, his hopes on shakey ground as he beheld the cool expression of his ally. "One more piece of business before take-off!"

"A-are you going to give me one of those in-flight safety instructions?"

"Nope!" Darkness spread across the spy's face as he turned it down, looking out over the unfortunate boy with grim intent. "You owe me, nyah. I'm part of the dark side of both worlds, of Science and Magic, Kami-yan. You know what that means."

Touma looked back at the ground, aware how easy it would be for the spy to toss him off should he refuse. _Crap._ "…All right, how bad is it?"

"You'll need to go into the convenience store and buy at least 5 risky adult magazines for me."

"Kch-!? R-really!?" Touma sputtered, nearly falling off of his own accord. He hardly noticed as he waved a fist at his grinning friend. "You know that whenever I do that, something terrible with a woman happens!"

"I do; that's why I'm making you! It's hilarious to watch, nyah!"

"*******!"

"You agree then?"

"Yes!" Touma pulled on the spy's hand sharply, pulling himself into the plane and rushing past to the cabin. "Now let's get out of here before Kanzaki-san or someone else shows up."

"…That was quick." Tsuchimikado blinked behind his glasses then shrugged, flicking another button on his remote that sealed and pressurized the door behind them. "I would have bargained as low as 3, nyah. Must be desperate."

"Shut up, moron." The cabin was unlocked, so Touma stepped inside, surprised at how familiar it smelled. _I guess I ride these things way too much… But anyway._ "Now, how do we start this-?"

The engines roared into life, and the jet lurched forward. Touma grasped the co-pilot seat as it spun about, watching as Tsuchimikado to the remaining chair.

"Take a seat, Kami-yan! These things give some serious G forces! Remember? Like a space-launch?" As the plane began to accelerate, the spy paused. "Say, nyah: you haven't gone to space yet, right?"

"Obviously not!" [4] Touma clambered into his chair, turning to face forward before it was too late.

"Oh, and about the magazines?"

"What!? What about them!?" The engines nearly drowned out his friend, but he was just able to hear the spy's laughing shout.

"I meant on five different occasions!"

"…YOU *******!" Touma bellowed in impotent fear and anger as the hated super-sonic acceleration took them streaking into London's sky.

It was several minutes later than he fell from his seat onto the floor, wheezing. "Oh I hate that I hate that, ooooooh, such misfortune…" So wrapped up in his suffering was he, that he hardly noticed as Othinus staggered from his hood, leaning limply on the back of his head for support.

"G-good work, human. Now stop your w-whining while I go get changed. This cat suit must come off." Though the plane flew steady, the Magic God's walk to the on-flight bathroom had a drunken tilt to it.

Touma listened to her go in silent misery until Tsuchimikado made a soft noise of approval, spinning around in the pilot's seat to lean over the boy. "Wow, Kami-yan. I've got to say, I'm a little impressed."

"Y-Yeah?" Touma rolled over to his belly, forcing his arms beneath him as he pushed up from the cabin floor. "Am I getting tougher about these planes?"

"Not really. You're still a baby about it, nyah." Laughing at his friend's annoyed reaction, the spy continued. "But you complained way less before doing it anyway; that's unusual. That means one of two things." He raised a finger as Touma raised his head, kneeling on the ground with an uneasy stomach. "My friend, either you're getting more mature… Heh… _Or_ …"

Touma raised an eyebrow and smiled lightly as he finally found his feet. "…Or?"

"Or you've got something worse to worry about."

The smile disappeared. "Obviously I'm worried. Index has been kidnapped."

"Nah, Kami-yan, not about that. And you're awfully quick to find an excuse." The spy ignored Touma's stony expression, leaning forward in seat to look over the plane's many digital screens of meters and readers. "You're often worried about that. You're used to worrying about things like that; it's practically the only way I see you, nyah. But this is something different."

For a time, Touma was silent. But he soon turned from the cabin, taking a few short steps down the jet's central aisle into its luxury passenger area. The few seats here had expansive room on all sides, able to fully recline and with stocked mini-bars attached to each. But the boy paid them no mind, eyes focused elsewhere.

"…What's your problem, exactly?" He forced a chuckle as he tangled his fingers behind his head, stretching his suddenly stiff shoulder. "We're just here to fly to Academy City. This isn't the time to try and psycho-analyze me; don't we get enough of that in class from Ko-?"

He wasn't concerned by the sound of his friend's footsteps behind him, and didn't think much of the hand grasping his shoulder. But when he was tugged off balance and hurled face-first ahead, Touma began to feel some moderate alarm.

It was only when he hit the opposing wall that his brain fully caught up with his circumstances, so it could not help much as he rolled down the length of the luxury seating compartment. "W-what the Hell!?" Rubbing his head he shakily pushed himself up against the cupboard that had halted his tumble. "Why'd you do that, you ***hole!?"

His only answer was growing surprise as the spy sprinted down the aisle, at the last second swinging back his leg for a kick. Touma narrowly rolled away as the foot collided with the drawer behind him, ramming a hole clean through its white surface. As he rolled away to gain some ground, he witnessed the frightful damage.

 _Holy crap! That was no joke!_ "What's gotten into you!? We're on the same side!"

"We sure are. Now…" Tsuchimikado tried to approach again but was caught, and he glanced down at his foot. "Tch. Cheap plastic." He wrenched it free, ripping the drawer off by its hinges and flicking it free to clatter behind him. "Just looks solid; that's why these things can be so fast, nyah."

"What the Hell is this all about, huh? That was no love-tap!"

"Good. Guess you realize that I am being serious." The spy cracked his knuckles, raising his fists as Touma was forced to do the same. "You see, I let you get onto the plane, but that doesn't mean I also have to let you get off."

 _What?_ "No, that's not… But if you weren't, why even…?"

"It's simple. If I decide you're not in the right mindset to be useful, or if you'll be more harm than help, then I'll just tie you up and keep you here, nyah. And from the careless and clueless way you've been acting today, I think I just might have to. You're way worse than normal, nyah, liable to be a danger. You didn't even have a plan when you left the Archbishop so frazzled, did you?"

"W-what!? Why would you do that!? And this morning? What did you see?"

"I'm a spy, dumb***. And I can see right through you. I also a double agent, after all." Tsuchimikado's snarky grin grew more annoying by the second, and he practically sang his next taught. "But it's really just that I can tell you're dwelling on something stupid."

Touma fumed. He felt his anger rising, but he caught hold of it, choking it back. He lets his fists fall to his side. "…I'm not going to fight-tgh!?"

The fist flew so fast it whistled as it struck the boy in the cheek, sending him sprawling into a seat. "Good! That'll make this easier, nyah!"

Touma blinked, wide-eyed and blinking back tears of pain as he rubbed his sore jaw. His hands grasped for balance, one hand eventually settling on the mini-fridge by the seat, as he watched his friend stride closer.

"As your friend, it's my job to make sure that whatever you're messed up about doesn't screw up anything that's for the best. Even if I have to beat it out of you. And then we can have a nice chat."

He leaned back to launch another kick into Touma's chest, but reeled back as a bottle of 1967 Dom Perignon slammed into his face, showering its contents everywhere. As he stumbled, whipping free his cracked sunglasses, the spy only had time to raise his arms as the entire mini-fridge caught him. Though knocked onto his back, he quickly kipped back up to his feet, noting the dire expression Touma held.

"Ready to fight then?" The spy nodded, his grin slowly fading as he reached for a spare pair of shades in his pocket. "Good. Now it's time for our manly fists to do the talking."

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] Remember when Mikoto thought Itsuwa was preparing a "simple healing spell" last chapter? The magician is smarter than you think. At least, I like to think so.

[2] Railgun SS: Liberal Arts City. Mikoto is thinking of Xochitl and Tochtli, of the Aztec Magic cabal 'Return of the Winged One'. She's right that this guy is something different.

[3] Hawaii is very similar sounding to the name Savaii, the main island of Samoa. A conjectured origin of both words is the Proto-Polynesian word Sawaiki, meaning vaguely 'homeland,' which I imply is what he understood her words to mean. Linguistics is fun.

It's also around here that I finally settled down on the characterization I wanted to have for him. My original intent was to make him the youngest and most innocent/inexperienced of the summoned Gemstone Magicians. I played around with a making him kind-hearted, confused, scared, and eventually settled on afraid of girls. As silly a result this may be, the choice was hard, because I didn't want to go with the stereotypically male depiction of a Pacific Islander; I have enough hardened warriors already. In the end, I decided to completely create my own culture for his backstory, which you may eventually find out should you choose to, in Interlude 3.

[4] But let's be fair. It's just a matter of time before he does.


	60. Part 3: Optional Side Stories 1

**NOTE: THIS IS NOT CHAPTER 4. READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER AFTER OR BEFORE THIS BEFORE MOVING ON TO CHAPTER 5 IF YOU ARE CONFUSED.**

 **First off, a big thank you to Malandy, for spending the time to help me review this particular update. It was a mammoth undertaking, so give him a big thanks at least in your minds, if nowhere else.**

 **Welcome, one and all, to this first instalment of "A Certain Holiday Season's" optional side-stories.**

 **You might be asking, "Optional Side Stories? What the heck is this? Are the main characters in this? Do I want to care otherwise?"**

 **Yes, exactly what it sounds like, no, and maybe.**

 **This update, released as interludes like before, is my answer to the following dilemma. A) I want to tell my complete story. B) I also want to focus on the main plot between Touma and Mikoto. Therefore, C) Tell the two stories somewhat seperately, so that people can choose if they want to read this or care about it, but with connections between each.**

 **So, these are the backstories of the Gemstone magicians. There is, as I've stated elsewhere, no pressing plot-need to read these stories. They might explain some mysteries and foreshadow some developments, but there should not be too much that will not be revealed in the due course of time. While I first wanted to weave these tales into the main body of my story I instead have written them here. In one form or another, they existed well before I started Book 2.**

 **So I decided to expand those stories, neaten them up, and present them as self-contained narratives. They will be presented in the order they were summoned, which itself follows the order of the "12 Days of Christmas". Feel free to read the ones that interest you, or none at all. You might get a better sense of their characters, should you enjoy them as such, and this solution will allow me to keep the pace of the main story intact. I'll be doling them out as Interludes, like before, but to keep things moving this final book, the interludes will be released with the chapter than precedes them. The writing of these has not impeded my progress on the main plot: by the time I posted Book 3's first chapter all have been written, or at the very least completed drafted, which is the hard part. I did most of this writing when I had a computer, but none of my main notes, so it was either this or endlessly doing math on a built in calculator to waste time.**

 **I might end up being a little experimental in these: note that this entire fanfic, aside from being a passion project, was also meant as practice. I will stylistically cut loose a little, employing more poetic language and techniques than I normally would. The theme has also grown a little grim-dark; I don't THINK there are any trigger warnings that wouldn't already come up in Index or Railgun naturally, but since you never know I'll just advise you that they are not all fun. Tragedy is a theme.**

 **You have been warned.**

 **Please enjoyed the first three backstories of A Certain Holiday Season, Part 3, and as always, thanks for sticking with me.**

[Classifed] P.M., December 30th: London: St. George's Cathedral: Codex and Research Branch

The cozy little office was as stuffy as it usually was.

Thankfully, Orsola Aquinas, St George's resident codebreaker, was already used to it. It had been stuffy in Autumn when she arrived with Necessarius, it was stuffy now in the Winter, and she predicted with demure certainty that it would be stuffy come Spring and Summer.

On that note, she sneezed, and feared her newest box of tissues would not survive much longer than the last. For now the waste bin at the side of her candle-lit writing desk was fresh and empty, but already it gained its first occupant: she blew noisily before tossing the tissue aside.

One might have criticized the blonde-haired woman for her choice in profession: if she was sensitive to the dust and mould of old books, why study them religiously? Yet even as she honked and sniffled into a second tissue, a smile was writ large across her face.

It was a smile born of completion. She was nearing the end of a long project, pulling long hours to trawl through the material Necessarius had held, or been able to obtain by various means, on a certain sensitive subject matter. Vast volumes and old documents she had skimmed through, countless scrolls and tomes. But most principle to her work were the documents recovered from Miss Baker's hideaway by the spy. They had proved illuminating: the scholar in her revelled in the joy of discovery.

For Orsola wasn't really concerned whether her answers would arrive in time to be useful: she half-suspected she had already been forgotten in the chaos of the time-shift and the impending doom of reality. Despite this, the code-breaker was content, having quickly solved the enemy's simple ciphers, devouring what information they hid to bolster her own.

It was satisfying work, all the more so because she was finally ready.

Her studies over, Orsola began to write.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **General Report Overview:**

Drafted upon order of Archbishop Laura Stewart, this report compiles all known/relevant details of the shades/wrights/unknown entities summoned by the "The 12 Days of Christmas" prophecy spell, hereafter referred to as "Summons" or "Gemstone Magician Hybrids" for lack of accurate designations. Shared chracteristics between all known members of this group are compiled as follows:

Summons all combine a natural born Gemstone Ability, as emulated by Academy City's Power Curriculum, and magical training in various traditions, without obvious side-effect.

Summons embody the persona of a historical personage, sometimes famous and sometimes unknown, and claim continuity with their 'past lives', as if they had experienced death, but were returned to this world. Verification of this is deemed **High Priority**.

There as yet is no consistent explanation for how persons born with natural talent are able to perform magic without backlash. Status as poorly understood Summons aside, there is evidence for their ability to do so in their own, historic lives. Verification of this is deemed **Ultra-High Priority**.

All Summons are allied with Catherine Baker (Alias Caterina Bachar; Miss Baker) under their own volition, despite obvious potential for control within parameters of Prophecy Spell "The 12 Days of Christmas". No mind-altering effects have been registered by any attempted scrying methods.

Each Summon corresponds to a different day of "The 12 Days of Christmas", one per day (with one note-able exception: see Summon #2). Each summon will be analyzed with this order in mind.

There may be yet an additional thread tying all actors in the current conflict together: the preliminary hypothesis has been set out below, alongside evidence for each listed Summon.

 **The First Summon:**

 **Subject:** Daedalus, Greek Inventor, Magical and mundane.

 **Temporality:** Ancient Greece, Mycenean Era. 1400-1100 B.C.E.

 **Capabilities:** Gemstone/Magician Hybrid,

 **Gemstone Ability:** Unknown, temporarily ranked (Borrowing Academy City's nomenclature) Level 3-4 and named "Metallurgic Infusion". With Metallurgic Infusion Daedalus is able to not only control substantial quantities of bronze alloys, but can also replicate technology that he understands with further assistance from his Magical skills (See below). He has gone so far as to replace his physical form with his preferred metal: it is unknown how this was possible, or what extent it truly reaches. When pressed, can use his body as a weapon, detaching and leaving behind large portions. If necessary he can utilize similar alloys in the environment to improvise weapons or merge with his original form.

 **Magical Skills:** Artificing, Animating, and Symbolic Representation expert. Much of the Western World owes its wide variety in Magic artifacts to his initial experiment, which we now know were bolstered by his Gemstone Ability. He does not seem to utilize much combat magic, instead preparing in advance artifacts shaped by his Gemstone power to perform specific or general functions. The scope of his knowledge is not clear, but it is assumed that his magical repertoire is centuries out of date.

 **Conclusion:** Though his personality has been described as erratic, he is a cunning inventor. The longer he spends in a magic and technology rich environment, the more dangerous he can become. More potent than either of his powers is his endless curiosity, and he constantly reinvents his craft and form. Finally, if the information in Addendum 1, Entry 4 is to be believed, he may be more dangerous than initially assumed. His greatest weakness is the inherent properties of his material; melting him down has proven effective in past engagements, though how he survived remains a mystery.

Addendum 1:

Attached below is information deciphered from Miss Baker's recovered journal. It seems to be a compilation of visions or dreams, recorded in an undated journal. Accuracy of any historical information it contains is difficult to assess, but is included for sake of completion. Journal entries have been spliced into reports alongside each relevant Gemstone summary for ease of understanding.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 0:**

Date: January 6th

I have begun to dream again.

If the pattern continues, this will be the fourth night in a row. I have not had such dreams since I was a child, but then they were scattered, confused. Now it is clearer than ever before, and is just a single, repeated dream; I suppose I should be grateful they are not nightmares that I forget the moment I awake, but even so, enough is enough.

Though I have limited access to study materials, I have done some basic reading on lucid dreaming. They say that unless I can work out the underlying stress or message my subconscious is sending, I will continue to be plagued by their recurrence. Such is the point of this journal: to understand and eliminate. The only stress I can think of I already understand well enough, but I will save that for a later date, when I am more certain this record is secure.

In truth, I do not know where to begin. I have never kept a journal before. I will be brief and keep these notes to the point, though my actual dream notes will be detailed as per the instructions of my resources. I write in code, to hopefully deter curious priers, but since I do not know how clever my code is I will be careful. I will not risk his hopes on these feverish impressions, especially should he find this before I am ready to explain. I dare not even risk my own hopes.

To begin.

I dream of a boy on a beach. There is another present, but I know he is central. I have never met him before, but he returns with my sleep without fail. I have practiced my techniques for lucid dreaming: it is good they require only meditation and not Magic, so that I can actually perform them. I will try to lucid dream and will then to record every detail I can in the morning. However many nights it takes, I will put this dream to pen. I do not know what this will accomplish. It may do nothing. But I will feel better for having made the effort.

Some day I may tell him, or try to find someone I can trust, to see if I can determine the dreams' import. For now I am content to let them remain a curiosity. So long as they stop troubling me.

So ends this journal.

[Orsola's note: This segment appears to have been added at a much later date.]

It is clear now this all corresponds to the prophecy. The coincidences lines up too neatly. If I do not act all will come to ruin. If you find this, I am sorry, Terrance.

Truly.

 **Entry 1: Flightless**

Date: January 12th

 _On the day he discovered his powers, he knew he could do anything._

The dream begins as the sun beats down upon a boy's shoulders. Though dark of skin, he sweats as if unused to the heat. His hands wipe across his brow, both smooth and unscarred.

I do not know why, but he stands on a wide empty beach. Opposite him and several feet away is a taller girl, and a shorter pile of what looks like scrap metal, comprised of gears and levers and other simple constructions. The two youths are dressed in simple tunics, but their clothing is clean and whole.

The boy fights to hide his discomfort as he stretches out his hands. There is a sense that he has done this many times before; his expression is tired and his motion routine.

I suddenly recognize Magic. I hate to acknowledge it but I am filled with jealousy.

It flows across the sandy beach and into his contraption of gears and levers.

For a moment they glow and begin to move with a life of their own. Satisfied, and perhaps a tad hopeful, the boy eases the stream of power. His face is now taut with anticipation. But the whole affair stutters, clanks, and clatters to pieces seconds later.

His face is a mask.

Behind the wreckage, the taller girl sighs. "You fool. It's as the Maester said-"

"Shut it! You and the Maester both! I can put Magic inside, I know I can. Now, hold the Mekanism in place again, sister! I know what I did wrong last time, I'm getting closer!"

I do not know how I can understand their words. Their lips do not move like they are speaking English, yet I still understand. Their argument continues.

"Oh, you're such a nuisance." I recognize in her a kindred spirit: the infinite patience of an older sibling. She braces herself once more, and draws a Magic circle in the sand. I see now she is redrawing it, tracing again patterns that had been worn out by her own Magic. I missed it the first time, but both youths apparently had played a part in this work, whatever work it was. It seems while she held the mechanics into some arrangement, he attempted to infuse it with power. I see now obvious purpose.

I watch and grow confused as the sun beats down. Her Magic seems simple, but for some reason it requires a great deal of preparation. I recall wondering what era this dream portrays, that Magic is so crude. Even I, who knows so very little, can see that much at least. After a few minutes, in which her brother re-arranged his own Magic circle and pile of metal, she mutters a long stanza of magical verse.

He observes her, waiting until she completely moulded her mana, before commenting, "...Wouldn't that be so much simpler if you could _embed_ the magic-"

"I'm only doing this chore for you, brother!" Her voice is waspish, but there is kindness in her eyes. "At least I've convinced you to perform these ridiculous experiments out here, away from prying eyes. I have no desire to lose our patronage, should you make our Teachers think you are mad."

"They won't think that! Not when I prove them wrong."

"Just try again." With grim enthusiasm the boy did so.

The pattern repeated itself, this time in silence. They reset the experiment.

Again. Failure.

And again. Failure.

And again, but each and every time when he withdraws his Magic the enchantment fades and falls apart.

I realize now that he is trying to create an artifact. He seems to be aware of the need for symbolic runes since I can see now the metal pieces are deeply carved, but still must be missing some crucial step.

The sun has nearly set when he finally collapses, weak kneed and mana-drained.

His sister pauses, and then steps over the ruin of his experiment to rest beside him, a hand soon ruffling his dirty hair.

"At least today nothing melted down." When he said nothing, she continues, "There's no need to be upset, brother. There is just simply no way to put Magic in something without life for long. Why else would we have mana, and the rocks not? We are the tools through which greater powers acts upon the world-"

"I know the stories. But still, I feel it!" The boy looks down at his hands, gripping them tightly. "When magic is formed, doesn't it want a container? Something to fill it, give it shape?"

"Yes, and that's us-"

"But why not something else? I'm certain, I'm so close! There's no need to use complex rituals and arrangements for such simple tasks if parts of the magic are permanent. We can do better; so why not try?"

"You do love to tinker so, brother. But you've been hanging around the artificers too long. What good is an astrolabe or some quaint mechanical oddity to a mage? You've been blessed with this education; you know they don't like to see your eccentric behaviours. And I don't like trying to explain them."

"And now you're even talking like them. Get out of here, sister. Perhaps you should run to that Maester's son I've seen you chatting with so welcomingly-"

She hurls several unflattering names and hard stones at him as she left, but the boy looks unconcerned. As light smile plays upon his lips despite the many setbacks he must have faced.

But now he sits alone on the warm sand, and the sun sets over the sea and the water laps at his toes.

Though I can not see into his mind, his desire is clear from his longing look. He gazes at his experiment hopefully. It does not seem he can attempt another try without his sister's aid, but still he hopes.

He draws some figures in the sand, some ancient math I cannot comprehend. Suddenly his eyes light up, as if chancing upon some minor eureka.

"Ah... And so, if I were to..." Muttering to himself he waves his open hand at the pile of brass and alloy.

When the pile shifts, he pauses.

He quickly takes a look.

The contraption is not as he left it. I suspect it has tilted in the shifting sands but he remains suspicious.

His eyes narrow and, like a true scientist, he repeats the gesture, this time observing with careful gaze.

Two pieces fall together with a clank.

Mesmerized he passes his hand back and forth. Soon his experiment is in noisy pieces, spread across the sandy beach.

And he is lost in awe.

I can understand his emotion. They first time I did magic without Magic, I too was overwhelmed.

"No. No." His voice shakes along with his head. "This is too simple. This is cheating. This cannot be."

Suddenly he looks carefully across the dunes.

"So... No one is playing a trick? N-no, of cousse, I... I could have sensed their Magic anyway, even if it were the Grand Maester himself."

He looks down at his hand again.

His expression is equal parts anguish and longing.

I think, like I first did, he almost rejected his gift and ran from it. Was it fear of the unknown? Disgust at all the effort his discovery had made obsolete? I doubt I will know.

What matters is he decided to test it. Almost as an afterthought he clenches his fist, still raised towards the remains of his work.

The metal suddenly swirls together, kicking up a cloud, and he fights to keep from letting go of his abruptly raging power. The pieces mould and shape, melt and twist, become engraved with new patterns, the channels through which his magic would soon flow.

In seconds a new design was complete.

Now I recognize his work. It is a to be a vessel of energy, nothing more complicated than a well to store and draw power. I see countless small innovations unleashed at once: the boy likely had the idea right from the start, lacking only the fine manipulation needed.

Though shaking with exhaustion, he opens up his hand and lets his mana flow. It is likely the very last of his strength, from the whiteness of his deeply tanned face.

And when his contraption spins and spins and spins in the dying light, he rocks upon the sand in unbridled joy.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

Over several nights, this is what I have compiled. He reminds me of myself so much when I was even younger. Experimenting with a gift, excited with the possibility of his power. I just hope _his_ does not lead him to ruin. At least now I understand better this dream and its purpose, as a revisiting of my own past. I don't know why it has come together for me like this, as a narrative of sorts, but father always said I had a flair for the dramatic.

Still.

None of the few basic texts he has let me read mentions any period like this in Magical lore, but that is not conclusive evidence either way. I reserve judgment, but still, something tells me this is not my imagination at work. I've dreamed before. Usually nightmares, but this is different. This just feels real, too strange but too real, for my mind to fabricate.

From what furtive questions I ask my father, dreams of real things are not unknown in Magic. In each case, it is nearly always a deliberate invocation by another upon a test subject or a victim, or otherwise based on an accidental casting of magic. Since the former is unlikely, and the latter in my particular case laughably impossible, he wondered why I asked. Of course I refused to explain; told him I've been having nightmares. He tried to comfort me but I think he suspects something.

There isn't much to suspect, in truth, and even less for me to explain should he ask. Though he isn't overly pious when compared to the rest of the cabal, I doubt he'd subscribe to the notion of divine revelation in my case.

So for now, I will say no more to him. It is all just impression at this point. I may dream this dream forever, something new, or I may stop entirely. Though I still do not know what this dream could even really be about, I have learned enough to do my own searching if I grow curious. Even if I dream the same dream again tonight, at least I will feel better for having done this.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 2: Soaring**

Date: January 18th

"Uncle Daedalus! Uncle Daedalus!"

The first thing I hear as the dream begins is a boy, shouting as he bounds up a spiralling set of tower stairs, circling higher and higher. He looks familiar, almost but not quite the boy I saw in the previous dream. His clothes are even similar, though of more refined make and richness.

He brushes past two seniors, ignoring their pointed frowns. I am not certain if it is the energy of youth that offends them, or the mentioned name. But the boy continues, past several floors of workshops all the way to the tower's peak.

He reaches an extensive chamber containing dozens of elaborate constructs. Some are in the shape of animals, some men, others completely unrecognizable, but all are primarily of brass, golden brown and shining. The boy ignores these wonders to run straight towards a hunched man.

Above this man's head and worktable spins a constellation of brass stars and gears, defying gravity.

The man does not turn, lost in his craft, but manages to maintain his power despite the boy leaping onto his back. With practised ease he sets down his work and the boy alike, chiding as he does so. His face is familiar, and I realize he is the boy on the beach a grown man.

"Now, now, Perdix. When I am at work, you call me...? Hmmmm?"

"S-sorry, sir, Grand Maester!"

"And don't you forget it!" The man cackles in good humour, lines of amusement creasing his face. "If you want to become a Maester like me, you must respect your elders and betters, you know! Now, where is she? Your mother sent word-"

"I am here, foolish brother." The woman cresting the stairs wore a gentle smile as she sweeps into the room, also shorn in Maester's robes. "Your nephew is an energetic boy, while we grow old and slow."

"Not too old yet, my sister. Tell me, how goes your work with the animals, hmm? Ohoho, yes, last I heard you were still mucking about with transformative magic."

"I'm moving onto avian types, brother. And natural magic is an ancient and well-respected field."

"Not for long, it isn't." He turns away and misses her frown as he tries to shoo away the boy from a particularly delicate construct. "Mechanics and artifacts are the future! Mark my words, you would do well to give up your historic diversion. Now, dearest sister, what truly brings you-"

"Your automaton crushed another sheep. And nearly a shepherd."

The Grand Maester spits on the floor and resumes his work. "Bah. It is not my problem if a pasture fence breaks. Talos is programmed only to defend the coastline."

"And terrorize the population. They stand in awe of you, brother, but also in fear."

"And well they should! They are lost in their pastoral ways. They need to respect our powers, like the King does. And it is by his orders that I work to protect us from the mainland, for everyone's sake!"

"As you remind me countless times."

Before his sister could argue further, her young son tugged on his uncle's hem. "Grand Maester Daedalus, what are you working on now?"

"Ah, good. Ever curious! Good, boy, good, Mmhmm..." The man ushers the boy to his tower's open balcony, kneeling down to raise three fingers as they meet the open air. "My answer is a riddle. Talos defends our seas and our soliders the land, but what last frontier is Minos and Crete vulnerable from?"

"Brother, this is not time-"

"The sky!"

Daedalus nods with pleasure. "Why, yes! Very good. And I suppose you are aware-"

"Though common soldiers can only invade by land and sea, foreign Maester's skilled enough to master the flying arts could drop down and attack behind our defensive forces, right Uncle?"

The Grand Maester's face flinches. Something fleeting shadows his smile. "How precocious. Or have I been talking too much when over for dinner...? No matter, but yes. You are right, child. My plan is to conquer the skies fully, so that no military may ever pose a threat. Progress must march on."

"Can I help, Uncle, can I?"  
"Grand Maester. And perhaps, Perdix, if you complete your education, in some years you may find yourself an assistant to my work! Now, run along child, I'm certain you've theory to practice."

With great energy the boy runs away, leaving his mother to sigh at his fading footsteps. "At least you encourage his education, but must you put such dreams in his mind? For Maester's, true flight is one thing, but what you propose-" [1]

"Is nothing an artifact cannot overcome. Just trust me, sister. I will show you as I showed our teachers."

"And the wheel continues to spin..."  
"What exactly do you mean by that?"  
"Your competitive nature, brother. First it was proving the other students wrong, then the teachers, and then the men who were your peers. The men and women who should be your allies you distrust, and they distrust you in kind. And now you would seek to compete with Perdix? I am only glad Icarus chose the warrior's life, to spare him your attitude."

"Hmmm! I am not competitve! I just do not stand being held back, yes. I have no plans to compete with a child, sister. Just wait and see, ooh-ho... Ah, speaking of my other nephew, how has he fared? I had hopes to employ him in-"  
And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

I am both relieved and concerned. The first dream is gone, but to be replaced by another? What does it mean, and why does it seem to follow the same boy as before, grown up? What story is my tortured mind weaving?

At the very least, I have been able to identify some truth in my dreams. I asked a Free Member of the cabal go out and bring me a book of mundane history; it was an innocent enough request, so they actually agreed.

What I learned is that I appear to be romanticizing the historic life of an actual person. Or at least, a mythical one. Daedalus, the Greek inventor. I had no idea he had such a Magic past. Though he might not have, honestly; I cannot really trust these dreams.

At the very least, they are a distraction from the everyday boredom of life in the compound. It gives me something to do aside from cleaning.

Perhaps I should go into a writing career.

Painful joking aside, I await tonight's dream. Let us see how this story progresses, if it chooses to. For good or ill, I doubt I have much choice.

!~~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 3: Clipped**

Date: January 23rd

At first, I see nothing. It is black, as if I am lost in the depth of night. I know I am asleep, but no longer in my own bed.

Then a candle is struck, and a shape appears in a dark room. He is shrouded in dark robes, but seems to nearly shake under their shadow.

Finally it speaks.

"Uncle, I do not think-"

"Hmmm? What was that, I might have heard?"

For a long moment, there was silence. My eyes adjust to the darkness, and I make out a large workroom, full of mechanical oddities. Across from the first man stands another, but he is terribly stooped, bent over as if in deep pain. His shape is obscured by a heavy cloak, once fine but now clearly tattered and patched half-heartedly.

A cool wind plays through the room, disturbing dust on projects long left abandoned. I get the sense that they are in a tower, empty aside from the two men. The quiet is deep, as it only is in quiet places that once knew bustle and life.

The first voice speaks again, as I am distracted.

"...Grand Maester. Is this course wise?"

The Grand Maester does not move, hunched over scribbled plans on animal hide, not bothering to even turn to his nephew. "Hmmm, yes, better. And you are correct; you do not think, Perdix. That is my role." But even then, he shrugged a little.

A movement accompanied by a peculiar grinding of metal on metal.

Perdix sighed inaudibly and shook his head. "Sir, I do not know what purpose I serve here. You have me working at the simplest of tasks. How can I help-"

"You want to take this from me? Is that it!? This is MY victory!" With blinding speed the Grand Maester crosss the room, taking his nephew by the collar and lifting him near from the floor. The hand that clutched him spun and steamed, pistons firing and churning. I realize with horror that it is false, inhuman. And from under a hood, two equally unholy red orbs glowed.

"No! No, uncle, please!" Perdix averts his eyes as I only wish I could, the haunting glow playing across his cheeks. But the glow slowly weakens in intensity.

"...Ohohoho. Is it my face that disturbs you so?"

"I-I am sorry... I am not yet used to your, your current form..."

"It is a marvel, is it not? The process is of interest, I admit, but you must adjust to the future. It is permanent. Much like that work your mother has not yet abandoned." In sudden good humour the Grand Maester let his nephew go, who welcomed the ground's solid embrace on hands and knees. The limb of mangled metal disappeared back under a heavy cloak. "How much better to shed you human flesh for perfect artifice than be forever a clucking bird, is it not so!? Ohohohoho!"

"I do not know who else could do what you have done, Sir." Perdix speaks now with awe, and more than a touch of apprehension. "Your mastery of brass is so total... I do not see how anyone else could live in such a body."

"Perhaps." The blunt answer seemed set to end their conversation, but abruptly the old man in the unearthly continues. "So it seems you grow impatient."

"Grand Maester, I am sorry. I did not-"

"No matter. So do I. My previous test ended in failure, and I am anxious to start anew. Tonight."

"Truly?" Yet Perdix hesistates. "...But Uncle, was not my brother Icarus working with you last?"

"It is of no consequence. He failed to listen to my instructions. Though at least, it was valuable learning that daytime operation is not feasible yet."

"I-I do not understand-"

"You do not need to." The Grand Maester swept across the floor, towards a covered stand of armour, accompanied again by the sound of metal softly shifting and spinning. By the time the young man had caught up the cover was swept aside. "You must simply wear this artifact."

The young man gasps, breathless, as the suit of armour is unveiled before him. Its polished chest plate, bracers, and greaves gleam despite the dim candlelight, hammered thin and emblazoned with runes and crests. But the true marvel for his eyes were the wings, fashioned on brass bones and ladened with purified wax and carefully balanced pinions and feathers. At the Grand Maester's simple gesture the suit steps from its frame as if given life, standing before the startled Perdix like a soldier at the ready.

"...U-uncle..."

"Is it not overwhelming, Perdix? Your brother thought the same." Daedalus chortles with amusement, "This is the culmination of my life's work! With this, any stupid spearman can take to the skies and strike down our foes. With enough, we might even invade the mainland, and carve out a protective empire! Minos and Crete will forever be secure!"

The man begins to straighten, and the grinding metal rises in pitch.

"...Sir, I-"

"Yes, so why must you fly it? I can fly alongside and propel it and myself at once, it is true: a simple task for one such as I. But I need to watch a simpler mind perform to adequately understand its intricacies. Though designed for any crude farmhand to understand, perhaps a Maester's touch would be best for trial runs."

Short puffs of whistling steam erupt from beneath his cloak, reveal legs of burnished brass, pistons actuating and gears whirling.

"...U-uncle-"

"I'm sure you can see the consequences, Perdix! This will revolutionize not just our land, but the world! The King may be old and cowardly, but I am certain I can manipulate his heir. And from there, I can remake this land! I can make this city, this nation, into one of my clockwork perfections, and then-"

The mechanical racket is now almost deafening, but still I manage to make out the younger man's voice.

"Grand Maester, I do not think it will work."

So too did his master.

The whirling, grinding, clanking brass ceased. The steam died down.

But the glow in the Grand Maester's eyes only grew.

"H-hmmm?" Slowly, ever slowly, he turned towards his assistant. "What... Do you say?"

"This suit is a marvel, but it is so... Complex! A single arrow, let alone a spell, could disrupt the symbolism and send the solider crashing to the ground. The wax on the wings could not last an hour in the sunlight, ignoring any direct attacks. And no farmhand I have ever met would step into this of their own will, they would crash in panic after their first flight; it would be hard enough for me! And I cannot imagine drawing a bow or hurling a spear-"

"Is that what you think."

Perdix pauses.

He must feel the same chill in the air as I.

"...G-Grand Maester, I do not mean to criticize, but I merely-"

Before he could finish his excuse I hear a pounding of feet and a chorus of cries. Both men turn and, moving to the balcony, see a waving sea of torches lighting the stone path to their tower.

"What did you do!?" A metal hand lashes out to Perdix's throat, closing around with vice-like intensity.

"N-n!?"

"Who did you tell!?" The Grand Maester's eyes burned red, but there was no warmth to be found.

The young chokes out and answer, frantic with fear. "I-I merely told Mother I thought your work dangerous, I said nothing more-"

"FOOL!" The grip tightens as the mob approaches, battering down the reinforced door to his lair.

"U-Unc... Please...!"

The young man struggles amid the rising hue and cry.

But after a moment, the Grand Maester looses his grip.

"Do not fear. You merely reveal your usefulness."

For a moment, hope shown in the young man's eyes.

Until a hand plunges deep into his chest.

I wish to look away, but cannot: as always I have no control of these dreams. So I merely watch as Perdix slips to the ground, clutching at a wound that isn't there. His shirt is pierced, but when he removes his hand it is not blood that is revealed.

Instead through his torn robes, there is a patchwork of brass mechanics. "W-what!? U-Uncle, what-"

"I am so great an artificer that I can make a use for even you. I never told you how I gained this body, did I? Now you shall see! Hmmmm, yes... I will have to mine your memories later, to compare your experiences to mine. Ohohohoho..." As he speaks, the Grand Maester discards his robes, revealing his own body had been overcome by the same effect. He stands as if proud of his horrible dis-figuration. I only wish I could recoil.

"U-uncle, my skin!? What have you done!?" Tearing back his clothes Perdix watches the metal spread like an infection, taking over. And as it twists his body in unholy ways he lurches as if wracked with pain like fire. His is driven to his hands and knees.

His uncle stands over the gasping figure, ripping him from the ground with one mighty heave. "I have begun your transformation. As you will do to the next, once your body is malleable enough for my control. So as I have said, you have one final use, nephew." He holds the body over of the balcony railing, to the sound of shocked cries below. "Go, and begin my ordering of the world!"

The twitching body of his nephew hanging over his enemies, the Grand Maester laughs with glee.

"Ohohohoho! Now, fly!"

And he lets go.

With a rush of wind the young man disappears from sight.

Eyes closed, Daedalus waits in expectation.

But there is no crash of metal.

No panicked outcry.

Instead, all I can hear is the sound of rapidly flapping wings, mingled with awed shouts from below.

Equally puzzled, Daedalus leans over the ledge, looking down at the unexpected mystery.

"...A bird? But how...?"

"Daedalus!"

He turns to the source of the heart wrenching cry. In the middle of his workshop is a middle-aged woman, on her knees as tears stream behind her hands.

"Aah, it is just you, sister." He turns his back on her again, looking down at the squawking bird just now landing amongst the confused mob "Hmm, yes... Your work has progressed far. You transformed him quicker than I, and from such distance. Ohohohoho, I wonder if I could adapt such-"

"You monster!" He flinched, as if feeling the unseen jabbed of her accusing finger, "You monster! You made me do this, made me curse my second son! Now I am childless, and it is your pride's doing!" [2]

"W-whatever do you-"

"We found Icarus's body drifting ashore, along with your first failed artifact!" Despite her grief she spits at him, drawing forth her magic though blinded by tears. "In the name of all that's good we've come to stop you, you monster!

"But sister, surely you must understand the sacrifices that-"

"You are no brother of mine!" And through her anguish, I can see something deeper emerge.

I think I see pity in her eyes.

"...What happened to the curious boy I knew? What made you like this?"

For a moment, I can see into the Grand Maester's mind. I see a boy on a beach, and a mind full of promise. I picture a day when his life took off like a bird in flight.

Straight into a hunters net.

And in that instant, if for just an instant, the man known as Daedalus might have remembered what it was to feel regret.

"...S-sister, I-"

"Where is he!? By the King's order, we must put him to the sword!"

"He's gone too far!"

"He's up here, up here!"

Voices echoing from the stairs were soon followed by marching feet. Dozens of solders, peasants, men and women in elaborate robes arrayed behind his sister in regimented order. As one they readied themselves, levelled weapons and preparing magic.

It is too late. The hesitation that Daedalus felt must surely have faded, for his what remains of his human expression has turned to twisted wrath.

"...No, no! I have gone so far, i cannot stop now!" He sweeps to his feet, ripping aside their weapons with his power. At once a dozen constructs churn to life, diving into the invaders with reckless abandon. "I will not be stopped!"

The two forces clash. I watch many men and woman fight and die.

But still they come.

"Hypocrites! You welcomed my artifacts! You made me your leader!"

Their pooling blood spills down on the stairs, making the stairs slick to the struggling reinforcements.

But still they come.

"You loved my automatons enough, my constructs!? How is this different!?"

His machines are smashed, one by one, and his strength wanes. No matter how many he kills, they come.

And as he shatters, was ripped apart upon his workshop floor like some failed experiment, and as his glowing eyes grow dim like spent coals, Daedalus curses for the first time the gift that had enticed him to this path.

So Daedalus died.

But there remains an impression. Something lingering, afterwards.

It is terrible.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

It is abrupt when it ends. Every night I dreamed this dream I woke in bed, covered in sweat when the last impression hits. I am still not certain what I experience, moments before waking; this is best impression I can muster. "It is terrible", yes, but not exactly malign. Just overwhelming, an overbearing force I can hardly describe.

I no longer suspect these dreams are fabrication. The one in particular felt far too real, even more-so than the last. I do not care what the history books say. This is the truth.

Yet one truth still eludes me. What is the point of all this? Is it done, now that the monster he became died? Is this some fear of my own future?

I pray that this marks the end of my ordeal.

I now close this journal, hopefully for the last time. I only wish I could bring myself to destroy it.

[Orsola's note: This following sections appears to have been added in at a later date, much more heavily inked than the other text in the journal. It appears to be correlated to the corrected '12 Days of Christmas' prophecy, summarily listed and translated as Supplemental Attachment A. I have underlined the known line from the prophecy, and bolded the other, less familiar writing. It also seems distinct from the many body of the journal, but as of now its meaning is unclear.]

 **It is terrible and dread.**

On the First Day of Christmas: The Partridge wailing.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **The Second Summon:**

 **Subject:** Agnes, Green Witch of Woolpit / Unidentified brother(?)

 **Temporality:** 1100-1200, Exact dates unclear.

 **Capabilities:** Gemstone/Magician Hybrid, paired variant.

 **Gemstone Ability:** Unknown, tentatively ranked Level 3 and named "Floral Emergence". Agnes and her brother represent something unique, even among the already divergent summons. It seems like, to a limited degree, they share their powers. However, from preliminary observation the boy seems to possess the Gemstone Ability to transform into a monstrous plant, capable of rapid growth and significant violence. It is far from unstoppable, and his power seems limited to his own body, making it more of a transformation than a traditional effect. It also seems tied to his emotions, as his plant form has only ever been seen in a murderous rage.

 **Magical Skills:** Agnes, Green Witch of Woolpit, already has an extensive dossier in the Necessarius archives. Briefly speaking, she is considered a highly dangerous manipulator, with expertise in curses, charms, and Fae symbolism. Though by now much of her magic is outdated, she remains a potent threat in conjunction with her brother. Whether through complex magic, a Gemstone ability of her own, or some other poorly understood connection, she can manipulate her brother once in his plant form, and even bring it about on her whim. She further can charm herself ethereal and ride parasitically inside his durable body.

 **Conclusion:** Whether alone or together, these two present a serious threat. Reports suggest that Agnes does most of the thinking in their duo; this may present a possible weakness. As of now we are investigating the possibility that the two are not merely siblings but in fact twins: one dying decades before the other. If so, this may have profound implications on the nature of Magic and Ability both. For present purposes, the most effective means of countering them seems to be either overwhelming force or deception.

 **Additional notes:** If the information found in Miss Baker's journal, Addendum 2, is to believed, Necessarius's historical perspective of the Green Witch may require serious re-evaluation. I further suspect that it reveals the activities of an ancient cult, which in turn sheds light upon Necessarius's origins.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 4: Sprouted**

Date: January 31st

 _On the day she discovered her powers, she knew she would never fear again._

The air is damp.

I do not know how I can feel it so clearly, but that is the first sensation I register upon entering this dream. It is all I can think about, aside from my anxiety that they have not ended at all.

Next comes a feeling of hard stone, and dreary dimness. It is stifling. Oppressive. It is all too familiar.

But these memories are not mine. I see now an unfamiliar stone hallway, cells barred with thick iron grates. Water drips endless from the walls, feeding thin patches of moss. A single torch flickers far away, but my vision is locked on a pair of cells, side by side and separated by a thick wall.

It is so dark that even once my eyes have adjusted, I can barely make out the two small figures. Though I can not see them, I immediately see one is a boy, and the other a girl. They are disturbingly young.

The boy is shuffling on a bed of dirty cloth, as if restless in sleep.

The girl sits with its back to the adjoined wall. It is otherwise motionless.

I do not know how long I watch, but my view shifts to her. Her face is blank as she stares at the ground of her prison, but I feel something inside her burning. Abruptly a noise from behind her jolts her alert, and her head turns. She waits, until she hears a voice.

"...A-are you awake? I had... A nightmare...!" The boy speaks softly, shivering with fear or cold. I note that I understand him, but the sounds she makes are completely unfamiliar. I wonder briefly where my dreams have taken me this time.

Hearing him as I do, the girl does not quite smile. "Yes. I had one too. But they are not that bad." But any joy soon passes as she hears the hesitant fear in the voice of the other.

"...Please... I have something... To show you... I'm scared...! Help me!"

From her calm expression this is not entirely unusual. But she betrays no annoyance as she quickly spins around to face the wall. "Hush, hush... It's all right, come to the hole." She lays her body on the ground, pushing her thin arm through an unseen crack between their cells. "The hole, quickly now!" The boy's sniffling quickens to the brink of tears, but he obeys, and I see him do the same. "Let me feel your hand. There. See? I'm here. It's all-right."

Slowly, ever slowly, he recovers. Though I cannot see, I can only imagine she is stroking his hand with tender affection.

But soon her expression changes. She pauses, and withdraws her hand.

It is holding something now, but it is too dark to make it out.

"What is this?"

"...I... Don't know... I woke up, and... It was...!"

"Hush, hush, it's okay..." She soothes his growing anxiety automatically, her slender fingers running up and down the object. I share her touch somehow: it is something stiff and smooth, but suddenly her finger is pricked. "Ah!"

"Ah!? A-are you okay, d-d-d-did I-?"

"No, no, it is alright! Don't cry, they'll come, don't cry!" She rushes to calm him, gently chiding her own outburst. "It was just a shock, not painful at all. Not compared..." Her eyes drift to the hallway, barely lit by the flickering torchlight.

But no one approaches.

"I-I'm... Sorry..." The boy's voice is softer than ever. "...Do... Do you like it?"

"I don't know. The pain was unpleasant." The girl is cautious now, turning over the object. If the one end was stiff and thin, the other is delicate and expansive. "... But I've never felt anything so soft. I like that. And it…" She brings it to her nose. "It smells very sweet. Like nothing I've ever smelt."

"R-really...?" His tones takes on a surprising lightness. "It... You can have it."

"A gift? Thank you." She briefly smiles at his innocence, taking hold of her boon more tightly. She ignores the pain, and it soon abates. It reminds her she is alive.

Again I share in her sensations. It is an unusual experience, but I also gain insight into her mind. She is curious about the gift, intently so, but not merely for curiosity's sake. I get the impression she is driven by something. Seeking an answer; or perhaps a way out.

And after focusing on her gift, turning it over in her mind, I feel it move in our shared hands.

She is as surprised as I to find it suddenly wriggle. She drops it, and it flops to the floor.

In the quiet of their cells the boy hears it well. "Is... Is something wrong?"

"No... No, hold on." She takes hold again, and as her palm tenderly smooths out its ruffled petals, I finally recognize her gift as a flower.

She does not seem to share my epiphany, but instead again takes it into her hand. I can tell she is hiding her surprise and fear and pain as she grips it tightly; her face is a mask even as her pulse quickens.

I can feels her warm blood trickling down her palm, and she watches it intently.

She focuses, and it dances again. This goes on for several minutes. Though at first as hesitating as myself and Daedalus was, she gradually explores the extent of her control. Her magic without Magic.

"...I... Feel strange..."

"Hmm?" The girl looks up, distracted from her experimentation by the strange sounds coming from the adjoining cell. "Is something the matter?'

"When... When you do that, I feel... Different."

"Bad? Does it hurt? Should I stop?" Her questions are rushed, and he quickly answers.

"No! No... Its feel right. But... Is... Is this like what the bad people are doing?"

"What do you mean?"

There is a long pause. Finally he shuffles in his cell, grasping for the hole again. She turns and meets his hand.

And when her own withdraws, she is bearing another flower.

I can see her hesitate. I can _feel_ her hesitate. She is on the cusp of something, but I do not know what.

"...No. We are not the bad people, so it can't be the same." When she answers it is decisive. "When they do things to us, it hurts, doesn't it? But this is different."

"Oh... Of course, you... Are right!"

"Good. Now, can you do it more?"

"Uhm... M-maybe. ...Why?"

"I will make us safe. This is our best chance. Trust me."

"...Okay."

A good length of time passes. I can see little, but I sense something strange.

The water drips down the wall. The moss feeds. And something else grows.

But eventually, they are interrupted.

Loud brash voices carry from down the hall, back by the flickering light.

"Ah, wait! Ah, should we tell them?" It is the little boy, filled with nervous energy. "They might finally let us go if we tell them!"  
"No!" She feels him flinches from her touch at her harsh tone, so she calms herself. "No... We can't. We can't trust them. We must break free now."

"N-now!? ...B-but I'm... scared...!"

"There is no time!" She whispers harshly as booted feet approach. "Do it more! More! We need to be free! We must fight! We must hurt them! We hate them!"

He rustles in his cell, pressing closer and closer to the wall. "It... I-I-I..."

"Your hand! Give me your hand!" She is scrabbling on the floor now, and I can feel a rush of vines running up and along her arm. I recognize for the first time the hate seething through her thoughts; it grows and grow and grows.

So focused is my dream on the girl and boy that the newcomers only now come into clarity. It is a man and a woman, already standing outside the cells, the former fumbling to light a hooded lantern.

The woman laughs cruelly. "Shoulda just brought the torch." I recognize their English now, and grow more confused.

"Quiet. I don't like the way the girl's eyes look at me, alright? This way I can just shine where's I needs it." For the first time, I see him hear the strange noises from inside the cells, and he kicks the barred gate angrily. "What they hell are you two making such a racket for!?"

The woman sighs. "Jabbering nonsense at each other, acting like you understand; I damn well hope the Leader is right about you two."

His comrade spins back as he finally lights his lantern, shining it directly into her eyes. "You know better! Do not question the Leader. He has the vision to let us rule England; all we need is the right weapon. These magical experiments must pay off, they must!"

"G-get that out of my face!" She shoves him away, stepping back. "Just get them out of there already."

Though muttering, the man reaches for his keys, unlatching the door with a clank. "Right, you two know the drill. Step lively, now...?"

A low growl stills his hand.

It is disturbingly deep.

It is disturbingly loud.

And it seemed to fill the entire cell.

Something shuffles noisily inside and by instinct he raises his lantern's beam.

What follows next is a blur.

There is carnage and confusion. It lasts many minutes, and through a haze of anger and pain and I follow an extraordinary whirl of confusion.

I regain clarity in a much larger chamber, filled with bodies. The boy and girl crouch in the open floor, staring anxiously at a cracked door. He is paralyzed, but she is more alive than I had seen her before, clutching at her sides to still her laughter.

From outside breathes a sweet breeze. There is no one left to stand between them and escape.

Finally the girl stands. Wordlessly she grasps her brother, ignoring his hesitation, and she pulls him outside. I can feel her heart pounding with elation as she sweeps into the unknown.

The sky is overcast: the girl stumbles on unseen obstacles, still pulling along her brother.

They run and run in the night.

Finally they break out of the clustered obstacles into a what must be a small town situated in a forest clearing. Simple thatched huts sit in the darkness of early morning, and the first few villagers are already out.

Some notice the noise of the child, coming to investigate. The girl gives them no chance, running back the way she came.

Yet they are chased, and soon the scattered villagers become a small force of shouting men. They encircle the two children, herding them. Their shouts turn from wonder and concern to anger and fear.

The girl must know they will hurt them; why else would she run so desperately?

Soon flight is impossible. They enter a second clearing as the sun begins to rise, and she is hemmed in on three sides by scattered townsfolk and the other by a tall, steepled building.

She wants to fight. I feel it.

But she is so tired, and the boy more.

Still when finally trapped, she stands ready. The emotions swirling through her, and she tries to force the near comatose boy to feel the same through sheer force of will.

They approach, weapons levelled, when a large shape bursts from the building behind them.

"What is the meaning of this!?" A large bearded man strides forth, looming over the children with a torch. She flinches, but has no strength to react.

Yet the rest of the crowd does; some with fear, others anger.

"We drove them here! They come from the woods!"

"They must be Fae, fairy folk; vile, dangerous creatures!"

"Put them to the sword! They'll steal our children-"

"ENOUGH!" The man's booming voice commands utter silence, and he glares across the congregation. "They are on holy ground. No one shall harm them!"

A debate follows, but the girl is too tired to follow. I feel her hollow resignation as she slumps against the church stairs, cradling her the boy's head in her lap.

So when a hand gently alights up her shoulder, she is unable to react. She stares blankly into the kindly eyes of a monk, a wooden cross dangling from his neck by a hempen string.

He speaks carefully, as softly as he can manage. "My child... Are you all right? Is that your brother?"

"B...Brother?" She apes his word; both I and the priest see her lack of understanding.

"You poor girl... Whatever has been done to you?"

She looks confused.

But as the dawn fully breaks, the girl catches something strange from the corner of her eye.

She looks down at her hand, still clutching her brother's gift, seeing them both for the first time in the clear light of day.

They share a shade of green.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

This dream was long and confusing. I am grateful in some ways that it follows a different narrative than before, but it is bleakly disturbing in its own right. I only hope the story of these children does not end so poorly as the last.

I don't like to think about it, but lately I have been recalling the first time I discovered my own magic without Magic. That strange affinity for toys and controlling them. I remember being so delighted and proud when I told Father.

I wonder if, despite their substantive nature, these dreams are nothing more than an unconscious reflection of my own situation. The parallels are (Orsola's note: The line abruptly ends.)

I should not say more. Who knows who may find this one day?

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 5: Rooted**

Date: February 6th

I see a familiar church.

It is daylight, this dream. It has grown dishevelled, somewhat overrun with ferns and creeper, and its simple gate hangs from a broken hinge.

But abruptly a young woman bursts through the front door. She wears a simple peasant dress, her thick hair tied up in a neat bun. From one arm dangles a basket, filled with several jars of honey. She is a beauty, but that is not the only characteristic that would stand her out in a crowd.

Her skin is entirely green.

I am certain now: this dream connects to the one with the girl and boy, prisoners in the basement. Even her expression is familiar; careful, alert, but now surprisingly confident. She basks a moment, drinking in the noonday light, seeming to strengthen like a wilting flower.

(Orsola's note: The original journal has a thin line drawn to the margins, circling and underlining the following of text:)

(The metaphor is more apt than I first intended.)

She wastes little more time before she strides down the stairs and into a copse of trees.

I watch her eyes cast up along the trees, enjoying the twittering of birds and the rustling of woodland creatures. She laughs as they dart near her feet, real joy on her lips.

But that fades with the treeline as she comes out into a clearing.

Within is the same village as before, and the same townsfolk as before.

It must have been many years since the night she ran into their world with her brother: she is nearly a grown woman. Some smile and a few children wave: she responds in kind. Most simply ignore her, but she still receives an ample helping of distrustful stares.

But no one accosts her, and they remain ignored in kind. Pridefully she stalks through the village square, making straight passage to a single shop.

She presses through a simple doorway, barred by a hanging flap of leather, into a workshop. Wood-working tools of every variety hang from hooks and leather straps, and the floor is cluttered with broken furniture.

A burly man looming over a splintered chair straightens. He turns, flinching for a moment, but soon is smiling openly.

"...Ah, Miss Agnes! More business from the good Father, have ye?"

She smiles. I can see how false it is without riding in her mind.

"Yes; our gate is loose again. I've brought honey if you'll mend it."

"Hmmm... Two jars."

"A deal."  
They shake, though his eye glance down at her touch. She notices the way he pulls his hand away, I can tell. I suspect he does too, for he coughs.

"Ah, I've must say, used to be I'd ask for twice as much, and that was when the gate was still new. Since you've two come around, though, the honey's the sweetest I've ever tasted."

"Thank you; we work hard to remain useful to Father."

She has already made her way to the door, but he calls again.

"And, ah, how's yer brother? My son, he's always asking after him and you, seeing as-"

"Well. He is well."

"Ah. That's good, then. He's a sweet child, but when I last saw him I can't recall-"

"I must go. Have a good day, carpenter."

The man's hand half-lifts as the flap of leather swings shut behind the girl. "R-right..."

But Agnes, as she seems to be named, has already gone back out into the square. She moves through the village, but when she comes to the forest's edge I hear a voice call out.

"Child of the forest, wait! Let me see you!"

She turns, and a short, wizened woman comes into view. Her skin is pockmarked with age and liver-spots, and her thin limbs tremble despite the summer warmth. And yet, she seems lively, approaching quickly despite Agnes' obvious hesitation to pour over her, greedily searching her with questing eyes.

"Yes, yes, you are a strange one! Exactly what I am looking for..."

"Who are you, hag?"

The blunt welcome does not blunt the old woman's spirit. "Mmm... I am not from around here. Most folk do not like my kind." She broke into a toothless grin. "I suspect you know the feeling, yes?"

"State what you want."

"Very well." The woman plops heavily on a large root at Agnes' feet, who in turn makes a face of disgust. "I heard of a group around these parts, dedicated to ancient craft for generations, had been wiped out. I sought their enclave, to wrest some secrets from their lifeless grasp."

The young girl says nothing.

"I managed to find it, yes I did; an old abandoned keep deep in the woods. I rummaged through their the place for a spell, but didn't find altogether much. Just a few odd notes, detailing a half-baked plan. Apparently the fool had gotten it into their heads that they could undermine the religion and government of this land if they just had a strong enough weapon."

Still she is silent, but I see her look back to village; no one is near.

"And yet! Despite their foolishness, they had some success. One of them, long ago, stumbled upon someone who's power was different from their craft. Someone who's power was natural, without training. They managed to overcome and capture this person, hoping to replicate the secret. Naturally they failed; it was something very different from what they knew as Magic."

Agnes reaches behind her back as the old woman prattles, and lets her hand fall again.

"Still, they persisted, and eventually learned this person had a child. It was not long until they decided to capture the child as well, as leverage. But it came to not; the captive died and took his secret with him. But, they still had the child. They began to wonder; if it what their captive said was true, that he really did not have to learn his strange ability... Perhaps it was something in his blood?"  
The girl crosses over to the old woman as she speaks, sitting on the root next to her as if in rapt interest.

"So they raise the child as their own. They are forlorn when she displays no talent like her father, despite all their experiments. But she is now one of them, and to secure her own usefulness and life, she persists in hoping that perhaps her children might bear the gift. So begins several generations of further experiments, on successive generations of children. They were patient, I'll give them that! Quite patient..."

Agnes watches as the old woman closes her eyes, lost in memory. Her hand shifts behind her back again.

"If you'll allow me to get to the matter at hand, they eventually succeeded in something strange. One descendent of the original captive finally gave birth to something strange. Yet it was a disaster; they may have been twins, and thus already unnatural already, but their only distinguishing feature was their-"

The short blade in Agnes' hand flashed out, straight into the woman's back.

But it passed through nothing but air, and the young woman crashed to the ground. Pulling herself up, she saw the old hag she had been sitting next to shimmer briefly, and then fade.

And now standing over her, with toothless grin, smiled the old woman.

"That would be you and your brother, would it not? I was right; my business is with you after all."  
Scrambling for her feet, Agnes readies her weapon, chest heaving with fright and anger. "You will! Not hurt him! Get away, witch, or I-I'll..."

"Oh, calm yourself." The woman scratches behind her ear, completely ignoring the danger the quivering knife might still hold. "I'm not here to kill you. If I was, you'd have died in your sleep, and all would think it a sudden illness. That's how witches prefer to work."

The point of the blade drops a notch. "Y-you really are...?"

"Well, yes. Why do you think I told you that rambling story? I'd prefer if you believed me sooner rather than later. It'll be better for your brother, that way."

It raised up again, more fiercely than ever. "W-what do you mean!? Speak, now!"

"I have gone to see him."

There is a cold silence as Agnes's composure shifts, wavers, and then finally breaks. She slumps, knife falling to the ground.

"...Then you have seen what he is becoming."

"Yes... An interesting conversion. I am curious about-"

The young woman flies into a rage, taking the no-longer insubstantial hag by the neck of her cloak. "It's taking him away from me! You heartless witch, he'll-"

"You can save him."  
The shaking stopped.

"How. How can I-"

"Let me teach you. Become my apprentice, and learn my arts."  
Agnes' eyes widen, and she falls back. "What? Why... Why would this be your goal? I know nothing of what they did to us, I-I... Nothing they did worked on us, I swear!"

"They may have failed, but I don't care. I grow old." The woman holds out one arm, covered in lines; it wavers like a leaf in Fall. "I would like an interesting apprentice. All the magical experiments done on you may have had a lasting effect; I am curious woman. And if not, I can sense your drive. Like I sensed your brother's pain."

"Don't speak of him!"  
"But you will lose him if you do not act." She presses the attack, and the young woman falls onto her back. "There is a local lord I know of, looking for a bride. He grieves, having lost his betrothed. Under my guidance you will comfort him, and gain power and wealth you have never imagined. From there, we will gather the appropriate resources. You will finally be safe from people like those who tormented you. From people like me." Her grin is wicked and cruel.

"B-but I don't want power! And," Agnes wilts, like a frost-bitten bud, "How could I possibly achieve your mad scheme? I, I am hardly more attractive than you, no man in his position would ever-"

"Not in his right mind." A small glass vial appeared in the woman's hands, and she swirled the viscous syrup within. "But he won't be, not with a pinch of this in your sweet, sweet honey. He will find you irresistible, and bend heaven and hell to be with you."

"No... No, this..."

"Yes. So, is it a deal?"

The long shadow of the witch, as the sun sets behind her, falls upon Agnes. She clutches at her arms, pressing hard into herself, shrinking away.

"The thought frightens you? Afraid of what you'll become if you take the same path as your captors? Your tormentors?" The woman is the aggressive one now, forcing Agnes back into the darkening treeline. "You have reason to be. This road is dark. But tell..." The hag's eyes seem to glow in the setting sun. "Can you save your brother tending to honey bees and praying to a false god?"

There is a moment of confusion, and suddenly I am following the girl running, running through the trees.

The dream takes us back to the church, but Agnes does not venture inside. Though a warm voice calls from within, she is gone, into the Church's back yard, to a cluster of hives and a large, ramshackle shed.

There she pauses, breath ragged, heart pounding, collecting herself. She ignores the bees buzzing about her, as they come and they go on their innocent labour.

Eventually she is ready, and she steps into the shed.

It is dark inside when she opens the door. Though poorly built, it seems extra care was taken to strap layers of hide and leather to its roof, blocking out the last rays of the setting sun. I realize now I have borrowed the girl's, Agnes's eyes, and ride with her.

She does not look directly at the far wall as she steps inside to sit on a simple stool, but I hear an odd shifting noise from within. It disturbs me greatly; reminds me of some lumbering beast, barely chained.

Finally she speaks. "... I am back from the village, brother. The honey traded well. Your flowers' pollen is still the sweetest..."

It is odd to hear her voice from where I would imagine my own lips still reside, but I have little time to dwell. For as she places her basket upon the earth floor I hear a strange susurrus.

"Sss...Sssssss..."

It emanates from the other side of the shed. The girl quickly looks up, and I am forced to follow her eyes as something just out of sight stirs.

"Ssss... Ssssiiiiisssstterr...?"

"B-brother? You seem very well today. Can I get-"

"...Oooout...?"

I can feel her shock at the clarity of his words. But she fights to remain calm, looking away. "Now brother, we spoke of this. We do not want to encourage your ailment; you become even more... Desperate when in the sun, its is..."

"Waaaant... Wiiiiiiith... You..."

"...I feel the same, brother. But your condition! I can... I cannot-"

'Won't you..." She gasps now. "...Won't you help m-me?"

After a moment, my vision blurs.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

Again, this was disorienting. Perhaps I feel too akin to this Agnes' girl, to view her life dispassionately. I remember what is was like to be first taught Magic. Though I strongly suspect her training will go far, far better than mine, since from the very start I was hopeless, even before I discovered my ability. And at least she doesn't have parents to disappoint.

That is unworthy of me.

I do find it amusing that I judge myself in my own dream journal. How trite.

Still, I can also report I have identified her from history, just like Daedalus. Though in this case, Agnes the Green Witch of Woolpit certainly existed. I should have recognized someone so famous to English Magic; even I know of the bogeyman. But I did not realize she had a brother. It turns out that he died young, after both were found outside the Village of Woolpit in the 12th Century.

It is official, though. I can no longer pretend these dreams are fabrications. That is less a relief than a burden.

Now the question becomes when do I tell father? That his Magic-less daughter, the curse of the family, has been having Magic-filled dreams?

!~~~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 6: Wilted**

Date: February 11th

The setting is unfamiliar, as is the woman I follow.

This dream opens as a woman runs through a shadowy castle, dressed in conspicuous robes. Her breath is hoarse as she runs down one neglected hall after another, but her face is determined.

She soon comes to a featureless section of wall, but without hesitation pulls an undistinguished torch holder.

It bents at its mooring, and the wall swings inwards.

Wordlessly she pushes through, down into an even darker stair. The only light is at its very bottom, a sickly green glow that casts a pallor on the woman's pale face as she rapidly descends.

She ignores the ethereal lighting leaking through the cracks of an old wooden door that she eventually comes to. There she wait a moment, composing herself.

"Enter."

She blanches, surprised despite herself at the voice from within, but quickly obeys.

We are greeted by more green glow as the door swings open. It is a swirly cloud of mist and vapour, filling a large circular room. It bubbles from the surface of a putrid cauldron sitting contentedly on the room's far side, contents hissing and spitting with caustic potential.

The cloud circles a woman and a pedestal in the room's centre. On the latter is a glass container, resting over a single, somehow familiar, iron rose, reflecting the green by the cloud's glow.

But now so, for the woman who stands staring at it, motionless.

"What is it?" Agnes, as I recognize her, speaks. She has grown much older; I can see as she turns that she is no longer the scared, uncertain girl I knew. She is hard. "My pretty, you know better than to disrupt my work."

The girl bows low, tense with fear. "M-mistress. It is the Church forces. That new branch they have organized, that has been hunting us down, they come."

She flinches as Agnes approaches, unseen.

A green hand runs down her cheek, and the young woman is forced, trembling, to straighten. I see now just how young she is; hardly older than when I first saw Agnes, in that dream that seems like a lifetime ago.

She locks eyes with her Mistress, the Green Witch.

"You are so afraid?"  
There is no answer that will not condemn her. I can see her fighting the urge to run.

The green hand runs through the girl's short, brown hair.

"You are right to fear them. They have gathered power, casting aside the vulnerability of their faith for the might of Magic. They are strong, and you are weak."

The girl gulps hard. Agnes merely laughs.

"But they fear me. For I am stronger." Giving the girl a gentle tap she pulls away, ignoring the way her victim slumped in relief. "And as long as you obey me, you will be safe. And may become strong, in your own way."

"...M-mistress? What... What would you-"

"Send the summons. Prepare the coven. We will gather here, in my bastion, and prepare an ambush. They attempt to catch me unprepared? We will show them their folly. They may have given up their purity for strength, but now they are corruptible. We will infiltrate this new branch of the Church and make it our own. All will proceed as planned. England will be our safe haven."

Her orders given, Agnes returns to her pedestal. She lay one hand loving on the glass container.

"I am sorry, brother. It is nothing but delays and delays, is it not?" She strokes it now, though I do not understand why she gazes so fondly at the contents of the display. "...Do not fear. Soon, I will be strong enough to protect us. To remove this curse, and to bring you back."

I am struck suddenly with the knowledge that this is the same flower as before. The one her brother gave her, back in their cells.

The brother who history tells me died when Agnes was still young.

But I am distracted when Agnes speaks again.

"Why are you still here?"  
The girl behind her jumped. "I-I already sent word, the sisters are returning. They should be here soon, I did so on my own because of my other news."

"...And what is that?"

"There is rumbling, Mistress, among the... Newer sisters. Those who do not understand your vision, and may be tempted to become disloyal. I thought it best, to, ah, bring them all into your presence so that you might judge them yourself!" The girl's pitch and anxiety rose Agnes took long strides towards her, towering nearly a foot taller as she loomed imperiously.

"...That was good a decision. But do not take initiative again. I am Mistress. Not you."

"Y-yes Ma'am..."

But before either can say more, there is a distant explosion. And the sound of pounding feet.

The young woman yelps, running behind her Mistress, but Agnes merely frowns as she move before her prized pedestal.

"So soon? How annoying. I shall have to attempt my experiment again tomorrow."

She waves her arm, and the cloud swirls faster. It pulses, expanding, and horrible faces begin to form in the roiling, coiling mist.

In seconds the door to her sanctum is burst open by booted feet. Several robed men march through, holding crucifixes whose dim golden lights fail to ward off the choking smoke. It pushes into their midst and soon they fall to their knees, overcome as soon as they can enter.

But then a robed woman steps with them, holding a bouquet of bright spring flowers.

From her hand a gentle feeling swells. The pinkish glow meets the wall of poison fog, and it pushes it back. The men, now free from the malaise, slowly regain their feet as the fields of Magic reach a stalemate.

Agnes nods, ruminating. "You are more capable that I expected for those lacking a true witchly heritage. First you penetrated my wards, and now you offer a limited counter to my magic. How quickly you have become corrupted."

"We remain in God's light, witch." The woman spits, teeth clenched as she grips her flower harder. "Our Magic is filled with His Holy name, and we only use it to destroy more sinful Magic. We do what is Necessary."  
"Necessary?" The word seems to amuse Agnes; at least, that is the only thing I can imagine that would prompt such a devilish smile. "I know all about what is 'necessary'. And it is just another word for justification."

"Silence! We've come to kill you!" The newcomer stands firm in the face of her confident adversary, arm held aloft. "You have manipulated too many lives! Destroyed too many towns, charmed too many good men and women to the Devil's side!"

But her resolve weakens as Agnes laughs. The swirling cloud speeds up with a simple wave, and it presses into the small sphere of protection the bouquet offers. It cuts in behind and fills up the doorway; the entrance is lost in a thickening fog, and soon the intruders are hemmed in. The arm holding the flowers trembles.

"You are weak! WEAK!" Agnes laughs and laughs and laughs, barely able to speak. "This is what comes of weakness! You can not match my power, not with all your faith behind you. Only my students are protected from its effects. All others will inevitably perish, their souls fuelling my experiments. That is the only afterlife you will receive." The Green Witch of Woolpit stretches her arms, and her deadly spell rushes in. "Now come, unto my grasp!"

The men are forced to their knees again, crucifixes slipping from their grasp, simpler spells failing. The flowers begin to wilt, as does its bearer.

But the woman raises her head as the choking smog closes in. "W-we are tasked... To do whatever it takes! You must be stopped! For the sake of England!"

"You are nothing! England is nothing! It is ALL nothing! Die, die, die, and let my power become-" A knife plunges into her back.

For a moment, we are equally shocked. I realize that I feel Agnes' pain, the biting cut, and am nearly as paralyzed. She stumbles forward, and I feel the venom that coated it running through her veins.

Spinning she sees the dagger held by her forgotten pupil, but the eyes that were once hesitant are no longer. They are grim, and determined.

Agnes' seems unable to form the question, but I can tell the girl understands.

"...For the sake of England."

She steps closer, as if to finish the deal, but Agnes recovered enough to shout a few words of magic.

The room is filled with faerie fire.

Glowing lights of ethereal magic burn and explode indiscriminately; they provide just enough cover for Agnes to stagger to her pedestal, knocking it aside.

"B-Brother...!"She lays one hand on the iron rose. It flashes.

And grows.

Iron no more it vibrantly grows, an overwhelming weed that trails expanding vines. By the time her enemies have recovered, Agnes is ready, somehow insubstantial; all I can compare her to is a ghost.

As is what I can only assume is her brother, but no one could recognize him now. There is nothing but a gaping maw-like flower and a tangled mess of writhing, serpentine creepers and tendrils. I will describe no further; this is one part of this dream I refuse to reflect upon.

The leader of the church forces has regained her feet, and breathes easier as the choking gas finally recedes. But her face is far from relieved as she gazes at the monstrosity. "It is worse than I thought. You have truly abandoned all humanity. My superiors were right; this was the only way."

"It is like I told you. You need our help." The young girl frowns, circling the room to the now clear door. Several more witches join her, some even younger, but each holds the same grim expression. "She is worse than a mere witch."

"Traitors."

Agnes finally speaks, her ghost-like form holding her side. I can see that it affects her despite her transformative Magic; but she masks the pain and fear with rage.

"Is this how... You repay your Mistress...?"

"You would drive us all to destruction. You teach us nothing but what serves YOU, and would tear this land apart in the process. We all have our own reasons for Magic. So we made a deal."

She shoots a quick glance at the church warriors arrayed beside her. Their leader notices, and after a long pause nods.

"...The bargain will be kept if you continue to help. Your covens will be allowed to exist, so long as you remain from sight and offer scapegoats to appease the superstitious public from time to time. I mourn the loss of innocent life, but this is what my superiors have ordered."

"...Fools... Fools and traitors all..."

The plant monster stirs in sympathy as Agnes' voice weakens.

"Y-you think this makes you better than me!?"

But her hands pierces his pulpy mass of vines, and all that changes.

I can not tell exactly what is transpiring, what she does to bring about the change. But immediately the monster's stance shifts, agitated, growling.

"Do you have... Any notion of the path your walk!? When you trade humanity for power!"

It begins slathering, drooling, viciously howling for blood.

"We are all cursed, don't you see!? Give in, and join me!"

It seems almost as wrathful as Agnes.

"Embrace it, the lust for control, for safety, for power! All you can do is embrace it, as I have; your souls are already damned!"

For a moment, the men of the Church stiffen. Their heads bow or look aside, and their leader's resolve falters.

Until she inhales, drawing herself up to her full, proud height.

"That may be true. In fact, it nearly certainly is. But it changes nothing." She pulls from her hand an oversized cross, covered in runes. It glows, then bursts into holy flame, casting strange shadows across her expressionless face. "As I said... We do what is necessary. And what is necessary is your death."

She strides forward, and her allies follow.

"We are Necessarius. Prepare to die."

I do not wish to record the particulars of this battle; it is even more brutal, more horrific than the what I witnesses at the hands of Daedalus. I quail at the carnage, the inhuman capacity for destruction Agnes and her brother wield.

But they are defeated. No charm is enough, no hex effective. Brother and sister wilt together.

And as she lays defeated on the floor, amid the mulched shreds of the sweet young boy she failed to protect, Agnes curses for the first time in years the gift that had lead her to this path.

So Agnes died.

But an impression remains; something lingers.

Something beyond death.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

I am shaken.

I do not like admitting it, but perhaps writing it down will firm my resolve. I will NOT tell my father. Even though these dreams could almost make me believe my own curse is lifted, I will not give a hint, will not reveal anything.

There is something dark, something deep and dark hidden in them. I will not burden him with yet another problem. I will not be the cause, until I can figure out the solution. Or at least understand what the Hell is going on.

I can bear to write no more. This dream came to me clearly, in a single vision; I am grateful I can move onto the next.

Because I no longer can pretend imagine hope that this will be the end.

[Orsola's Note: Another later addition again combined with a line of the '12 Days of Christmas' Prophecy. There is still no explanation offered at this point in the translation process as to why it is included here. The original extra line has had a second added to it as a rhyming couplet.]

 **It is terrible and dread.**

 **Awoke from death, yet not dead.**

On the Second Day of Christmas: The Doves appalling

!~~~~~~~~~!

 **The Third Summon:**

 **Subject:** Joan of Arc, Maid of Orleans.

 **Temporality:** January, 1412 – May 1431

 **Capabilities:** Gemstone/Magician/Saint Hybrid.

 **Gemstone Ability:** Based on provisional data and information developed by spying in Academy City, we tentatively name her Gemstone Ability, "Mental In", as a Level 4. This reflects her limited suite of control: her power grants near total mind control, but only through limited verbal commands. Judging by reports, it also requires several minutes to activate: Joan must focus without interruption as she extents her AIM field out in a sphere; its maximum extent is unknown, but is at least as wide as St. George's grounds. Any who fall within this field are brought into the fold of her army, and will follow her without question. The large armies of devoted followers that history depicts her as leading must be viewed in a new light. It is unknown if all were controlled, nor what her upper limits, should they even exist, be.

 **Magical Skills:** Her sole known weakness. Historically, Saints have often trained magically to become even more dangerous, but Joan of Arc focused on physical combat and generalship. Her only known spell is the attribute-shifting magic, which she utilizes to either empower herself or the forces under her synergistic mental control. Given she is illiterate, this spell must have been learned painstakingly, and since she died young it is likely she had the time to learn more. However, it is advised that her magic not be underestimated: there may be additional danger in this field.

 **Conclusion:** Necessarius's records from this period provide more detail than common history as to Joan's eventual fate. She was not merely defeated and then executed at the stake, but was betrayed by allies and defeated after a prolonged battle against a force led by her contemporaries, also Saints. Seeing as these details should never have been available to Miss Baker, the historical accuracy of her dream journals are becoming worryingly certain. Knowing now that Joan of Arc also possesses a Gemstone ability, albeit one that seems to require long preparation time, only multiplies her potential threat. Recommended approaches include either playing on her personality to manipulate her, or distracting her from important targets through expendable allies.

 **Additional notes:** Of all the gemstones personally met by Necessarius forces, Joan seems to display the most hesitation. Having since acknowledged that their personalities are not under Miss Baker's direct control, the possibility exists to turn Joan of Arc away from her leader. It should be noted, however, that this option has been aggressively pursued by only one member of Necessarius, and is not a policy actively supported by the Archbishop.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 7: Forged**

Date: Ferbruary 17th

 _On the day she discovered her powers, she knew she had a greater purpose._

The dream begins in a bright field.

I see a young girl, short and stout but clearly strong. She is clearing a field of oak stumps; I see a number already unearthed around her. They are impressively large.

The fall day seems quiet; she whistles a cheery tune as she wraps a thick length of cord around her next victim. A draft horse nearby whinnies as it slowly looks up from its meal of oats.

The girl turns and laughs loudly at the noise. "Now now, Nelly, don't feel bad! We both know it's quicker if I do it myself."

She braces herself on a buried rock, and begins to heave, cord pulling taut.

I am amazed by her audacity, but before the stump can shift, we hear another noise.

It is the thunder of hoofsteps. But it is a low rumble, a surprisingly long distance away. Nonetheless, Joan pauses, respectfully waiting for a solid minute as a sizable party of soldiers passes into her field. She looks at them with undisguised interest, so much so that she fails to appreciate they are heading her direction until they are almost upon her.

Her eyes widen and she stands confused, a storm of stomping hooves quickly circle her. The leading figure breaks away from the pack and trots before her, a plump older man dressed in ornate white robes and dangling chains of jewellery. He is soon followed by a grizzled soldier, the stubble on his swarthy chin nearly as coarse as he disinterested frown. He spares the young girl merely one slow glance before leaning forward in his saddle, relaxing in his chain-mail as he let his companion speak for them both.

"Girl! Are you not Joan, daughter of Jacques d'Arc?"

His booming voice spoke to a confidence his portly frame would not suggest. I do not blame the girl for being stunned, intimidated by his obvious disdain and the ring of horsemen, their steeds slowed to a walk.

"Speak!"

"O-oh! Oh my!" She breaks into an awkward curtsy, earning a chuckle from the assembled soldiers. She blushes as she nods. "Yes, that is my father and my name!"

"And are you the one who pretends to visions of the Divinity?"

Joan blinks, her surprise turning to confusion. "Me!? Oh, no! Mercy, my lord, I would never!"

While the bishop thinks a moment, his companion yawns deeply. "Look, Bishop, she said it herself. Do you really need me any longer? Or are you truly so afraid of a random child that-"

"Your grow self-important, Benard, Saint of Calvo." The Bishop turns his horse angrily, back to the one soldier who had not followed his command. "When the Church commands, you must fall to service. Such is God's will."

"You sully that name with your coarse language. I borrowed it from a holier man than thou; and I do not serve French masters." [4] He spits upon the field, and the soldiers who had at first enjoyed his impudence quickly frown.

"You serve your Spanish lords and lest you forget, our nations remain allies. You will stay." Accepting the argument over, the Bishop rounds back on Joan. "Girl. ...Girl! Listen to me!"

But her eyes were locked on the soldier. I notice for the first time their peculiar intensity, but cannot quite see what it is that makes them so powerful.

"You're... You're a Saint? I thought you had to die to be a Saint... That's amazing!"

"For my sake I'm glad you're wrong!" He laughs, and her eyes brighten more. "Not always, sweetling. Now, just do what this old bag of wind asks, so we can all go home."

"I-if you wish, my lord."

"...If you two are quite done." The Bishop has moved his horse between them, his patience clearly all but expired. "Now, girl. You will of course come with me to renounce the visions I have heard people attribute to you. Then this can-"

"Oh, but I can't do that."  
The Bishop pauses. The soldiers, beginning to disperse, suddenly stopped. Even the Saint glanced up, but all were silent save their holy leader.

"I... I beg your pardon? Girl, speak."

"You asked me if I was pretending to visions: I would not lie about them." Her smile is innocence itself. "God certainly does speak to me. He told me I would lead great armies on day, in the services of Him and the French King!" The girl's cheeks abruptly reddened, and she raised a calloused hand to her lips. "Is today the day!? Truly!?"

The silence is pronounced.

"...Pft...B-bahahaha!" The soldier bursts into guffaws, slapping his leathered knees. "I like this one! She's great fun! Far more interesting than the others! I shall stay after all|"  
"Others?" The girl purses her lips until inspiration hits. "Oh! You mean more-"

"False prophets." She falters as the Bishop interrupts. "Just like you. Those who seek to pervert the Church's will, and disrupt France in our time of trouble. Those who harm our unity in the face of English aggression must be rooted out."

"Oh! But I do nothing of the sort." She waves her hand dismissively, less aware than I how the Bishop's face reddened and the Saint chokes back more laughter. "I simply answer the questions I am asked as best I can, and in times of need, help the troubled with the Lord's light flowing through me. Sometimes, more lately, I feel I can even show them the path to-"

"Silence!" Politely she waits as the Bishop's calms his horse, rearing up from his violence kicking. "If you do not repent, then you have but one chance to prove yourself! Show us your divine inspiration!"

"Oh, but it is God's will, not my own. I cannot make it happen by command. Don't you understand?" She looks now sympathetically at the Bishop, unconcerned or unaware of his increasing fury. "We are all but tools in his hands. Who am I to say when-"

"Men! Draw arms!" She blinks again, surprised as the ring of soldiers closes in. "If she does not obey, strike her down. On my-"

" _Hey_ **.** "

The soldier's instantly freeze. Not one makes another move. The girl, mildly alarmed, looks to the Saint. When he speaks again, the sudden frosty steel in his voice is gone.

"Give the girl a chance at least. Go on, girl. Joan, was it?" She nods, entranced. "Just try as he says. God willing, you'll prove this bag of pomp and circumstance wrong."

She stares at the Saint a moment. He seems to flinch as he realizes her eyes hold an unfamiliar depth of conviction. I stare through his eyes with him, and perhaps we both see something deeper, hidden in her gaze. Not yet brought to the surface. As they lock eyes, I can see the girl thinking. Listening.

Eventually she nods. Whatever nerves she might have felt seem to quickly fade. "...If you say, my Lord." She kneels in the tall grass, closes her eyes, bows her head. "Please, a moment to pray."

"May God grant you solace in his infinite mercy, should you be wasting our time."

The Bishop's vitriol goes ignored, as the girl begins to pray.

The minutes drag on as all waits, a light wind gently stirring the grass. The soldiers grow impatient, horses stomping the ground flat, but the girl simply prays.

"...Well, girl? Surely God would act by now, if he truly wanted you to speak for him."

Still she prays, and the bishop snorts.

"She is clearly a charlatan. If she will not obey, we will bring her in by force. Man-at-arms, club the girl and bring her in."  
"Now look here, you-"

"Do not jeopardize our alliance, Saint. Since you insist upon a fair trial she will be granted one. But she will stand for God's justice."

The Saint falls silent as one of the Bishop's men approaches, his unease clearly visible. But he raises his maul regardless as the girl prayed on.

He brings it down.

But slows, mid swing. He slows until his weapon hovered delicately above her head. There he stands transfixed despite the murmurings of his comrade.

"...What is the meaning of this? Man-at-arms, explain yourself!" The bishop pushes his horse forward, and I ride along with his perspective. He grasps his shirking soldier by the shoulder, trying and failing to spin him about. "What in the Devil has gotten into... Aagh!?"

The soldier's eyes are dominated each by an eight-pointed star.

Terrified, the bishop pulls back on his reins, retreating to his circle of soldiers. They in turn back away, all clearing space from the inexplicable vision. The comrade they have lost remains impassive, his lips tightly drawn, face blank, maul now at the ready.

Behind him, the girl sighs. There is a hint of sadness in her eyes. She reminds me for an instant of the other two, the fleeting hesitation as she does her magic without Magic. But she eventually smiles brightly, standing as she wipes a bead of sweat from her brow. And opens her eyes, revealing matching stars of her own. "There. You see? God has spoken to this man, and turned him to my side."

" _Mierda..._ What is this...?" The Saint mumbles blithely, but soon gets an answer.

"W-witchcraft! I-i-it must be so! She manipulates the minds of men, can force them into her devilish contract!" The Bishop fumbles for his own holy symbol, desperately trying to clear a path to safety through his men. "Slay her! Slay the witch! Before she steals another soul!"

"But I thought-"  
Her words go unheeded. A few brave souls immediately rush forth, crying out for God's protection. One strikes their former ally as he passes; the captivated man does nothing to defend himself, and falls. Soon the girl is surrounded, alone.

But is somehow not frightened.

Instead she is filled with righteous wrath.

"That man did nothing **WRONG!** "

She yanks hard on the heavy cord, still tied to the tree stump. Incredibly hard. Impossibly hard, for it immediately rends from the ground, showering huge chunks of earth and stone everywhere. The stump itself whips around, knocking back soldiers with the wind of its sweep. They are the fortunate ones.

It is over in a fraction of a second. The Saint sits alone on his horse, showered by sprinkling dirt, his mouth agape as he watches the girl flee, running through the field so fast the grass is torn up in her wake.

But the girl is soon far away, so far away that even she cannot see the clearing she left behind anymore. It has become clear to me she is something incredible, but there is no way I can explain her amazing acts, not even as magic without Magic. She runs for a full minute, easily clearing several miles, before she rests.

She is not tired, but still her face is red.

"J-Joan, Joan, Joan... What have you done, you stupid girl!?" She pulls at her short hair, pacing back and forth in a small wooded grove. "The Bishop and his men! All of them! How could I be so stupid?"

"I don't know, sweetling." The girl and I are equally startled. But only she can spin to see the Saint from before, leaning lazily against a gnarled tree. "But I approve."

"Mercy! How!?" She falls back, stumbling, not so much afraid as confused. "I ran faster than any horse can travel, and how did I not hear you!?"  
"We're much alike, girl. Now, let us talk, before-" His casual steps towards her end with the fury of Joan's response.

I do not know how, but suddenly an entire tree is in her hands, uprooted with blinding speed. "Stay away! I can hurt you!" She waves it like a child might fend off a stray dog as the Saint. "I'm too strong, I don't want to-"

The tree is suddenly in pieces. Joan blinks as splinters explode everywhere. The grove is decimated by the shards, small creatures fleeing in all directions. Yet they merely shatter on her unprotected body like hail on pavement.  
"You can't, girl." The Saint sheathes his sword, and reaches up to slide his helmet from his face. "Though I admit, that would have stung."

"H-h-h-h... How? I..." Joan is stunned. "You swung that so fast! I could hardly see you..."

"That you could follow at all is the last bit of evidence I will need. Girl, you need not fear any repercussion from the Bishop. Not any more."

"B-but he was so threatening, and he is God's-"

"The man is a fool. Serve God your own way." The Saint snorts, wiping his nose. "Besides, he cannot touch you now. You are worth one thousand of his corrupt kind."

"Me? But I'm just a simple farm girl, I've-"

"After that display?" His look soften as she turns aside her gaze. "You must know you're different. Even without your eyes, you are a special girl indeed."

"My eyes?" Her hand drifts up to her face, but she pauses, dwells on his statement. She lets it fall back limply. "...Yes. I've tried to hide it. My father knows, my mother lies to herself about it, I just, I ju-"

"It is nothing to be ashamed of. You have several God-given gifts, it seems." He circles her now, drawing closer, and she no longer eyes him warily. "Visions, the body of Christ, and apparently you have even been blessed with some kind of heavenly Magic? I've never seen the like. You grow more intriguing by the minute."

She is calm now, a light of wonder filling her starry eyes. "What are you saying?"

He stops before her. "I am saying you have the strength your nation needs. Much like I serve Spain, you may yet serve France." He extends a gloved hand, spending a second to take it off. "I do not know where you may yet rank, but for now I greet you as equal and ally. [4] Let me take you to the King, and you may yet save your country from our English foes. Well, Joan of Arc? Will you fight?"  
I do not know if she takes a while to respond, or if time itself drags on. But the dream brings me in close to her face, to see the indecision play across it. As she ponders her own power, and its place.

I can only imagine her wondering if this is her destiny. I can just about imagine her seeking divine inspiration. I doubt I will ever know what exactly she hears, but, once a sad frown has flitted across her expression, she meets the Saint levelly.

She extends her hand, and clasps his wrist. She is comically short in comparison, a stout young maiden next to a burly veteran campaigner. Yet somehow they seem to be matched.

"...I want to fight."

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

I am incredibly confused by this dream. Confused because I recognize the girl immediately. I know enough history to suspect this is Joan of Arc; I could understand their French, and I recognize the time period, the Hundred Year's War. Yet how is she so physically gifted? What is her power, this heavenly Magic the other main figure references? What am I missing?

If only my own studies in Magic had not gone so awry, I might understand. And of course, I can ask no one why a French Saint should be a Super-woman.

I should record this now, lest I forget. I have begun to suspect that these dreams have a common thread. A person in the past discovers a power; they use it for some end which draws them to a depressing conclusion. I already know Joan of Arc was burned at the stake. What else of her fate will my dreams show me?

I have decided. I must dig deeper into my Father's old notebooks. I can not help but feel that these dreams are too important to chance otherwise. If you ever read this, I am sorry for invading your privacy and the past you kept hidden. I was always hoping you'd tell me someday.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 8: Honed**

Date: February 22nd

The dream opens to a wide series of fields. The ground has been torn up by rampaging armies, the boots of thousands of men. And apparently, one woman.

Joan of Arc stands alone on the field. She is no longer the young girl I saw in the first dream. She has grown into a young woman, but she remains stout and strong as before. Her eyes are closed as she waits standing in full-plate, shiny brightly despite the clouds above. It is almost as if she glows from within. Both hands rest on the pommel of her blade, digging point first into the overturned sod. Standing equally proudly beside her is a simple white battle standard, an image of God holding the world between two angels, emblazoned with the words "Jhesus Maria".

There are no others for miles around, clear on all sides. Yet suddenly her ear pricks. And she smiles, eyes flashing wide to reveal their starry gaze.

"I would recognize that step anywhere. Come forward, Master."

From far off in the distance, there comes a sudden roaring whirlwind of noise. Joan's short hair flips about, but otherwise is unmoved as a man comes to a heavy stop several feet before her.  
"That's such a painful thing to call me now, you know." The Saint from before, the one called Bernard of Calvo. His has grown older too, a touch of grey flirting on the edges of his short brush cut. His helmet is already off, resting under the crook of one arm. His other hand he lays with careful ease upon the handle of his maul as dangle from his side. "I am no longer your teacher."  
"But you did teach me well!" She laughs, tossing her short lock. "And I'll not forget it. So if you choose to call me out, I will come. What is it? Do you wish to have a rematch?"

"After the beating you gave me upon your 'graduation'? The woman of Spain were inconsolable for a month!" He shakes his head, laughing back.

"Bernard! You should know better! We Saints have to obey a higher standard than that!"

"Yes, yes, as you say, Joan, I cede to your wisdom." He waited until she had finished tittering at his flamboyant bow. "Goodness, girl. I sometimes wonder what I loosed upon the world when I trained you in the arts of war. You are stronger than any Saint I've ever heard of. And you even took to command better than any could have expected; never have I met a more natural general."

"S-stop Bernard, you will tempt a poor girl to pride!" She scratched at her cheeks, fighting a blush. "Is this why you call me out, to tease me so?"

"No, Joan. And it's not why I called you away from your soldiers, either. To come alone."

Her blush fades, and his smile stiffens. They look at each other searchingly for a moment.

"You know, you are the only one I would obey that request for."

"Too true. You are distrustful of any not so Holy as we."

"Or as they. They have touched God's grace through my gift. You understand."

"Yes, I do... Even if all the world considers what you do to be disturbing at best, and demonic at worst." The man sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You reliance upon your honour guard of impressed men... You have your share of enemies within and without with those eyes of yours."

"Which is precisely why I refused further training in magic. I will not seek their ways if they would try to experiment upon my soldiers. How many times must I explain that they are not to be pitied, Benard?"

"Do not trouble yourself, I know you reasoning; they have become blessed, protected, and so on. All of which I had to explain in turn over several days to the Archbishops. At least trust them, Joan, they-"

"Seek their own glory, about all else." Joan's eyes are fierce, and suddenly she no longer seems so young. "I serve but two masters: God, and France."

The man stares at her a moment. But eventually, smiles sadly. "Too true."

The tension drains away from their faces, and Joan lazily waves one hand to clear the air.

"...You are the only one I can talk to, you know. Like this."

He nods slowly. "As a Saint."

"Exactly! Oh, Bernard, it was so lonely!" She spins away from him now, sweeping her sword along with her. "My family, I love them, but still! They could not understand! No one did, until I met you! And you gave me everything, I, I do not even know where to begin!"

"...Please do not be so grateful."

"Oh, nonsense, there is no need for such between us. We are as siblings." She waves away his humility over her shoulder. "Between us, there is only honesty and God's light. Ah, but only if there were more of us! The pair of English Saints we fight with, I wish we could speak more with them... I am certain we serve a greater purpose than these petty earthly squabbles. We just need to discuss!"

"We are at war, Joan."  
"Our nations are, but what are the wars of man to God's eye? We just need to find peace. Perhaps that can be our purpose! We cannot be born just for fighting each other, Bernard, every battle, to a stalemate! I do not want to send more men to die pointlessly if there is not to be a purpose, or at least an END!" Suddenly filled with righteous fury, her sword slams down into the ground. It shakes violently.

The man remains unmoved. "And if it is?" He waits as she turns back to him. "If this is God's purpose, what then? What say you to his demands?"  
"Nothing. Never anything." Her voice has become a whisper, and she sighs. "...You might see as much as I do. Though that is no surprise. We are both Saints, after all." She laughs, but it weak for reasons I do not see.

The man seems equally confused. "I do... Not follow. I speak metaphorically."  
"...Never mind. What matters is that I march where I am lead." Her eyes brighten into full radiance, beaming proudly with determination. "And I will fight for God whatever may come."

The field is still. The clouds drift slowly past, but for miles on end nothing disturbs the war-torn plains of France.

"Is that your true answer."

"It is, and forever shall be."

Without hesitation she nods, and the two stare silently again. The seconds tick by.

"...Why do you not run?" He shakes his head. "You act like you know. Why remain here, to face this? You-"

"Do not spoil this with such talk, Bernard." Her gentle smile is for some reason painful to him. "We both must follow our path. And though I weep yours has taken you this way, I do not regret our friendship. Nor do I blame you. I suppose this is just my path to walk, in turn..."

He sweeps his maul from his handle; the wind roars, but Joan does not flinch as he begins to yell.  
"You do not have to make yourself a martyr, Joan! No matter what the voices in your head say, you can yield if you want to!" His voice becomes hoarse, all trace of composure gone. "Just acknowledge the truth! That you serve the Church! Do not let your pride see you broken!"

She does not waver at his threat. "We are above Earthly reproach, Bernard. None but God can judge us. Not you, and not I." She brings her blade around in a short sweep, levelling it at her one-time teacher. "And not those you have brought with you. Reveal yourselves, or forever hide from God's light."

For a long second, there is nothing. And then the two are surrounded, the field suddenly filled with people.

"Archbishop, I assure you, this spell-! We were truly undetectable, she was warned, it is-"

"Silence, knave." A stout figure trundles forward, silencing the scrawny man kowtowing at his side. He is weighed down by holy paraphernalia, crosses and sceptres and rings hung through inscribed chain around his neck, practically glowing with what I can only guess are holy protective charms. "It does not matter; she is trapped." He calls out across the field. "Joan! I knew you were trouble from the start."  
"Aha! My old friend, the Bishop. Is this all your doing, then? Come to get rid of the voice nagging at your conscience?" Joan blusters, as if this is all to be expected. From my privileged view in this dream, I can see her counting the forces arrayed against her. Yet her grin only grows.

"Not just I. You trod on too many shoes, girl. Not just the English, but the French, our Spanish Allies, even the Burgundian Alliance; you weaken our shared authority. No matter what wars we fight, we share a common goal. The people are beginning to doubt the guidance of the Church; this cannot be permitted. You have even forced an alliance. All intent on ending the witchcraft you use, and the shadow you cast on Christendom."

"So impressive a list! The finest God-forsaken magicians from across Europe! And you even enlisted the help of the English Saints?" She laughs haughtily at the two men standing solemnly behind the now-Archbishop, the same man who attempted to arrest her in the first dream. "How many French peasants have you sold out for this lovely exchange?"

He ignores her, signally to his army of magicians. There must be a hundred spreading out, channelling power into various spells. "Your magic is weak, and your other power is meaningless without time to prepare. And our three Saints will certainly keep you on your feet." Bernard flinches, but to her credit Joan does not even glance his way, keeping her gaze locked on the Archbishop. "You will be taken, bound, and held trial for witchcraft and treason."

"God willing, I die on this field."

"Hold! For the love of God, hold!"

Bernard steps between the two, despite threatening motions from the other saints. Yet he bears them no mind, finding the strength to lock eyes with Joan.

"It is all right, Bernard. I know you cannot. You serve your country, and believe you serve God in doing so. If this is what your masters command and what you feel right, I will not fault you."  
"Before we fight, Joan..." The words are stolen from his lips, but still, he must feel the urge to say something. And something unexpected tumbles through unbidden. "Just tell me. Why come here, if you knew this was to be? What do you gain? Do you have nothing to live for, nothing worth bending for? Is there not something that you want?"  
The barrage of questions seems to surprise her, the first time since the dream began. "What I want? That is not relevant."

"Still, tell me!" He is almost shaking now, but continues. "I know your tastes, so I kept my distance. I respect you as a sister, as you yourself have claimed in turn. But like I would want my sister, I want you to be happy! And yet I've never seen you grow close to anyone! To care, truly care, for anyone! Is this how you want your life to end!?"

For perhaps the first time, I sense hesitation in her eyes. They flicker shut.

But soon reopen, leaving only sadness in their wake. "...There is no one out there for me. Do not worry. But if you want the truth, about what I want...?" She swings her blade up high, and the assembled force steps back nearly as one. "My destiny secured."

There is a blinding flash. A raging explosion. I can only see through it thanks to the clarity of the dream, for Joan is fast, faster than anything I can imagine. Even the other Saints only have time to turn as she has pressed forward, bringing down the edge of her blade on the statue-like Archbishop, reacting so slowly to her attack that he has not even had time to blink.

The blade strikes a barrier. And smashes through it. Then another, and another. All in the span of an instant, the religious icons he bears are rendered as impotent as a mote in God's eye. He is cleaved through, each half burst apart by the sheer concussive violence of her swing. And then her blade reaches the Earth.

All are blown back by the resulting explosion; Joan's battle standard uprooted, half shredded by debris. As the dust settles, and the opposing Saints regain their bewildered balance, Joan emerges from the smoke, gore spattered and battle-mad, starry eyes burning with righteous light.

"Now come, Saints and Ages all! Come and test your mettle on the **iron of my FAITH**!"

There is a tremendous, cataclysmic roar.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

This is not what I read in the history books. She was supposedly captured in honourable battle by the Burgundian Alliance, who sold her to their English allies, who then held her trial. There are theories I have read that she was betrayed, but not on a scale such as this. If only I could ask my father! These magical conflicts must echo in some way through his work. Or through the work of the cabal. I just wish I knew enough of their actual goals, to really understand better why this is happening to me.

But such is the idle hope of a girl who has not let go of the past. What matters is that I know how this story ends. I wonder if there is even going to be a third dream, since I already know what is to come.

I doubt I will wonder long.

!~~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 9: Blunted**

Date: February 26th

The dream begins in a quiet darkness. Yet I can somehow see the dungeon clearly. For that is where I find Joan, bound by several lengths of chain. They are ludicrously thick, each link larger than my fists together, and they encircle her in constricting loops so many times as to be comical. Comical, were it not for the way she stood straight, regardless of their smothering weight. Unbowed and unbroken.

Her starry eyes are as a bright as ever as the door to her cell slowly opens. She takes a step forward, but is halted by the chains, binding her further to the wall and floor. They strain under her effort.

"Now, Joan. Such is unworthy of you." A robed man strides through the door, taking care to stop several feet from her utmost reach. He speaks French with an obvious English accent; I remain uncertain how I can determine this through the dream, but it is an impression I am sure of. He is lightly bearded and robed as a high ranking priest.

Joan regards him blankly. He returns the favour with a haughty air, before sniffing.

"Though I admit, I am impressed at your resilience. Your stigmata has been suppressed by these magical devices, specially strengthened for you, yet still you can stand and look so intimidating. Where does your strength come from?"

"The Lord my God."  
"Ohoho… Now you speak?" He grins, eyes passing cruelly over the visible bruises on her face. "If only you had done so sooner… Perhaps you are willing to explain your bizarre, blasphemous Magic to us now. It could save you from your fate; I might be able to sway my liege's blood lust yet, if I can convince him of the power you might grant us."

"God wills this end. I say no more."

The man snorts. "That he does. Well, ignore my offer then. I have little need for conversation, and he's angry enough at the problem you've posed." He turns back to the door behind him, but places a hand on its door-frame.

A whorl of magic fills the air, overtaking the rooms and every sense. It seems as though the world itself bends at an angle, spirally around an unseen point

And then it snaps back. The room itself, stone walls and metal bars, remains as they were, unchanged. But something else has.

"There. The front-lines." He lets his hand fall as he speak to his captive. "Pray for your eternal soul as best you can; the mock trial with the substitute has already ended in your guilty verdict. Justice will be done to the witch, in God's name. With specially blessed holy wood, of course." He misses the way her eyes narrow; by the time he turns back to face her she is impassive as ever. "Do not cause a commotion, like before; this time, blowing on me with hurricane force will not delay the inevitable."

He smirks, letting it slowly fade as he gazes into her serene expression. Eventually he frowns, growling a low threat.

"And remember. If you resist at all, or breathe a word of this deception, this town and five more like it shall burn. Remember that."

The door to the cell slams behind him. Joan waits patiently.

Eventually, his footsteps have faded; she lets the chains fall slack, but does not rest. Instead, she closes her eyes, and listens.

Though at first all I can hear is silence, eventually I begin to hear voices. I hear the voices of the countryside as they echo through the bared windows of her cell. Despite the infection of English soldiers shouting, there is a familiar accent it seems she can recognize. "…Rouen?" She smiles weakly. "He was not lying. At least I will die on French soil."

She drinks in the sound of her people, listening for the daily joys, the triumphs, the little blessings from above. I do not know how she can understand so many different voices, or I, let alone hear them in the first place. Yet underlying it all is the tension of fear and uncertainty, voices whispering of secrets and hatred, at reviled invaders and, worse yet, blasphemes to God. She hears them all, and like the priest at confession, bears their burden with a sad frown.

But it is not the sadness of a sister, losing her family, or a woman sent to die.

It is the sadness of the shepherd, watching her flock go to the wolves. Knowing she has failed.

"My God, my God…" Her voice is nearly inaudible, even to her. But I can read the words on her lips. "Why have you given me so much, just to take it away? How have I failed in your eyes? What… Could I have done differently?"

Her voice does not waver.

"I have fought with honour, and fought in your name. That is enough for me. It must be. I cannot want more, cannot ask for more. I have served my country, my King, and you, my Lord."

But even so, I can feel her indecision, her weakness.

"I… Don't need to understand your will. Why you let men play their games with your tools, disobey your will, your instruments on Earth. Even as a Saint, your privileged hand, who hears your voice… D-do I really need to know why? Why you say I must die here, this day?"

For the first time, I feel her bend. Feel her question, just for an instant, the destiny her gifts bestowed.

"…If it is not death I fear, then why do I feel so betrayed? So alone? My God, My God, I am sorry, My God…"

Time passes. She is led from the cell, towards a public gathering. Some jeer; most are silent.

Some man officiates; Joan does not hear his words, so neither do I.

We both hear the fire alight. Smoke rises, blotting out the air.

The rest is for the history books. I will merely recount the last thing to transpire in the dream.

The light in her eyes dims, but they are filled with something new.

So Joan of Arc died.

But an impression remained.

She does not cease to be, but instead is lost, somewhere dark.

The fire is gone; the smoke is gone; France and all the Earth are gone. We hang together in inky blackness, even Joan's miraculous eyes seeing no end, no light.

Yet she is not alone. Another impression comes; something separate from her.

It offers a deal.

But she refuses.

Half-dead, half-alive, some impossible will and strength keeps her on the edge of reason, past the point when mere man would have succumbed.

"…N-no…" She does not speak aloud; instead it is in her mind, responding to a voice only she can hear, an impression on she can feel. "The D-devil's bargain? I-I will not…! To heaven, G-God's side, I go!"

It offers again.

"No!" More firmly now, swimming with invisible, incorporeal arms, Joan fights. "You are the voice, the one I have heard, but I see the truth now! You are not God, you cannot be! Trickster! Fallen one! Get out! I will not return to this world!"

It offers again.

"I will not! Let me die! Let me die, and have my reward! Please, I want no more part in this! I do not need to fix the mistakes! That is not my right! Please, let me go!"

It offers again.

It offers again.

It offers again.

An eternity passes.

There is no escape.

Eventually she breaks, though I know not how long it takes.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~~~!

I do not know what to think anymore.

Is this really the work of the Devil? These dreams, these stories. I shudder to even consider it. Does this explain my curse? I was raised religious, but even so, this is too much to accept. There is simply no way.

I so want to tell Father.

But this will break him, and our family once and for all, one final time beyond what even the others in the cabal could do to us. I must find my answers elsewhere. I must find answers. I feel this is building to something, a slow roiling boil bubbling to a monstrous crescendo. There is something coming.

I think I hear it whispering to me.

[Orsola's note: Another addendum, with a similar pattern to the last.]

 **It is terrible and dread.**

 **Awoke from death, yet not dead.**

 **It calls in silence, and It brings a deal.**

On the Third Day of Christmas: The Hen unfailing

!~~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] It is canon-established that individual flying magic is simple but pointless to use, because it is so easily countered. HOWEVER, that counter relied on symbolism from Christian religion, so B.C.E. it wouldn't exist. I also imply here that the magic is difficult, rationalized by the young age of magical tradition at this point.

[2] This is a RailDex retelling of the myth of Daedalus, made both more realistic and more magical at the same time. In the story of Perdix, the inventor is jealous of his nephew's skill and throws him from a tower. But a Goddess intervenes, instead making the boy a bird, the first partridge, and saving his life. I hope you can see how I've twisted it around a little.

[3] The Green Children of Woolpit might have actually existed. If so, her name really was Agnes; it was given to her, after she was found with her brother outside the village. It's doubtful even the most realistic versions of the story are true, but there is evidence that some foundlings did show up around this time, and one of them did marry a local Lord. Whether they were actually green is unlikely; I personally expect that the label 'green' arose from a transliteration of 'wild' or 'Fae', as in forest-dwelling, or "living-in-the-green". They must have basically been wildlings, raised without civilization when they were found. My own telling of their story invokes the RailDex universe to explain it; nearly everything else is total fabrication.

That said, there are certain details that I gloss over; be advised that all these stories are going to be connected, and have a root cause. That's all I'm going to spoil.

[4] The curious may discover that this Saint of Calvo was a real man and a warrior, later beatified, from Spain. The truly curious may realize that his life and death don't coincide at all with Joan of Arc's: He's several centuries too early. I've already explained in the text why I was forced to do this; I wanted to use another real Saint, but couldn't find a contemporary that might match Joan.

[5] I don't know if the world is organized enough at this point to have discreet rankings for Saints, as RailDex does in the modern day, but I assume it does here. Might as well.

[6] Those paying careful attention may note that the three stories here include the artifacts used in each summoning ritual. Just a small little thing I wanted to reference again, to tie it all together more.

[7] In reaction to a question about Touma going to space, I think that Space Elevators usually only go into LEO, or Low Earth Orbit. Might just be high upper atmosphere. Also it may not be canon, so there's that. Also maybe I just forgot. Good catch!

[8] All right, I forgot about the space plane. Still might not be canon! Still good catch. I could make the joke reference the moon, perhaps, but that can come later.

[9] I would do another song, but I did the "Night Before Christmas" parody thing with Last Order in the end of Part 1, which is still my favourite think I've ever written, so it'd feel cheap to try it again. Thanks for the appreciation, though!

[10] I can't believe I keep forgetting that Uiharu autocorrects to Uihara by accident in my word processor do a mistaken "add to dictionary" click. Thanks for reminding me, though!


	61. Part 3: Chapter 5

**Hello everyone. I am ashamed to have to apologize for the delay yet again, but life has been hitting me with particular violence of late. Car troubles, family passings, exam periods, etc. And now I have to finish my degree over the summer, so I will still have little time to write. A finale by New Years, I swear!**

 **Either way, I will keep this brief. This chapter is progression: the next, more introspection. For now, thanks for sticking with me.**

 **Chapter 5:**

8:01 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 21, on an unnamed wooded Mountain.

"...It should have STARTED by now!"

"Saten-san, it has only been a minute." Uiharu watched as her classmate stomped around the wide plateau they shared. All three had been seated moments ago upon short section of fallen tree teleported into convenient position, but now she was listened to angry boots crunching snow. "Maybe they are just running late?"

"This is Academy City, where even the garbage cans are on time! Why hasn't the show started!?" Silhouetted by their dying fire, Saten cut an intimidating figure set against the backdrop of the glowing city. "We've already done everything we can to stall! We made s'mores, had a snow-ball fight despite the fact _someone_ cheated-"

"No one said I could not teleport."

"-even made snow-angels! But it's eight and the city lights haven't even dimmed yet! What gives!? Maybe-"

After a sigh short, Shirai interjected again. "It is not likely an issue. Nor is there much we can do about it if it was. Lastly, there is no reason to assume the show is cancelled, as you were likely to suggest." But as Saten sank into despondency the teleporter pursed her lips. "Still, you are right... It's unusual for something run by the city to see delays. We will just have to wait and see."

Saten's pout was audible.

"Unless you want to go back down the mountain and ask someone."

"...Fine, I guess we can miss a few minutes of fireworks. As long as the really big secret display I heard they were planning for Midnight happens at the right time, I'll survive."

"Isn't that just a rumour-"

"It was on a forum, it has to be true! I mean, the poster said their cousin's uncle's nephew has a friend whose dad was working on..."

The other two girls, only paying half an ear, hardly noticed as Saten trailed off. When Uiharu finally looked up, she say her classmate staring into the distance.

"...Who's that?"

Shirai joined the two as they gazed behind them, spying for the first time a figure walking through the mountain woods, a woman whose grey hair streamed out from its hood. She pressed through the deepest drifts of snow but hardly seemed bothered, carving an easy path. Only visible from the waist up, she would have been completely anonymous had her loose cowl not revealed her face. It was lined and pocked with spots, but she walked with a confidence and strength that belied her apparent age.

"I should offer assistance."

Saten and Uiharu could not look back fast enough to see the friend disappear. She materialized an inch above the snow line, dropping several feet through it not five feet before the woman.

"Good evening, ma'am. Are you all right?" The woman stopped abruptly, clearly surprised and struck silent by Shirai's sudden appearance, but the girl persisted. "Ma'am? You seem under-dressed for this environment."

"Oh." When the woman spoke, it was with careful quiet, thoughtfully chewing each word before she let them loose into the world. "...Why, yes, thank you child. And no, this is fine, I do not feel the cold."

"I am a Judgment agent, so please let me know if you do require assistance."

"Ahh, what a helpful youth. Not like in my time..." The woman laughed weakly, before looking around the mountain side. "I wonder. Maybe, then, you could help me. Can you, perhaps, tell me where... What is the name of this mountain?"

"...It doesn't have one, ma'am. It is just part of District 21, the site of research facilities and Anti-Skill search agents."

"Ah! Really. How curious. Well, excellent. I... apologize, for interrupting. I will be on my way."

Without another word the woman veered around the Teleporter, carrying on easily as she ventured into the woods. Shirai waited in the snow as her friends trudged to her position, and all three watched as the woman merged into the treeline. Uiharu was the first to speak.

"Shirai-san, was she all right? Did she say what she was doing up here?'

"No, she never did. She seemed calm."

"...Strange. I wonder what she is up to."

"I doubt it is our-"

"We should follow her!"

The Judgment agents flinched, but were unsurprised when Saten began to stumble through the ready-made snow trail before her quarry had made.

"That is hardly... But, lo, she is gone."

Uiharu and Shirai shared a look, but quickly succumbed to the inevitable. By the time they had teleported up to Saten the girl was wearing a gleeful expression.

"Hah! So you two want to follow her as well!"

"I admit, I have misgivings about her." The Level 4 took hold of her other friend, planning their next teleport as she mused. "She is Asian, but clearly is not Japanese, nor does she seem to know much about Academy City. If so, why is she visiting out here, of all places, and tonight, of all times?"

"...I bet it's connected to that super-secret-"

"We should investigate, at least until we are certain nothing is afoot."

They followed, for several minutes. The snow gently swirled through the trees.

"Uhm, aren't we heading back towards the Observatory?" Uiharu was the first to notice the obvious as they pierced the treeline. The big round dome and its associated structures loomed above, dwarfing the old woman as she approached a chain link fence near its side. She paused there for only a moment, before swiping her arm. She disappeared into a cloud of snow, rising suddenly from the ground.

When the cloud dispersed the fence had been pealed apart, coated in shining ice.

The woman smoothly passed through the gap, casually sweeping aside a huge clearing of snow to reveal dead grass and dirt below.

"H-h-h-oly..." Saten shock spoke for all the girls. "She's old, but she's an esper!"

"And strong, too... Shirai-san!"

"Right!" The teleporter instantly appeared behind the now crouching woman, narrowly missing the glowing circle her bare hands had traced upon the earth. "Stop! Judgment!"

"There. Done." The woman stood, wiping dry soil from her fingers. "Truly easy to find, after all... Oh. You again? I am sorry, child."

"Judgment! Don't move, and cease in this unlawful activity!" Armband displayed, the teleporter warily approached. "Why have you broken into this facility? I will have to detain you if you fail to answer."

"I am sad to say this fits the next instruction I have." The cool expression on her face did not falter as a whirlwind of snow whipped around her. It devoured Shirai instantly. "Eliminating nearby resistance."

!~~~~~~~~!

8:02 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 13: An Construction Site in the Northern Quarter

The sheer suddenness of the attack that poured from Asu's hands nearly overwhelmed Mikoto and Lessar, but each were quick to dodge. Super heated stones flew fast and showered deadly shrapnel, twin barrages from his hands narrowly missing. Both opened up distance, forced away by heat. Momentarily off balance but still sparking, Mikoto retreated just far enough to keep range. _Just enough to incapacitate him._ A lance flew from her brow and struck true.

"H-hghghghgh-" Arms flailing, fingers twitching, Asu went down like bag of rocks.

The air began to rapidly cool as the girls watched on.

When he remained stiff as a statue, Lessar cleared her throat.

"...Was that it?"

"I guess." Mikoto approached carefully, feeling nothing amiss with her powers. "I'm just glad he's inexperienced. If he knew he could use earth to ground my attacks, I'd have been pretty ineffective."

"Well, now he's-"

The body sprang upwards, propelled by stiff arms.

"Aaaaggh! That hurt!" Asu's eyes were wild with confusion and fear. "I don't like that at all! What'd you-"

Another, brighter arc flashed in the night.

"H-HGHGHGHGHGH-"

Down again he went, face crashing into the hard concrete.

Mikoto dusted soot from the smoking air off her coat sleeve sheepishly, failing to mask her sudden fright. "S-sheesh. Do I really need to baby sit this jerk?" For good measure she zapped him again, but paused as the current ran through his body. _Wait... I can't feel anything running through his nerves, so..._

"Is this a problem?" Lessar prodded him with her spear. "Are you not using enough juice? Just turn it up a notch."

"I did, but..." _Ah, right!_ Mikoto slapped her forehead. "No, I forgot, he's not actually alive. So unless I want to zap him to dust, I'm just temporarily knocking him out. And unlike the other weirdo's, he's not nigh invincible."

"Lucky for him, it's apparently not permanent. So, do we just tie him down or...?"

"Oooooh... W-what keeps hittin- HGHGHGHGHGHGH-"

"...So anyway, no matter what we bind him with he'll just melt his way free." Lessar continued as she fanned her face to clear away the smoke. "He's really hot, remember?"

"We can't just carry him around with us. If we fight others and got distracted... No, we've got to think of- Hmmm?" Mikoto's phone beeped rapidly, and she opened up the mapping program once again. "I've got another hit... Somewhere just on the edge of this district; I've never been there before."

"P-please s-s-stop- HGHGHGHGHGHGHGH-"

"...That's great and all, sister, but we've got this on our hands first... Ah! Aha, wait a minute."

Mikoto glanced up from her screen in time to watch Lessar disappear into a nearby crater, seconds later reappearing with a long, thick cable in her hands. It took only a brief probe of the Level 5's power to sense it was live. "Looks like it an underground power line that he broke when he burst up from below. I guess it's for part of the underground facilities... Wait, what are you-"

"Watch."

"...Hz-wh-wha...?"

She pressed the frayed, exposed cable to his back.

"HGHGHGHGHGHGH-"

The smoke from his body gently wafted, blown weakly as Lessar twirled her unorthodox stun gun. "Tada! Not a problem."

"...Well, that's great and all, but we can't just strap it to him, the current might fail."

"I'll keep an eye on him." She dug the end into his rear this time, before he re-awoke. He flopped on the spot. "This is fun."

 _...Is that what I sound like?_

"Don't give me that weird look! Itsuwa got to have a heroic moment of staying behind to hold back the enemy. Besides, you're the only one who can probably read that display program on your... Hold on."

"... HGHGHGHGHGH-"

"I THOUGHT he was playing dead that time. Anyway, on your phone. So, get going!"

"...I don't think this counts as heroic."

"Just go, esper! Sheesh." Sheepish, Mikoto started to jog away, looking back over her shoulder as the magician shook her head. "A girl tries to be cool..."

"...c-c-cool? Wha- HGHGHGHGHGH-"

"Quiet you!"

It was not until she had gotten two alleys distant that Mikoto failed to hear the sounds of electric torture. Strangely relieved, her phone once again dominated her attention, along with the single, flashing light of her next target.

!~~~~~~~~!

Indeterminate time, December 31st: European Airspace

He stared down his opponent. Tsuchimikado straightened, blinking Dom Perignon away from his eyes behind his shades. His fists up in a boxing stance, his feet shuffling closer, toward Touma and the shards of broken glass at their feet. Yet Touma expected this was a ruse, knowing full well the wide variety of combat training the spy had. He weighed his odds.

He did not like them.

But he had a few ideas, eyeing the counter top behind him. There was a whole assortment of equipment for first class passengers, enough to give him an idea.

 _Okay. He's better at fighting than me, I know that. But..._

He raised one fist to match the spy's as his other hand groped behind him, finally alighting on a hot water kettle, plugged into a wall socket.

"We're on a plane! I've fought on a plane before so I have the edge. And even if you're a better fighter than me, you might not be able to use all that skill here, in these cramped spaces."

The other boy looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. "...Maybe not. So let's see whose the better improviser!" With an almost lazy movement he flicked out his foot, catching the sharp wine bottom and kicking it forward.

Expecting the feint Touma dove to the side, sweeping his arms across the counter. With several frantic motions he hurled everything within reach, cutlery, cutting boards, a cheese grater. All were parried by the now wary spy as he inched closer, guard raised high.

It was only when he realized the faucet was not going to come loose did Touma give up on tossing the kitchen sink. But his hand remained gripping it as the implacable Tsuchimikado drew near, moving in for a grapple.

Or so the spy thought, noticing at just the last second Touma's grin and his other hand, in turn reaching for the sink's other faucet. This one was linked to an extendable hose.

"Gotcha!"  
The water jet from the extendable sprayer caught his opponent face first, knocking sunglasses askew. Sputtering he could barely hold off the quick pair of punches Touma could level. Yet neither hit home and the spy retreated, wiping his face yet again. "Could you-pheh-stop doing that?"

"Stop attacking me then!" Wielding the hose with Bond-like precision, Touma kept up a steady torrent. _Aim for the eyes, keep him off balance...!?_

The mini-fridge he had tossed betrayed him, sailing past his narrow dodge as it smashed into the sink. Water from the busted faucet fountained as Touma realized his friend was gaining ground, bearing down as a kitchen knife flashed in his hands.

The blade dug deep into the counter top where it solidly twanged, having flown from Tsuchimikado's fingers to intercept Touma's last second flight. As it was it caught the sleeve of his jacket, and the boy stared at the tear with horror before backpedalling a foot. "What are you thinking!?"

"I know where to hit you to do the least damage. Really, you'll hardly even need stitches." The spy had reached the knife, finally tugging it free. "At least, as long as you don't squirm around..."

The threat hung in the air as their eyes. Touma paused, mid effort to pull himself up to the counter top. One arm slung at top it, feeling for a handhold, the other rested on the seat beside him as he stared up at his counterpart.

Finally his grasping hand found the cord it was looking for.

"...Think fast!"

"Tch!" The tea kettle whipped around like a mace, whistling dangerously as it swung in a wide arc. "***-!"

Tsuchimikado could only raise his arm to catch the worst of the splash, but even so a great deal hit. Flying backwards he brought his hands to his face, trying to avoid the inevitable assault as he was unable to defend from the boiling heat.

Yet the water dripped luke-warm down his cheek.

Ge opened his eyes to spy Touma, peering in from one of the two side entrances to the business section.

"...Of course it wasn't hot yet. Nice one, you *******."

"It's not like I want to scald you!" _...Wait a minute._ "Even if you're trying to stab me!"

Tsuchimikado grunted as he regained his feet, one again drying his glasses with his sleeve. "I'll only stab you if you don't give up easily. Just let me tie you down and make sure you're not a liability."

Touma had gotten deep into the next compartment, watching from the far end as Tsuchimikado entered from the other side. He came between the two entrances to first class that flanked the wall between the two zones. Now Touma looked at his friend over the long central section of seats, watching as he drew level. "Not a chance, I can't risk doing nothing. You of all people should know that!"  
"I know." The other boy shrugged again, a familiar gesture. "Still, I'm following my gut. And orders. But mostly my gut, nyah."

 _Yeah, well. So am I_. "Fine then. If you want me, come and get me."

Tsuchimikado grinned, then began to step to his left, heading counter-clockwise down the aisle.

Touma mirrored the move, heading back up to first class.

The two met in the middle.

Yet Touma kept going and, puzzled, Tsuchimikado did the same.

The two circled. [1]

Tsuchimikado's patience wore thin before they had gotten halfway through the second loop. "What the heck are you doing? Stop playing around!" He darted clockwise, back towards first class and a break in the rows.

And Touma darted clockwise as well, towards economy to keep several seats between them. "Look, you know I don't want to fight you."

The ended up in the middle again, staring straight across several seats. Touma saw Tsuchimikdao eyeing them.

"Ah, but if you try to squeeze through you'll be too slow to catch me! What are you going to do now, huh?  
"So you're going to play 'ring-around-the-rosie' for the next 45 minutes until this plane lands? Think you can avoid me the whole time, is that it?"

 _I hope that's not a bad plan._

"Not a bad plan... It really is your best hope against me." Touma felt relieved right up to the moment Tsuchimikado lept up onto a seat back, balancing in a martial artist's crouch. "But how about this?"

"That!? What the-!? That's dange-!" The spy had closed the distance in a speedy crab walk, hopping back and forth across seats to draw level with the boy. His feet kicked out, knocking the boy's hasty guard again and again, bruising forearms and driving Touma to the ground.

Whereupon he saw a seat recline button. He slammed it with his fist.

"Hah! Now I'v-***-!"

On any other plane, this would have result in the seat falling back under the weight of its unusual occupant, making him fall directly on top. But in this hi-tech super jet, the seats had a motorized component, responding to pressure to ensure even the heaviest person had a smooth lift up.

Due to the odd balance the spy presented, internal sensors over-reacted and slammed him hard into the plane's overhead bins and knocked him hard onto the ground at the foot of the seat. Thought surprised by the effect, Touma was quickly upon him, and the two fell to base fisticuffs, to bludgeoning and elbowing and the general accomplishment of nothing.

At first Touma had the upper hand, but he quickly guessed even this advantage was not enough to overcome the spy's training. He was certain of that fact when he felt two feet lock around his waist and fling him bodily into the air, skidding off the plane's ceiling to land in the window seat, squished face first with a view.

Clouds streamed past, but he had no time to enjoy it before Tsuchimikado was upon him, one foot again his back pinning him even harder against the glass. Touma felt a thump, and twisted his head to see his friend had slammed open the ceiling panel above them: two air bags dropped free, prompting all the rest to follow suit.

" _Please attach your own mask before assistance loved ones..._ "

The intercom's voice was a pleasant _contrast_ to the sudden choking sensation Touma felt, as the air-bags cords was slung smoothly around then tightened to his neck.

"Ack! Kchch...!" Only one hand managed to squirm under the noose as the two began to struggle.

"Come'n, just pass out already!"

"- _a crew member will be by shortly to ensure-"_

"Aackckck-!"

Touma's free hand pounded the spy's leg without no effect. But an idea came to his oxygen starved brain, and he felt around for a familiar button, tapping it in quick succession.

The seat ahead of them slapped Tsuchimikado hard, surprising him; it hit again and again and again as Touma fingered the button for all he was worth.

"Aagh! Ow! Aag! Gah! Stop with! The seat already!" His glasses flew off from the repeated assault, foot finally slipping from Touma's back.

It was just enough of a reprieve for Touma to rear back with the last of his strength. His assailant tumbled hard into the aisle as he gasped for air, slipping the cord from his neck. He eyed it for a second then took a deep breath as Tsuchimikado shakily stood upright, guard raised.

As he did, the magician scowled, rubbing at a bruise on his cheek while plucking yet another pair of shades from his shirt. [2] "You can be a real pain... You know that, you *******?"

Touma rubbed his neck before he responded, gingerly backing away past rows of seats to Economy. "...Right back at you, you *******."

Though Business was more crowded than First-Class by a huge measure, Economy seated its passengers like they were tinned fish. The only real space were the several aisles that crisscrossed the section, just wide enough for a single person to walk, scored with inset parallel groves, like an embedded railway track. Here Touma wandered, trying to find an advantage in his duel.

Soon they were both inside, staring over the seats.

The spy grinned. "These are the cheaper seats. No powered backs for you to mess with."

But Touma grinned back. "But this is Economy, the haven of the poor, my people! You merely adopted the cheapness... I was _born_ in it! [3] There's something you're over-looking."

Frowning now, Tsuchimikado followed his quarry's gaze. But then he shrugged, stretching his bruised arm up to tap the luggage compartment. It hung just above head level, much more compact than in in Business. "No seat hopping for me. Lucky you."

 _So that's one advantage. Maybe my plan can work after all._

And so the two began to circle.

But not for long.

Touma realized with surprise that his attacker was moving ahead, closer to the rear. With one swift strike he had kicked open a cheap plastic door, disappearing from view within a crew area.

Eyes wide the boy watched and waited, guard lowered.

Lowered until Tsuchimikado emerged upon a sterling steed. It was shiny chrome, glinting in the cabin's fluorescent lighting, laden with all sorts of drinks and confectionery, a convenience cart humming quietly as it slid out into the cabin proper. On the cart's far end the spy clung, knees pinned inside a rack potato chips, hands working with a control panel's twin joysticks. His efforts spun the cart around, twisting and jerking in awkward motions.

For a long moment Touma was simply confused, all tension forgotten. "What the heck are you riding on?"

"I was just hoping for a weapon, but it looks like these planes really went all out. Check out these powered carts, they're pretty rad, nyah!" The cart pivoted before lining up with one of Economy's many aisles, electric engine revving. "With this I'll just run you down and pick up the pieces later!"

Accelerating it zipped down the aisle bearing straight down on Touma. He narrowly dove into a row of seats, scrambling for cover from a well timed can of soft drink that slammed where his head had been moments ago. Several more rained from all angles as the cart circled his little section, line drives shot through the gaps in the seat at every pass. They began to connect with painful effect.

 _I've got the take that cart out!_ More projectiles landed heavily before one, a large bag of hard candies, flopped down over his head. He blinked at it, then grasped it and shoved it into his opponent's path. "Let's try this!"

The bag was torn to shreds as the cart carried on, scattering candy like shrapnel. Both boys cried out, recoiling for a momentary lull in the battle.

 _All right, why didn't that work?_ Half under the seat the boy wracked his brain for an answer, watching the cart handle turns at improbable speed from underneath the rows of seats. As he wondered, he soon observed the cart more closely. The vehicle seemed to skim just barely over the surface of the red carpeting, running only along the aisles with perfect aim. Finally he understood, as the rain of attack resumed. _So the thing runs in the groves! Which means he's not likely really controlling it, it's just constantly going ahead and circling me. Which means..._

Tsuchimikado was grasping through another of the cart's shelves to find more ammo when he heard the noise. Spinning his head he saw Touma perched on a seat back just behind him, balancing as he waited for the next pass.

 _I'll tackle him from it, then commandeer it myself... Then even if he gets another I can avoid him the whole flight there._ But Touma felt himself tense as he saw Tsuchimikado lean back, a hefty bottle of water ready for a solid swing. _I'll have to pass right next to him... If he hits me first it could take me out. And if I land in front of the cart..._

The cart rounded the last bend, bearing down. So too did the spy, wielding the bottle of water with batter-like intent. The two combatants lined up the approach.

Touma leapt.

Tsuchimikado swung.

But rather than dodge, Touma took the bottle straight in the head and braced for impact.

The blow struck hard but bottle fell apart apart instantly, splashing apart instantly. Though it stunned him, the force of the blow was absorbed and Touma had just enough presence of mind to clings to the cart's front, fingers slipping in water. Blinking, he saw the spy was equally blinded, sputtering.

"A-again, nyah!?"

"That was your fault this time!"

The two growled at each other as the cart jerked and twisted around. But suddenly ground to a halt. Water had sprayed onto the control panel. It sparked ominously under both their eyes.

The cart began to accelerate again, soon faster than before.

"That can't be-" A fist swung for Touma's shoulder, "Hey!"

"Get off my cart!"  
"No!"

Each leaned forward and took the other by the cuff with one hand, pummelling with the other, hanging on with their legs for dear life as the cart picked up speed. It zipped around the various aisles in chaotic fashion, flinging soft drinks and pretzels and all pandemonium around the cabin in an unholy dervish of chaos.

Eventually the fight slowed as the combatants were forced to focus on survival, whipped around by the violence of their ride. It became a grim contest of endurance, the seats a messy blur of motion. Eyes watering, the two fighters prayed the other would slip first.

When suddenly the cart stopped. They were both wrenched free, Tsuchimikado kicked up into the ceiling, Touma forward into the cabin's wall. The former fell back atop the jammed, ruined cart while the latter rolled to a halt in one of the few, clear spaces on the plane. Blearily eyed and weary he groped for something to pull himself up with, feeling something plastic shift under his fingers as the spy pried himself from the sticking, smoking convenience cart.

Their eyes met, but Tsuchimikado's flashed with surprise.

"Stop!" Touma froze, feeling a pit in his stomach. "Don't move that hand!" The silence drew out until the spy gestured past Touma, to the safety release on which his hand lay.

It was attached to the plane's emergency exit, who warning lights were rapidly flashing. In fact, the flashing seemed to be filling the cabin, pulsing in time. They illuminated a sheet of white plastic, scrawled with brightly coloured text in several different languages.

One proved to be Japanese, which Touma silently read. _1: Apply pressure against Emergency Escape Hatch – say, that's what I'm leaning against – to offset potential differential. 2: Squeeze tightly on lever handle to disengage first safety release – Yeah, that's under my hand all right – 3: Pull lever down to disengage second safety release. NOTE: process irreversible at this stage... 4: release lever to jettison wall panelling._

He paused to absorb this.

 _Oh._

"...Well, it looks like you haven't managed to kill us both yet, but that door could still swing open if this plane banks." Tsuchimikado sighed, trying and failing to smear condiment from his sunglasses. "But that was pretty quick thinking, making your own dead man's switch. How can I incapacitate you now, nyah?"

Touma stared for a moment. "...You can't?"

"Guess not." The spy stretched broadly, working a kink out of his shoulder. "...Temporary cease fire, nyah?"

"Agreed."

!~~~~~~~~!

8:12 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 13: Border with District 21.

The tall facilities had only just receded behind Mikoto when they were replaced by shorter, squatter buildings. They clumped together at first in small city blocks, but soon spread out and became sparse. Eventually the grid work of roads stopped, and she was met by a fence. On her side, a rarely used road ran parallel: on the opposite side, untended snow, climbing up a hill leading to the mountains of District 21.

 _I really have never been here before... I wonder what sensors tripped my pattern software?_

Her phone made it clear.

"A security alarm... So I've gone too far then." She turned around, scanning the scattering of innocuous, identical grey structures. "My target broke in."

It was a simple matter to silence the silent alarm at the nearest network grid, cutting off Anti-Skill interference. Though it hardly seemed to matter, since for reasons she was not eager to dwell on most of their forces seemed preoccupied. It was just as easy to pinpoint the particular building that had been burgled, from both the alert it had sent to the kicked in door.

Mikoto sensed past it carefully, noting its sturdy steel construction. Nothing inside was moving that she could see, but it was filled with random objects, little bits of metal bundled up in big pallets. With her first steps she could not quite figure out what they could be, but as she passed further inside a a box deeper inside came into resolution. She recognized instantly the shape of a particular frog.

"Gekoto? So..." There were hundreds of them, packing in some sort of foam: as she came closer the light from the door revealed them as toys. Several more big crates came into views, and she realized some of the bits of metal she had sensed belonged to pencil sharpers, scissors, and other such ephemera.

"Toys and school supplies." _I guess that makes sense. This place is part of District 13 still. Must be warehouses for the schools. And those big office buildings must be educational facilities too... I don't want to think what they are planning to do in that unfinished place I left Lessar. I'll check in on it when it's complete, just to make sure._

She stood just inside the doorway until it occurred to her she was getting distracted.

 _Hah, here I am worrying about some potential future problem for kids that might never happen, when time and space are actually unravelling. Priorities! This is exactly what he would do, God, he really is rubbing off on me..._

The girl blinked, surprised at herself and her wandering mind, realizing slowly it was the first time she had allowed herself to really think about him. It was a curious sensation, not like it used to be. Like looking through fogged glass.

 _...That idiot. I wonder how he's doing._

She fought back the sigh, and fought back to reality. It took only seconds to confirm her worst fears.

She was alone.

"...Dang it. I was too slow this time. Where did the one who caused this go... Where..." The silence held no answer.

The night had gotten even colder, and her breath hung in the still air. Things remained quiet.

Her phone beeped. A quick glance confirmed that another suite of alarms had been triggered, very close. Close enough they remained within the same broad expanse of scattered storage structures. She took off in hot pursuit.

She rounded a corner in less than a minute, and found a man, standing alone in the street. He was tall, looming in the darkness, but distant streetlights dimly lit his face. Dark, long hair flowed along with a matching beard, resting on black robes. Small holes peppered his clothing, letting through thin strands of light. Colour on his features was scarce: a white Orthodox crucifix dangled from his neck, and a thin golden chain looped from a pocket on his side. But most vivid were his eyes of blazing gold, sizing up Mikoto with unmasked interest.

"Ah. Hello there, my sweet young thing. Nice evening, is it not?"

 _...He's strange. But I don't know what to make of him._ There was no sign of damage, no visible break ins nearby. The man stood calmly, a snakelike smile spreading slowly as Mikoto framed her question. _Ah, heck with it._ "Are you with Baker and the others?"

"You know of us?" His eyes widened slightly, but then grew merry. "What, that woman summoner, tool of the First? Yes, yes, I suppose!" He belly laughed, head shaking with mirth. "But I have my own plans. Which begin with finding out who is in charge of this place, and where he might be."

 _That worked I guess._ Mikoto watched as he searched the skyline, seeking a some sort of sign. But he gave up the hunt quickly, turning back with deeper interest to the esper.

"Now who are you, to question me? You are bold for a child."

"I'm Academy City's third ranked Level 5. And I'm going to pry Index from you lot with my bare hands if I have to." She was prepared for his confusion. "Where's the girl you *******'s abducted?"

"Oh! My, what violent language from such a young girl." He tutted, spreading his arms to shrug. "I suppose youth every where-"

"Can we cut this out?" He frowned. "Who are you?"

"...If you so rudely insist." "I am strannik and advisor to the Tsar; seeker of God and lover of women; Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin."

The last word caught her attention. "...Rasputin? Okay. I know this one. Rasputin, advisor and confidant to the Russian imperial family. Likely lead to the collapse of the empire to communism, and was shot, stabbed, bound and drowned into a river. That about right?"

Her barb missed the mark. "More or less. But that is just a prelude to my current plans." He gazed at the street lights around him, disdain clear. "Bah. Industry truly has grown strong since I left. Magic will have to subjugate it anew."

"I don't really care about your plans. Just take me to the nun or I'll make you."

"Really?" Rasputin asked with a laugh. "Like the last men who tried to 'make me' obey?"

He swept away at the fog at his feet, as if casting it aside. To Mikoto's surprise t took on a purple tinge and obeyed, parting to reveal several bodies that slowly peeled up from the ground. They hovered in the air, arms outstretched as if pulled by invisible ropes. A few of his victims still moaned, but most were clearly unconscious or at death's door. They were all Anti-Skill agents, weapons lost, bodies bloody. Rasputin kicked up after them, nimbly floating in their centre, standing on an ethereal column of purple fog.

"You need not be so disgruntled, child. They live, but only because I did not push myself; I merely wished to the test the limits of my body renewed." Rasputin grinned. "So far I am most pleased."

 _They're going to die! I have to take care of this guy quick then get medical support here..._ Half the esper's mind worked through her phone to arrange the necessary contact, while the other prepared for a battle. "I can't let you get away with that! Get them out of here, so I can kick your ***!"

To her surprise he shrugged, muttered as he spun in the air. "They approached me. I merely defended myself. Yet if you insist, I will undo my handiwork." Mikoto's surprise grew more and more as he touched each body in turn. "Let it never be said I disobeyed a pretty girl."

She stared in confusion, until the bodies began to moan. The blood remained, but they slowly shifted, life returning. And then they drifted away, down the road, stretching far out of sight as they were marionetted away.

 _I don't get why he did that... Or how. Nano-machines? No, it must be more inexplicable Magic. But maybe..._ "How did you do that?" She asked, hoping for an answer.

She was partially rewarded. "This is my gift. My power, that makes me invincible. Now, will you truly stand in my way?"

"Of course I will."

The purple fog roared past her, filling the air, crowding the sky. They were suddenly in a sphere of violently whirling smog but not a breath of wind stirred them. "What a shame. I have mastered death. I have had country's quake at my name, empires and emperors heel at my feet. And yet my first real battle is to be here, with a girl barely past childhood?"

The girl in question flared with electricity, but she hesitated. _Wait..._ Mikoto drudged up further memories from history class. _This guy was known to be nearly unkillable, or at least the legends say. That might tie into his powers..._

"What's wrong, little girl? Having second thoughts?"

 _...All right. Let's go straight to the big guns._ She reached into her pocket, and pulled out one of a hastily replenished supply of coins. _Not a token, but this will do._ "Proschay." [4]

"What is that you are doing, little child?" The man smugly chortled to himself as the coin reaching the tip of its arc and came tumbling back down. "A parlour tri-"

The resulting blast was deafening, blasting snow from rooftops and caving in walls. The projectile dug a short furrow in the pavement at her feet before it slammed straight into the man's torso. All was lost in a cloud of smoke and purple smog, blown into disarray.

"Well? Call me a little girl now, why don't..."

Something dropped to the ground with a wet thud. She realized the man called Rasputin was no longer floating in the air.

"Don't...?"

Mikoto peered closer as the purple smog dissipated utterly. The air stilled, revealing a lifeless form.

"D-d... D-d-d-don't... D-d-d-d!?"

The lights nearby had been blown out, mercifully hiding the body, or what remained of it.

"D-D-D-DON'T TELL ME I KILLED HIM!?"

The body did not answer. Eyes wide, the girl bolted.

" **No** , no no no no he's already dead you didn't kill him, you **can't** kill him, he's like a ghost or zombie or something, just forget about it, you won, move on, nothing happened, no witnesses, no crime, just gotta-"

Her phone beeped.

"-Oh hey look another target let's just climb the mountain then sounds great hey look a snowmobile station for Anti-Skill I guess I can borrow one I send it back I promise I'm not a criminaaaaaal!"

The engine and girl roared as one as they sped into the night, blazing past a small, wooden shack.

A confused security officer peered out from the third-opened door of his station. Used to quiet in the shadow of the mountain, the sudden burst of shouting had surprised him. He glanced around and up and down the slopes, but the level 5 was far gone, blazing a trail upwards and onward.

!~~~~~~~~!

8:15 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District Unknown, Undisclosed Control Centre

"...Input one. There are two opposing groups."

Kihara Raito's fingers glowed blue as they danced inside his holographic displays. In there conjured air were a swarm of dots and text-file data, but his waving hands modified their order. Two segments were separated: to one side of a dividing line were just three dots, one yellow, two green. The other side held eleven large, purple points, and one much, much smaller. The scientist mumbled as he worked.

"Input one, subset one: this group is not associated with those causing detectable space-time disruption. They are also allied with the 3rd ranked level 5: investigate their existence as undisclosed Chairman experiments, that secretive... Input one, subset two: this second group individually comprise a District-Level threat. Samples from encounters with Level 5 and allies reveal extreme durability and destructive potential. Lack of response from Board intriguing."

His fingers brushed away the data and it was pushed aside, minimized and withdrawn. It was soon replaced by a city map, overlaid with copies of the glowing dots. They blinked in a rough circle, ringing the site of the replaced Dianoid. Kihara Raito eyed these image with intense focus.

"...Input two: efforts to direct Level 5 to continue conflict proceeding apace. Observation of battle methods and capability lead to mixed results: some quantifiable, some incomprehensible. Yet extended survey has suggested a suite of tests, running now on data gathered. There is likely a broader pattern; will wait until data-banks process before employing hypothesis."

His hands stilled. The displays floated, comfortably motionless as they imposed upon the air.

"Input three. The anomalies that have not yet encountered resistance remain at their respective destinations. Uncertain if this implies they have succeeded at their purpose, or await something else. Observation indicates intelligence, but that can be misleading: lack of further orders? Again, uncertain. Perhaps tied to pattern..."

He sighed, fingers snapping silently.

"No hypothesizing yet."

The lights glowed, and Kihara Raito watched.

"Output one. Patience, Raito. Patience."

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] At this point, I hope my made up layout of seats is not too confusing. Sadly the LN's did not go into great detail, and plus it seems that plane was not for standard passengers. So I made three compartments: First Class, with just a few seats and many spaces, plus amenities. Business had two rows on either side, with a single window seat and two in the centre area. Economy is much more packed, think a tic-tac-toe board.

[2] I will not stop this gag. I will not.

[3] My favourite joke in part three so far. Even more than the sunglasses!

[4] Interesting fact: dasvidaniya may also mean goodbye in Russian, but it has the added connotation that you plan to be seeing that person again soon. Mikoto is more learned than that. On a side note, Rasputin was one of the few figures I foreshadowed before that might have been recognizable from vague details. But only just.

[5] Regarding Sphinx the cat... I'm thinking about it? I have to review my writing for when I last mentioned the feline.


	62. Part 3: Chapter 6

**I don't have a whole lot to say about the delay this time. It was a doozy. While I was busy with school and work, I also just haven't been in the writing mood, and couldn't put out content I was happy about. Sorry to say, updates will come when they come. Thanks to those commenting, especially pointing out questions and inconsistencies: I might not address them all based on time or other reasons, but I do read everything, so thank you again! But a special thanks to those waiting, hopefully without pitchforks.**

 **For now, welcome back to a Certain Holiday Season.**

 **Chapter 6:**

Indeterminate time, December 31st: Russian Airspace.

"...Seriously, what was that? You looked so goofy hopping from seat to seat, like that video game frog!" _Actually it was pretty cool, more like a ninja or something_. But I can't tell him that.

"I'll admit I was showing off a bit. Hoping it would throw you off balance."

"It would take more than that!"

The spy shrugged again, this time wincing from a bruise. "Thought it was worth a shot. Against Jokers like you, one has to try everything to see what sticks, nyah."

Roaring jets softly rumbled the escape door that Touma leaned against, and he sighed as his breathing finally normalized enough to feel the vibration. He sat staring at his friend who was already quite composed, legs swinging idly as he lounged atop the wreckage of the motorized cart. Touma forced himself to keep an eye on the spy, but the intermittent sparks sputtering from his throne continued to distract.

He tore his eyes away and came up with a distraction of his own. "Why are you even doing this?"

Tsuchimikado had been looking away indifferently, but lolled his head back. "Nyah? What, fighting you?"

"What else!?" Touma forced another deep breath. "I mean, we both want to do the same thing. You can't really think I'm that unstable, just because I'm acting a bit different."

"True."

The plane hummed; the cart sparked.

"...THEN WHY ARE YOU FIGHTING ME!?"

"Careful, careful!" The spy jerked upright as Touma prepared to lunge forward, and both looked back to the handle pulled dangerously low. Touma eased off the pressure, and both sighed as it clicked into place again. "...Seriously."

Hardly mollifed by his brush with death, Touma huffed. "Are you gonna to answer me or not?"

"I'm fighting you because you're not in the right state of mind, nyah."

"The heck does that mean?"

The spy stretched his neck, uncharacteristic concern twisting his lips. "I'm not sure I can explain this to you in a way your emotionally stunted mind can handle..."

"Hey!"

His grin twisted back into shape. "Then again, maybe this is the perfect time. I dunno, nyah." He sat for a moment rubbing his chin, eyeing up Touma as if staring into his mind, tracing the structures of his thought.

"Stop staring at me like a creep!"

Yet Tsuchimikado persisted, his grin slowly easing. "All right, I think I know how to explain it. You know how we're always fighting something or someone or other, right? For whatever reason."

Touma's nod was slow, but it eventually came. "Yeah?"

"Right, and we risk our lives: it's part of the business after all, nyah."

"Yeah."

"And we often find ourselves sacrificing our safety for another's."

"Oh, yeah. Well, mostly, but yeah."

"Bingo." The boy flinched at the invisible bullet fired from a sudden finger gun, pointing at his chest. "Thing is, you'd give everything for anyone, in any situation. And that's the problem now."

Touma blinked, as he processed the criticism. "Well, that's not totally true. I don't take risks I don't think have a chance to succeed..."

"It's not about extremes, that's just what's visible! It's about context! Pay attention!" The finger gun kept firing, punctuating exclamations. Finally the spy holstered it, leaning his chin on an open palm. "First of all, how you do it just ain't efficient, nyah, but that's not my real point. How about this: you act like you want to protect everyone. You talk like you just do what makes you happy, and this all lines up nicely. But I think you're lying. At least a little."

They both let the pause drag, neither willing to break the suddenly tense silence. Yet eventually, Tsuchimikado chuckled.

"I'm a spy. I watch everybody. I see a lot of things. And I know that you're motivated by something else. At least, nowadays. For quite a while, actually. He leaned forward. "I think you just don't want to get hurt anymore."

He stared into Touma's narrowed eyes.

If either boy felt unsure neither showed it.

"...And not the 'ow I got a boo boo, wah,' way, either. You know what I mean. You don't feel safe taking emotional risks, so your replace those commitments with over-the-top acts, and try to keep yourself distant. You're driven to care about others, but you can't get to a point where you accept they care about you in kind. Because if you do, you have to acknowledge-"

"Shut up!"

"-that you're hurting them when you do these things, when you fight all the time and they know it. When you decide to push them away."

He might have well have thrown a punch.

"Every time someone wants to get close to you and you avoid it, run or hide behind ignorance or humour-"

A second blow.

"All for what you pretend is their sake."

The cabin faded for a minute, as if struck aside by a sudden blow. Replacing it was a series of confused images. A hospital bedside and a nun in white; a plain cafe for a plain shrine maiden; an imaginary girl in an imaginary world; a orderly classroom and schoolgirl together; these and a whole host of accelerating faces and places racing by. [1]

And a lonely bridge with a lonely girl.

Something clicked.

He blinked alert, noticing with mild alarm his hand was off the lever. The clicking sound was a safety catch sliding into position, courtesy of the now leaning-forward spy. The pulsing lights dimmed. Touma looked up into Tsuchimikado's grinning face, which was soon eclipsed by a single thumb, proudly popped.

"There, I fixed it, nyah."

"Oh, good." _...Oh, ****!_

Their scuffle was brief but furious. Each tackled the other, hoping for the advantage of surprise. Both were disappointed as they tumbled and fell apart.

Touma recovered, but felt an immediate pressure.

"I'm not done yet."

Tsuchimikado closed in, rising low with a swift jab, his movements nothing like before. Touma could already see how he'd been tricked into over reacting as the surprising feint drew back, but he had already shifted too far to react, leaving his jaw open for the hook that connected with a meaty thud.

Touma staggered, stars flashing. He shook his head while the spy taunted, drawing inexorably closer. "Every time you try to avoid relying on someone, and every time when you finally have to accept it, you just want to pull away, backpedal, try to restart the relationship from scratch." The boy swept out a leg then jumped back to gain distance, but in a flash he was overtaken, hand ripped aside.

Another punch connected, along with words back with a sarcastic twist.

"For their sake."

This blow spun the boy around, but an iron grip on his shoulder reversed the spin, leading to yet another blow.

Reality blacked out for a second, leaving only a strange impression of multiple selves. [2] But the feeling passed as woke upon on the floor, half his body propped up by an instinctive effort to grasp a seat. Visions of the spy cautiously approaching swam in his vision.

"Every time you throw yourself stupidly into problems you don't understand, for their sake, or push them away, for their sake, you're not really doing it for them. You're doing it for you."

Silence.

"Aren't you?

Silence.

"Admit it."

!~~~~~~~~!

Silence.

But then...

One foot after another...

"…Even so."

Touma stood.

The spy waited.

"I was finally convinced, a long time ago it feels like, that I can fight for myself. And that is what I want."

Tsuchimikado's half-lowered guard tightened.

"…Really? What you want is to hurt others-"

"AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE!"

The sweep of Imagine Breaker seemed to encompass the world as he pulled it into the tightest fist.

"I can't stop it all, I know that! I'm not a naïve little kid who thinks that things can always work out perfect for everyone! I'm not a Magician or Esper who bend reality, or a God who can just Break it and Remake it into the pieces I want! No matter what I do, people will get hurt! Even if I make the best possible choices, people still get hurt! All I can do is try for the best I can do! And the best I can do, the least people I see hurt, is that! Just to keep people out of my cursed life as much as possible, but try my best while they are here! And if they decide that for themselves, find that answer on their own, then who am I to stop them!? So it's okay if they come and go if I learn to move past that! Because there's no way to do better! I will bend any of my ideals now to come up with that, my best answer, but I will not bend my best answer! You can't know-"

"Maybe not. Maybe I don't know. So what?"

It was a sudden reversal; Touma was just as off-balance as if struck again. "What?"

"I'm not telling you the answers. I'm no better; you know what my relationship with my sister is like. I'm not judging you." The spy straightened, shaking his own fist loose of kinks. "What, is that what it sounded like? Bro. We're bros. Delta Force. I'm just saying you need to figure this mess out, before you live to regret it."

The plane hummed along, flying steady.

"What mess? What are you-"

"When are you going to notice!?" He ran both hands through his blonde hair, dislodging an accidental candy wrapper in the process. "Nyah, now I know how your teachers must all have felt! No matter the angle I approach you just refuse to see it!" He gazed out the nearby window.

The other boy followed his eyes, leaning a little forward. "Are we looking at something?"

He recoiled as Tsuchimikado flung his arms high.

"Never ya mind, ya hear!? Nyaaaah, this is... Wait! What did you say? Who do you think decided that?"

Touma blinked, honestly confused. "What? I don't know what you m-"

A finger jabbed deep into his chest. "Just then, you said others can chose to leave your life, for safety's sake or whatever reason you might half-assedly think, nyah! So who do you think decided to leave your life on their own, because I'm pretty certain that isn't the kind of thing you normally mope about, isn't it!?"

 _I don't want to think about it._ "...Look, can-"

"Ahah! NYAH-HAH! I'm glad I made that deal with the touring girl after all..."

"What? What!? I'm so confused!"

"Exactly." Though sounding smugly confident, the spy turned his face away, gazing out the window once again. "Look, we're alike. Most of the time you just avoid having anyone that close to you. I used to do that too, before Maika. But now... Look, I'll phrase it this way. How often do you ever really care for yourself that much?"

"Not this again-"

"No, no, I mean. I keep myself as safe as I can for Maika's sake. Do you get it? I love my sister." The sincerity was as sudden as it was striking. Touma had only seen an expression like that on Tsuchimikado's face in one other moment. Even if he hadn't've been speechless, he would have said nothing as his friend continued, walking beside him as he raised his arms behind his head. "She is my reason for living this stupid, worthless, double-crossing, god-forsaken life. My justification. So what do the Hell do you think I'd do if she chose to go away? How the Hell would I feel?"

A sick weight crashed down into Touma's gut.

"...I don't know."

"Me either." Suddenly the spy again, Tsuchimikado flashed a cheeky grin as he leaned in closer. "Let's not find out."

And put Touma into a headlock.

!~~~~~~~~!

8:15 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 13: Border with District 21.

Between the faceless, nameless rows of squat buildings, a body stirred. The smoke of the Railgun had finally cleared, wafted away into the night. But even now, strange eldritch lights dimly lit a small section of road before disappearing.

And then Rasputin sat up, brushing a light dusting of snow that was beginning to form on his exposed belly. The round hole in his shirt and coat was torn and charred, but the flesh was healthy and fresh.

"At least there is less blood than I expected..." Grunting, grimacing, the tall man pulled himself upright. He spared one more look at his surroundings, but was already nodding, confident smile back upon his face. "But there was more power than I expected as well. It is well I hid my full extent, or this might have turned troublesome. And well I lied to her about my business being concluded, or the whelp might not have absconded so quickly."

He wandered a short way, back towards where the girl had first found him. But he frowned, pausing. Finally he pulled out a small scrap of paper from his pocket, crumpled but otherwise intact, and spread it open between his hands. Upon it was a print out of the city, overlaid by a carefully drawn clock-face. He squinted, peered closer.

"...Yes, this must be it then," He mumbled as he put it away, knelt down, and pressed his hands onto the ground. Thin lines of magic instantly spread out, a magic circle forming, glowing briefly before fading.

Rasputin straightened and sighed, stretching his back, work completed. And then he grinned.

"Now is the time for my own agenda."

!~~~~~~~~!

8:15 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, The Learning Core, District 13

Itsuwa ran.

It had not taken long for her foe to catch up to her. He had sprinted behind her, occasionally throwing his weapon at her fleeing form. She managed to dodge, but each one threatened to hem her in, throw her off balance, and force her into a clash she could not win. So she ducked and ran and eventually hid, drawing him back through the Learning Core's gate. As she ran she searched with her eyes, reading signs, seeking some way to make good her boast. Billboards advertised the Learning Core's aquarium, zoo, planetarium, libraries, yet nothing but the farm seemed suitable for her needs.

So Itsuwa ran, and soon found herself approaching the still burning barn of their past encounter. It's walls blazed, and a thick cloud of black smoke belched forth from its opened door. For now she was alone, but could tell from his distant bellowing that the warrior was drawing closer. She took a deep breath, and put her plan into action by ripping a scrap of cloth from her hem. She took it to her lips, breathed first a small Magic into it, and then heavy breaths, blowing hard over and over.

She was almost panting when he finally arrived. "Is this where we fight now, girl?" Lu Bu's voice carried further than his small frame would suggest but he still sounded closer than was comfortable. Stifling her nerves the girl turned and dropped in the best stance she could think of; spear held low and far ahead, ready to catch and parry a thrust. She watched as he approached, keeping her back to the building behind her.

He slowed noisily, grinding his feet into the ground, and squinted at her silhouetted form. "Trying to blind my attack angle with the light, eh? Clever, but useless."

"We shall see." She shuffled a step back in response, edging closer to the first.

His initial rush was blisteringly quick. Only her plan to fully retreat saved her as his blade crashed into the narrowly defending haft of her spear. It rung painful and creaked from the strain, but the edge of his weapon was mightily dented.

He spat in frustration as she moved closer still to the fire, tossing aside his weapon to summon another. Yet when he readied another charge, he found himself yet again to slow. Surprise stopped him completely when he saw her run into the inferno of the farm, and after several seconds not emerge.

It glowed too bright for anyone to see within, and the smoke burned his eyes, but still Lu Bu laughed. "Is this the fight I was promised? Who can burn to death slower?" There was no response, and he strode closer, close enough to feel the heat on his face. "So desperate to avoid me you'd rather burn!?"

"Come and get me! Please!" So the inferno's smoking maw taunted.

The politeness of the challenge gave Lu Bu nearly as much pause as it's source. "Please? Please!? What sort of..." The fires still raged, but the voice had clearly come from inside. "What!? In there!?"

"Yes. We fight here. Or is it too hot in here for you? I mean, you're wearing all that-"

"Silence!" Lu Bu pursed his lips, caught somewhere between rage and pensive annoyance. Finally he roared aloud, grasped his halberd in both hands, took a deep breath, and charged headlong inside. The air was choking, cloying, but its tendril's parted before his blade as it snaked straight towards Itsuwa, crouching low deep within to escape the flickering walls of fire around her. One hand held the cloth she torn to her face, so her evasion was just too slow.

The halberd caught her upper arm, scoring a thin slice as she pulled back frantically, but a second swing hit her raised spear to blow her backwards. She skidded in a long tumble that was only halted when she burst through the barn's rear, which weakened by fire crumbled around her in sparks and splinters. A sixth sense keep her moving away as Lu Bu casually swept aside the wreckage, ignoring the thick smears of smog that covered both himself and the girl as he stepped outside to follow her.

"I could sense you clear as the brightest day in there. A fire's no place to hide from me." But he paused his assault a moment, however. "Hmmm. Yet I figured that long in the smoke would have slowed you down enough for a direct attack. Another trick?"

Despite all the damage, the one thing Itsuwa had plenty of was air. "The cloth caught my breath, and stored it for when I needed it. That's all." She let it fall, Magic spent and fibers scorched. "An improvised Amakusan special. I was inspired by your own Magic."

"I need no homages." He shrugged his shoulders, dislodging bits of barn that still remained, before pouncing again, driving his halberd down where she had crouched. "Only blood!"

But he was denied as she turned, ducked and dove away, rolling into a sprint as he surged in chase. Sprinting now, no endurance spared, Itsuwa ran for a tall tower in the distance, circled by a ring of structures. One lay on the outskirts, and she chose a choice waist high window to toss her spear through. It pierced through with a shatter and she careened in after it, ripping from the floor in time to escape Lu Bu's quick appearance.

"In here?" He crouched in the window, sneering disdainfully as he scanned the simple office room. "When are you going to be satisfied with the site of your demise?"

He turned to look at her, but only saw a swinging door and a stairway, leading down.

Dashing to its lip he saw his quarry below, taking the stairs six at time. He did several better, almost closing the distance before the hit the bottom and entered a poorly lit underground tunnel. He sneered again, this time at the hanging bulbs, but did not delay long as Itsuwa fled.

One tunnel turned to another, but before they had gone far they entered a larger room, low ceiling but broad and with a centre full of storage and shelving units. Itsuwa hugged the wall as she entered, but Lu Bu slammed feet first into one of the shelves, taking the chance to swing his blade at her neck. She rolled to avoid as it bit into the wall, severing the cable that led to the rooms lights.

"Aagh!" For a moment electric charge rippled through the warrior, and he wrenched his arms free from the wall as the lights flickered. "Agh, not as bad as that other girl, but still."

Each resumed their stances as the flickering lights finally died.

Itsuwa forced herself to not move, not breathe, not even swallow, motionless, waiting for the first move, ready to react and sprint for the next place she could see her foe coming.

So when she heard footsteps fleeing the other way, she nearly dove into the wall in her confusion.

"Hhhhnnn!" Lu Bu grunted as he ran, his voice growing more distant as he went, back down the still lit passageway. "Peasant girl! Stay there! I... I shall return!"

Despite the darkness Itsuwa blinked. She listened, but found herself growing increasingly confident that she was indeed hearing his rapidly fading footsteps finally die out.

She dared to breathe. Still nothing.

Shuffled a step from the wall.

"...Are you gone?"

There was no reply. A full minute passed, giving the girl plenty of time to think.

But the reprieve was altogether to short as his footsteps returned. But his arrival brought more than his halberd, for he was presaged by a reddish glow. When he bounded round the corner, back into the darkened room, he bore a hunk of burning barn, held proudly aloft.

"Hah! Lu Bu always finds an answer!" He met Itsuwa's stare levelly, his proud smile slowly turning to a frown. "...What? What!? Do you not wish to fight me properly!?" But the girl turned and ran again. "Hey! HEY! You cannot just look at Lu Bu like that and not explain!"

Itsuwa ran.

But this time, with a lighter heart.

!~~~~~~~~!

8:15 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 13: An Alleyway in the Northern Quarter

"...So anyway, long story short, the girls were of course furious, seeing what those cultists were going to do to me and all, they had to save me. So they snuck into the abandoned farm I mentioned the back way, real quiet like, and then just let 'em have it, blamo! While they were distracted Floris hot-wired their van, she did a year in Juvie, and then we blew right through the dang barn-doors and left them without a sacrifice for Mrzzrzmtmzat, who of course they had finally successfully invoked. Served the jerks right, trying to sell me to demons. Me! At least they're probably in thrall to something awful. Makes me feel better, anyway. I just wish the girls had untied me from the back of the trunk before leaving, so I could have watched."

Lessar paused a minute for dramatic effect.

"Anyway, that's how I joined up with New Light. It's a pretty cool gang. We do Magic and stuff. Bayloupe's a bit of a... Well, otherwise it's fun. I'd tell you how I got here and all, but I expect that's a little confidential." She pursed her lips, drumming the fingers of one hand against the back she sat on, the other idling swining the thick live wire. "Man, this sure is boring, isn't it?"

The witch waited in silence for a moment before looking down at her improvised seat. Afu Asu, on hands and knees, bent beneath her in silence with his chin resting on his chest.

"Hey? Hey!?" Though the live wires did not touch him, when the cable tapped against his shoulder Afu twitched as if electrified, head snapping upright and alert. "Are you listening?"

"Ah yes! Yes, ah, I am! Listening!"

She shifted as he stretched his stiffening arms, growling fiercely at the boy she had thoroughly intimidated. "Better be. Oh, and If my butt gets anything more than toasty, I'll roast you like a..." Lessar searched for something non-blasphemous. "...Squirrel on a power-line or something. I'm sure that's fine."

"Yes Miss, as you say Miss!"

"Very good. You're learning. Where was I?" When he didn't prompt her, she shrugged and went on, twirling the end of the wire. "Anyway, after THAT..." But just then, an idea occoured to her. "...Say, I don't want to do all the talking, tell me a little about yourself."

"...Ah... Me?"

"Yeah, you."

"Well..." He tried to shrug, but gave up the effort half-way. "You already know my name. I am from the land of the Earth Mother and Fire Father, but I died and-"

"Go-I mean, gosh, you're green. Listen." She leaned forward, bringing her grin to his ear with sadistic pleasure. "I've decided this is an interrogation now. You know what that means?"

"...No?"

"You tell me things about your nefarious plans or whatever or I shock you."

"Nefarious? I-I'm not sure I understand. Miss." He quickly corrected himself, shaking his head slightly. "I mean, we're just trying to fix the mistakes, that's all-"

"Talk or shock."

He stared only a second at the exposed wiring she began to dangle before his eyes. "Yes, yes, I will! But what is it you want to know?"

"What's your plan for coming here? What the heck are you even trying to accomplish?"

"Oh, I already said that. We're here to fix the mistakes."

"Buster, from my point of view showing up here was your biggest mistake."

"No, none of this will matter." He was already calming down, immediate fear of pain gone. "I don't like being shocked, but I was told none of this would matter, and it'd all be better in the end. Miss Baker said that."

"Uh huh. Did she now." Lessar paused for a second, mulling the answer. "Sounds culty. And I would know. So what were you doing out here?"

"Oh, just my part. I was given a simple Magic to activate, nothing impressive. All I had to do was come to this area and set it off. I don't even know what it really was, I'd never seen anything like it, but I was told it was very important."

"And you succeeded?" He nodded. "And you don't know what it does?"

"Sorry, Miss, but I really don't, I was not trained in all this incredible Magic everyone else seems to have. Weapons, this lightning bound and controlled, it's impossible to understand! But I will say, the Magic was simple enough for even I to use with just a bit of practice."

"You sound so naive I actually beleive you. Do it again. The spell," she added, when he hesitated.

"Again?" He looked up, unsure, but instantly remembered his predicament. "Yes, of course, hold on..."

Lessar tensed as he moved, ready for any hint of betrayal, but her assessment of his character seemed correct. He shifted his palms slightly, closed his eyes, and cast.

A simple magic circle spread outwards from them, over the cracked concrete. It glowed a dim white light, it's border a single rune repeated. As quick as it came it went, and the back-alleyway returned to normal.

Lessar laughed. "What, that's all? Pfft."

"I'm afraid I don't-"

"It's just a marker, a way point. I guess it's closest to a ping with a time stamp attached, but I guess you wouldn't get that reference." Lessar sighed, shaking her head. "Oh you poor little sucker, you were just a diversion. This can't be the real threat."

"Oh... Oh, really...?" Afu slumped. "But Miss Baker said it was so important..."

"Ah, don't feel bad, kiddo." Lessar affectionately rubbed the much older boy's head. "Diversions have a purpose, I mean you took me out of the rest of the action, right? Having to guard you and all? That's a pretty big deal!"

"I guess so..."

"Yeah, now quiet up. I need to get on the line with HQ, I've got to update." She paused. "Wait, do they know I'm here? Am I in trouble?" Another pause. "Ah, whatever, this might get me out of it."

!~~~~~~~~!

8:20 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 21, the base of an unnamed wooded Mountain.

The wind whipped and the snow bit as Mikoto continued her furious ride. Though heavily forested, so far her path had been mostly cleared, leading efficiently up the mountainside.

 _Must be Anti-Skill or some research group. She squeezed her eyes to avoid the worst of the snowdrift, leaning down to hide poorly behind the low windscreen. At least it's convenient. Maybe I should stop soon and check my phone again..._

The path forked. Hardly pausing she took the right, and it curled up higher around the mountain's spine. She caught herself mid sigh.

 _...Before I end up facing yet another random villain. This is getting old._

Suddenly the path ended; or rather, turned aside and not further up as she sought to go. The wooded slopes were dark; the night was turning overcast, and her headlights could only do so much to make up for the loss of the starry sky. She slowed her pace and began to weave between the trees.

 _How does he keep doing this? I mean, I can handle late nights and constant fighting, but I just keep getting nowhere most of the time. I'm trying my best but always failing by degrees, just like with my sister's and Tree Diagram. I hate this._

An unseen branch swiped at her face. She spat and coughed and cursed as it dropped snow on her, but kept going.

 _He wasn't hurt all that badly, really. He's probably healing, I guess. He does well in hospitals. He's probably flirting with some English nurse. Heck, he's probably already out, doing something stupid, he's fine._

Clouds continued to gather around the mountain, seeming to spiral around its peak. It was isolated from the rest of the range, not just by geography but by the swirling clouds of white, circling it like the hood of a cloak, in choking embrace.

 _I wonder if he's lonely._

 _...Lonely?_

The alien thought lasted an anxious second,before she pushed it aside with grim determination. She revved the engine and pushed ahead, altogether faster than she knew she probably ought to. Riding past trees and occasionally over bushes, she squinted eyes against the cold and mumbled to herself.

 _Bah, the Idiot is never lonely. I mean look at him, he's got all these adventures and all these connections, these people he hangs out with, and all the different interesting, volup-...m-mature girls he knows. That idiot isn't lonely!_

A tree branch made the mistake of existing slightly too close to her chosen path: it left this world a smoking, splintered ruin one short blast of power later.

 _And look at this! He's got three of us-THREE! Chasing a girl we barely know but he cares about HALF-way around the world fighting historical NUTCASES, and_ now I'm racing up a mountain on a freezing December night to do God knows what trying to figure out WHY THE HELL I CARE SO DAMN MUCH!"

The cry echoed. Several creatures of the night scampered through distant underbrush as Mikoto fought for calm. She let her snowmobile drift to a halt, and it rumbled beneath her with tolerant stolidility.

 _I guess I'm the idiot._

She patted it weakly.

 _...And at least he has Index. Or he will, when I'm through with Miss Baker-_

There was a distant rumbling. The trees began to shake snow free which flew into the air.

The Level 5 froze, then twisted about on her seat in a panic, trying to see the whole through the trees. "What is that? Is that an avalanche!? Was that my fault!?" Just as it occurred to her that yelling more was probably the wrong response and that she really should stop, so too did the shaking. Fear's grip on the machine's handles loosened, but then the shaking began again. Yet this time, Mikoto noticed it was of a different intensity before it stilled as suddenly as the first time.

"What the heck...?" She and the snowmobile shot forward as she sought a clearing, craning her neck to peer up the mountain slope. The rhythmic rumbling continued when she finally reached an opening in the trees, yet she still saw nothing up to the peak but the swirling clouds of white. "So if it's not an avalanche... What the heck..."

For a second, a speck of colour floated in the sky.

And then it was gone, vanished into the white background.

And then it was back.

Mikoto narrowed her eyes.

"Why does that seem familiar-"

The speck suddenly grew larger; it was a person.

"What!? Wait-"

Then it was gone.

"Was that-"

Something rocked her snowmobile, landing on its hood with a light thump.

The esper spun ahead to see the equally surprised face of her roomate.

"Kuroko!? What are you doing up-!?"

"No time, hold on!"

A wall of white descended upon them.

But the teleporter's hand snapped out and the scene popped out of existence.

The two were floating in the air, then floating somewhere else, then suddenly they were on the ground, and Mikoto was dragged behind a tree into a bush. Her attempt to protest for her dignity was muffled by a gloved hand, and no sooner had she been silenced than a maelstrom of white snow whipped above their head, painfully shrieking wind ripping apart the tree tops. It passed quickly, but a few more second followed before Kuroko loosened her steely grip.

Mikoto to the chance to lean in close, speaking in a harsh whisper. "...What was that!?" Her confused indignation quickly lapsed to concern when she noticed her friend's ragged breathing. Yet the Judgment agent spoke through her

"Onee-sama, I don't know why you are here, but a very dangerous criminal is currently attacking me. I thought you were just a random civilian so I first tried to lead her away, but when I saw it was you I..." The girl trailed off, lost in calculated thought.

The Level 5 watched her friend, shock turning quickly to sharp concern. "A criminal? I've dealt with a few tonight already. Look, let's go-" But Mikoto realized that she was not being heard through the teleporter's mumbling.

"...While it is Judgment's duty... And I should wait for Anti-Skill..." Finally the Kuroko shook her head. "I'm not even sure if I have this power, but I'm deputizing you, Onee-sama. Uiharu and I desperately need help."

"Really?" _That's a surprise, she never... But I won't argue with it._ "I mean, of course, let's go! Where is this guy, I want to-"

"Fighting? No, sorry, I was unclear." Kuroko's reaction was sudden, almost violent as she held down Mikoto from her fighting stance. "We don't intend to fight, we need your help to escape."

"What? That's stupid, this is a bigger thing than you...?" Am I being ignored again?

"-If we can get a message back, perhaps the city can work to isolate and contain this threat with unmanned... No, that wouldn't work, too much raw power, maybe evacuation-"

Nothing about her friend and partner's attitude made sense to Mikoto. _She's distracted all right, but tense, almost... Afraid?_ "...What's so bad you need my help just to get away? You can teleport, radio or something, right?"

"We don't have long. I'll summarize."

!~~~~~~~~!

Flashback 26 minutes to 8:02 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 21, Monitoring Station 21-B on an unnamed wooded Mountain.

The blast of onrushing frost and snow nearly consumed the startled girl, but she had just enough time to teleport backwards, stumbling from her own uncontrollable reflexes. She recovered just quickly enough to watch the attack dissipate as quickly as it came, and like a parting veil she saw the shrouded woman on the other side, looking thoughtful.

"My. You're faster than any I've ever seen before, child. Or was that some kind of Magic?"

Before Kuroko could process her next actions, the door to the facility that shadowed them all burst open. Two men dashed out, noting the two girls with confusion before turning weapons on the old Chinese woman looking, now walking towards them.

"Don't move! We'll shoot! Stay there, don't move!" The lead one had barely enough time to spit out his threat before he made good on it, so little did the assailant react. [3] The bullets had even less effect. They passed through her harmlessly, little holes opening and closing in her body.

"Be still." She stopped approaching, but casually tilted her head with a little flick to the side.

At first the two men ignored her, one firing with increasing alarm and the other scrambling for a radio. But quickly they changed, stiffened and shook, eyes widened with shock then glazed with dark of unconsciousness. From their ears, eyes, noses and mouths thin bands of steam streamed into the biting wind, following the direction of the woman's gaze until they were lost in the snow, added to the maelstrom.

Their bodies fell, dried as a mummy, barely twitching. But on the body of one, a radio fuzzed, buzzing barely understood demands for update. The woman looked at this with mild interest.

"Some kind of communication artifact? But through the air? How convenient." With no effort at all she flicked her head again, hood settling lower.

Kuroko heard through the radio cries of anger, alarm, fear, then strangulation. Even the frozen night could not bring colour back to her face. And when the woman turned her gaze back-

!~~~~~~~~!

"-I tried to distract her, but it was all I could do to evade before she drew the water from me as well. [4] The others are safe I think, since I've been keeping the invader occupied, but they can't radio Anti-Skill for help. And even if they could, Anti-Skill cannot handle something this. But I can only keep this up so long."

"Damn it." Mikoto though it through as quickly as she could. "So a water manipulator, but what level? 4? Maybe 5?" _Maybe worse, since she's probably using Magic like the rest._

"She's powerful and accurate. Worse, she can sense through water molecules in the air, well enough to track me when I teleport. They even when they interact with radio waves. My only plan has been survival, dodging then hiding for as long as I think I can keep her focused. Who knows what damage she intends to inflict."

"We have to stop her."

For a split second, Kuroko frowned, as if she wanted to argue. But she sighed. "Do you have a proposal? One that is not ridiculous, I might clarify."

"Not really. But there are more like her out there tonight. They're tough, but I have already beaten a few." Or let my friends- No, focus.

The Teleporter's weary eyes widened in admiration, not noticing a moment of weakness. "Of course my Onee-sama has already won! But wait, you weren't deputized then, what-"

"Wait." Something prickled on the edge of Mikoto's senses. It was fuzzy, ill-defined, but it slowly encroached from all directions. She looked around and saw a fog of white powder had materialized slowly, hiding the treetops and distant trees from them. The snow at her feet shifted.

"Hold on!"

An avalanche from all sides swept in, but they popped away, teleported up to the open sky to watch as a swirling snow-globe shredded branches beneath their boots. Not far away the woman stood atop a thick pillar of white, which tilted and surged towards them. But rather than attack, the woman slowed, watching the two girls materialize one last time in a clearing. She then shouted down to them in a raspy voice, filled as much with amusement as exasperation.

"You are certainly making me work harder than I expected! You're not just fast, are you girl? Who are you?"

"I am Judgment, ma'am! And If you want to talk, we can do so in a cell!"

"Very well. I am Madam Shi. Ching Shih of the Coast."

Mikoto braced herself for a fight. _That name's familiar, but this isn't the time._ "And I'm-"

"Not you." She silenced Mikoto with a withering glare, but then hesitated. "Oh wait. You are new. Are you like the boring ones who ran into that strange building to try to hide? Or are you like miss Judgment?" It was impossible to under her hood, but the voice sounded like it came from behind a smile. "Two against one might actually provide some diversion."

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] If I were being honest, most of these would be hospital bedside scenes. No one should be surprised by this.

[2] I'll leave this to the sleuths.

[3] If you're wondering why guards would be so trigger happy, don't forget they have video surveillance. Even in Academy City, most people would be plenty concerned about what was going on outside before hand. Also, rubber bullets.

[4] I desperately wanted to do a well based pun here, but I ran dry on ways to fit it in without it being awkward.

[5] Way too long someone asked about my opinion on NT 18. I can only say it was an instant classic, vindicated some of my own thoughts of Crowley, but completely blindsided me with the outcomes. On the whole, excellent. I have only just started NT 19 tonight. I am looking forward to it.


	63. Part 3: Chapter 7

**I pray that I got this next chapter up fast enough to feel good about it. My goal is to put this baby to rest, not because I want it to be over, but because I want it to be complete.**

 **For now, though, I can say I finally had time to write this AND read NT 19. I'm annoyed, but not too surprised, at how many details I'll have to change to remain even remotely canon at the time of final review, but that's okay. Didn't expect the twists on certain characters the last few books, that's for sure... I'm debating changing some characterizations, but future events may allow for what I intend here anyway. I may just leave the altered timeline as it is, I may incorporate some novels but not all, or I may try to work up to what is current once I am done (as hard as that may be, given the... Somewhat penultimate flavour that NT 19 held, but who knows).**

 **But for now, please allow me to welcome you back to Part 3 of a Certain Holiday Season.**

 **Chapter 7**

8:30 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 21, the slopes of an unnamed mountain.

"Oh, I am definitely not boring." Mikoto kept talking. The woman was slowly descending and approaching, a subtle attempt to close the distance which suited the Level 5 fine. _Just come into range, please and thank you._ "How about I show you?"

"If you insist." Ching Shih [1], their mysterious attacker, groaned loudly, stretching her arms as her pillar of snow gradually loomed nearer. "In truth, I would prefer you die quietly so I can relax. I am an old woman, you know."

Mikoto finally felt the moment right. "Too bad," she said, as she raised her fingers.

The bolt of lightning arced to the old woman's body, linking up in a display of brilliancy that blew away the nearby snow. She fell limp then crashed down into the tower that had sustained her in the air, both now piled up before the two girls.

 _Snow's not much of a conductor, but your body will do just fine._ The two approached where she fell, a charge brewing round Mikoto's brow, Kuroko's hand latched to her wrist.

So when the wind blew, and the pile turned empty, neither were caught off-guard when she was nowhere to be found.

Mikoto had time to register the sudden change in scenery, trees shifting down as Kuroko teleported them upwards, but was still shocked at the whirlwind of violence which engulfed the space they had all stood. A wide circle of 30 feet or more had been torn up, all the way down to the frozen dirt now cratered with pools of melted snow. Amidst it all stood the old woman.

Casually watching them as the hung in the sky.

The two girls alighted after another warping jaunt, landing back next to the treeline. Yet a shroud of snow wrapped before them both, and when it passed the woman stood before them, no great distance at all.

"Good. I tire of shouting." Through a half closed mouth she sighed, and half lidded eyes she watched them. "So you are like her, and in turn something like I. A pity it took this long to meet such a preponderance of those like me. Maybe you will have more understanding of my nature."

Most of the speech was confusing to Mikoto, but it wasn't in her nature to not respond. "...You're not half as feeble and old as you're acting." _The one didn't die young. That's a bad sign, I think._

"Half right, and half wrong. I feel stiff still, and fragile. I am as old as, even older than, I remember." She spared a minute to look down at her hands as they slipped forth from her sleeves, notched and wrinkled with time. "But in some ways this body of mine is unusual. I feel like I have boundless energy. A good thing about this forced resurrection, one supposes."

"Are you... Turning yourself in?" As Kuroko spoke, Mikoto spared her partner a glance, noticing the steady stream of steam that accompanied her near-panting breath.

The old woman smiled, an expression imbued with a strange mix of disarming and alarming. "No. I merely wish to ask a question. A trade. I will give you a break, as you seem to need, if you give me an answer." When neither girl responded, she continued, still smiling. "What exactly am I? What, are we?"

"...Espers. But you're different." Kuroko tightened the grip on her wrist, but Mikoto continued. "You're a gemstone. Someone who develops an ability to impact the rules of the world without needing something external, like the Power Curriculum Program or... Anything else. In other words, you're an anomaly to the natural order."

"Onee-sama. I'm not sure-"

"I know. It's okay." _I need to buy a little time to think anyway._ "Your powers seem to be based on controlling water. I know a girl like that here, too. But she had to train herself and study constantly to use it."

"I had to practice too, once, and then I lost most of my skill with age. But now it comes as easy as when I was at my prime." The woman held her hand outstretched, sending little streams of snow weaving through her fingers. "I rarely ever saw snow when I was alive. Just twice. And then just falling on water, as I sailed more northerly seas."

 _And she's still that good with the stuff._ "Showing off, huh?" Mikoto focused her mind, building up potential as sparks trailed through her hair. "Kuroko, hold off on this next one."

"No. Merely lost in the past." The smile ended. "A past I intend to undo. Thank you for answering. I will make this quick."

Without even a flicker of motion from Ching Shih two spears of snow lashed forward. Kuroko tensed, but stayed firm as they smashed just feet from their faces into a spray of vapor of steam, ablating as it struck a crackling barrier. The old woman raised her chin, looking her down her longish nose at the girls as if it was her pride and not her attack that had been impugned. Mikoto was only happy to indulge.

"If you run a comb through your hair and hold it next to the faucet, you can watch the stream jump to the side.[2] The way you whip that snow around so fast is enough to start melting it, and that's all I need. A strong enough static field can ionize water in the air just fine. You can't just keep using the same old moves on me."

"I do not quite understand how your own power works, but I am clever enough to see I must slow my attacks on you. Yet that girl is already too fast." Ching Shih's lips pursed tightly. "This may turn out to become burdensome, I really should have just drank her dry when I had the chance. Curiosity gets the better of me again."

"Yeah, well, deal with it." Mikoto's hand snapped down to her pocket, reaching for a familiar shape. "Kuroko, you ready?"

"Yes."

The old woman sighed. "They always try to fight heroically."

Their fight renewed, a whirling exchange of snow-driven slashes, lightning arcs and the occasional explosion of a railgun burst, whipping through the sky and between trees, each side seeking the other, avoiding attacks. But a problem emerged as Mikoto quickly realized none of her attacks were connecting any more. Before every bolt the old woman faded away, before every railgun she was obscured by a cloud of snow. And everywhere they went, the mass of powder she controlled kept building.

 _It's all around us now-._ "She's trying to trap us!"

"Clear holes for me to jump! I can't teleport into snow!"

Even for their practised tag-team the battle wore on, a constant series of high speed, high energy engagements that devastated the mountainside. The landscape was further torn by a high storm that had brewed, the clouds of white turning dark; snow began to fall in earnest, almost as if the sky were supplying their opponent with ammunition. But unlike that old woman...

... _We're getting tired._ Gritting her teeth, Mikoto spared a second to cast her gaze around the mountain. _Lightning and railguns can make a lot of heat, so I can keep melting the snow down, but_ _I'm on top of a mountain in December._ As she thought, down below she could just barely hear her opponent talking to herself, as distracted as a mother playing with her child while talking on the phone.

"And how that whippersnapper insists upon all this play-acting in her plans, what a waste, what a waste. Though I could have used someone like her when I was alive. In more than one way..."

"Kgh!" One teleport came too late, and they took a huge sweeping blow directly to Mikoto's field, driving them back and down. Kuroko corrected and teleported, but this time in a sudden series for a rapid escape, leaving Mikoto disoriented until she saw trees all around and they were back in the forest, safely hidden.

"Onee-sama..." And saw her friend leaning up against one, eyes closed. "I don't think I can keep this up for much longer."

"..." _I'm better off, but I need to move on, I can't be stuck here fighting while Index is still missing, while Miss Baker still has free rein. But if I do go, even if my friends escape this woman has already shown she'll attack without scruples... What will happen to the city? A few others around could take her on, but would they help fast enough? And in the meantime..._

"Onee-sama?"

 _I promised I'd save everyone and not compromise anything, just like... But it's impossible. I need to deal with this right now AND keep going. I've got to keep to a schedule and push ahead but conserve energy and win without losing a damn thing!_

"What are you thinking about?"

 _...So I just need to do the impossible._

The ground rumbled.

But only slightly. Not fierce, not angry, not even subtle, like one of the old woman's attacks. Instead it was a gentle buzz, the kind that you felt when something large and innocent passed by. Neither could tell quite what it was, until both realize they had returned to a familiar landmark. Turning they saw the side of the large Anti-Skill and research facility astonishingly began to move, as a huge upturned semi-circle began to spin and split open. A long tube of white polished metal emerged.

Between panting breaths, Kuroko realized it first.

"...Is the telescope opening?"

!~~~~~~~~!

"Do you think they see it, Saten-san?" Uiharu sat at one side of a control panel, pausing to send an anxious glance at the bodies they had dragged inside or laid on the floor. Anti-Skill, guards, and scientists alike had been incapacitated, but they still breathed, if only just. "We need to end this and get these people help!"

"Yeah, of course they do! They can probably feel it, the way this is wobbling my butt." Saten sat at the other, fingers dancing with only mild success upon the console in front of her. "Now, let me just quickly check..." She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, no longer held back by her winter hat, to better read the technical writing on the machine before her. "...Yeah, okay so it's gyroscopic. Just like an arcade game, easy. I'll just swing it around and signal them! This thing can do that, apparently, if I find the right command..."

They sat on one side of cavernous room as a humongous telescope, big enough to stand inside, pivoted smoothly above them, all it's vision electronically funnelled to their view. Wind fought the telescope, but soon they saw bright flashes sporadically lighting the highest reaches of a dark, stormy sky.

!~~~~~~~~!

"Why are they doing that? The invader will find them if they make such a display, and we're not distracting her right now!" Kuroko's anxiety was well founded; while there was silence for a while, a wicked wind began to rise along with a cloud of snow in the distance.

 _I don't know why, but it can only be one thing!_ "They must want us to go to them! I don't know why, but they wouldn't do this without a reason!" Mikoto stared at the now revealed telescope, framed against a night sky. Lightning flashed, an ominous homage to Dracula's castle.

But to the Railgun, lightning was never a bad sign.

"...You go alone. I'll handle her.

"What? Onee-sama-"

"We still have our phones, I'll call if you if I need to, but if she can track radio through the air, she'll probably notice. Right now, get to them and figure out their plan. I'll hold her back, and try some tricks of my own."

Kuroko stared for a moment, loyalty to her idol and duty to Judgment warring with necessity. But eventually a soft, trusting smile won out. "We'll be ready with a plan, then.

The Teleporter vanished.

Just then, her phone pinged. Surprised at the early call, she realized it was another source. Another enemy had been tracked down, which meant another battle on the horizon.

 _But for now, let's make good on the impossible._ Tools would be needed for this task; luckily Mikoto's senses found exactly what she needed in the wreckage of the facility's broken fence, large stretches wrapped around nearby trees. She wrenched them loose, and with magnetic power set to work with her crafting; two large metal construction, curving up and away behind her back. She felt her electricity run through them, felt the resistance they gave. Felt their potential to draw power.

"All right. Let's heat things up a little."

!~~~~~~~~!

8:38 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District Unknown, Undisclosed Control Centre

"There. On to the next data source, my assistant." Kihara Raito watched as his data was sent, visualized as a glowing pulse striking an isolated signal in the high mountains of a distant district. "Time to review."

Standing still, the scientist raised both his arms and wrenched them suddenly to one side, like someone sliding a heavy screen door open. The pale holograms surrounding him spun in sympathy, whipping away to be replaced by a series of artificial screens displays graphs and charts and particle projectiles. He view each for a second, raising his eyebrows at some bits and plucking them out with his fingers, stitching them into a larger whole. With a minutes labour he had a series of completed calculations, whose output he viewed with interest.

Then he laughed once, low and loud, more a bark than anything else. "Intriguing. But to confirm... Input one; the second set of intruders are both the cause and centre of the time-based disruptions around the city." He intoned to himself in a bored voice, but with an edge of amusement twisting his lips. "Analysis shows discrepancies in multiple high-accuracy atomic clocks throughout various facilities, but lack of response shows no one else yet notices the disruption. Yet more interesting still...

"Input two; Same group, confirmed as Gemstones but with ancillary traits, have been performing some sort of... Experiment, perhaps, throughout the city, which appears to be the source of a second set of deeper disruptions, quantum in nature. Emergency testing ordered from the outer wall's embedded particle accelerator establishes this: tests with once predictable results are showing different, seemingly random anomalies. [3] Unclear yet if fundamental laws are breaking down on a larger scale, or if localized only. Also unclear is means by which the changes are being affected, or how to stop or replicate them. Most importantly there appears to be a pattern behind them. But not a repeating method, or an obvious goal. Something more like...

"...An intelligence?"

Here he paused. Shook his head, re-framed his thoughts. His hand brushed silently through his hair.

"...Output one; The intruders appear to be altering local space-time, for purposes suiting some outside source. Output two; the best way to capitalize on a space-time disruption, barring any technical ability of my own to control the action itself, is to control the intelligence behind the action.

"Output three; it is time to modify my fireworks after all."

!~~~~~~~~!

Indeterminate time, December 31st: Chinese Airspace.

 _I can't believe I let my guard down! Again!_ "Aack! Gaagck! Timeouttimeout!" Touma patted the arm locking his head weakly, but it only when their struggles led them to slip in a spill of air-line brand fruit juice that he was freed. Rolling on the floor, he scrambled to his feet with a cough. "I thought we were done fighting!" _And dang it, I think I stained my jacket..._

And the spy just grinned. "Nope. Well, we were. But I've got a new reason now." He straightened as well, and dropped into a more serious stance. "I was right before about you not being in the right state of mind, but I wasn't sure why-nyah. But now that I've got a hunch, I'm going to press you until you acknowledge it."

Touma was getting exasperated. "Why!? Why is this so important right now!? Can't you just grill me at lunch tomorrow after this all done, or by passing notes during class!?"

"Are you kidding? We're stuck on a plane for at least 15 more minutes. We've got plenty of time."

Touma had no choice but to raise his fists. The two circled but their quarters were cramped. Though they stood where the jet's seats opened up for quick access to the now sealed emergency hatch, it was still hardly 8 feet in any direction before some kind of obstacle appeared. Touma realized with a sinking feeling that he was at a terrible disadvantage this close. As they slowly revolved and spoke, his eyes kept darting to the floor, looking for some kind of equalizer.

"There, that's more like it!" The spy chuckled, missing nothing. "Never gives up."

"What's it gonna take for you to stop this and help me!?"

"Fair question." Tsuchimikado let his head tilt to the side. "Okay. If you can make me stop by the time we land, I'll admit you're fine and help you on whatever suicide stunt you want to pull. If I beat you, you have to fess up to your messed-up-ness and then we do things my way."

 _It'd help if I knew what he was talking about!_ "...And if we keep at it 'til we land?"

"We won't, for a few reasons. I'm going to take this seriously now. But if by some miracle that happens, we'll call it a draw and split up." The one-two punch came suddenly, yet Touma was ready for a surprise, pulling back with his guard up until his legs hit a row of seats-backs behind him. Spinning and ducking low he dove away from the quick series of jabs, guard held high to block as best he could. They circled like boxers, professional against amateur, and it quickly showed, the spy keeping his opponent on the defensive in each exchange.

They rotated, and Touma realized the light but precise nature of each punch. _Those blows were just probing my defence._

"I know you noticed. I'm playing it safe until I know I have you where I want. I won't underestimate you. I may have more skill and strength than you, but that's been true of most people you beat. So come on, nyah!"

"Is that an insult or not!?" The rain of rabbit punches continued, and Touma continued to back and circle, back and circle, watching his footwork almost as much as his defences. He tried to kick a candy bar towards Tsuchimikado but it was deftly avoided and carefully slid into the upturned cart. There seemed no room for an opening, and the ache in his right hand was becoming impossible to ignore.

For a second this was surprising, but then he noticed the bandages he had been putting out of his mind. Under them, Imagine Breaker was shaking, just as if it had blocked some incredibly strong Magic. But it did not ring out. There was nothing to break.

 _...He was intentionally hitting my guard. Targeting my hand._ The wound he had forgotten about pulsed with pain, and Touma realized he had been unconsciously favouring it during their fight so far. He realized how much that must have slowed him; worse, how easy the spy must have been taking their fight until now.

"Been trying to ignore the pain, huh? Well, I'm here to remind you about it. In more ways than one. So let's talk a little."

Touma said nothing, eyeing this new development with suspicion, but the match continued even as the spy chatted.

"So, you keep acting like you know what everyone wants, nyah."

 _He's fighting like a boxer, hands up... I need to break his concentration._ "...S-so?"

"I've been wondering. That's a little-" The exertion of several jabs caused the spy to pause, then dancing back a half step and bouncing lightly on his feet. "Little wrong-headed, don't you think?"

 _Why is he jumping around so much? Is he trying to keep his movements unpredictable? I guess I should keep avoid close quarters then until I figure a counter..._

"Well, if you keep ACTING-" A strong lunching hook that closed the distance quickly near caught Touma unaware, but he stumbled and rolled against the wall, scrambling clear. "-like people want things, they're going to start thinking that's what you want them to want." The two squared off again, the spy still light on his feet. "You know?"

"Uh, yeah." _Okay, so maybe close quarters is the_ _best. But I'm weak in a grapple right now, I need an advantage..._ "I mean, I do?"

"Just think it through. Let's say someone wants to do something that makes others upset, nyah? Doesn't hurt 'em, but it's a little annoying. What should they do, huh?"

For a moment, the spy wasn't advancing. "...That depends. It'd be nicer not too." Touma hesitated, but no attacks came. "...But whatever they choose... They have the right to pursue what they want. At least If it's not evil or something like-"

"Good, good!" The spy clapped loudly, then darted closer with a rapid series of punches. "But _what if your idea of evil is wrong_?"

The strikes came in fast enough it was all Touma could do to raise his guard, and each time one struck Imagine Breaker the pain shot further down his arm.

 _Damn it, I've got to end this soon._ "I thought you were taking this seriously!?" In his desperate spin around the room, Touma's back found the upturned condiment cart. With his good hand he reached back and flung a variety of candy and packaged food, but the spy simply raised his own guard and danced back. When he lowered the guard there was no smile beneath his darkened glasses.

"This is serious."

The boxing match continued. The spy attacked, and Touma defended. And all the while, he thought furiously for an answer. _If I let this go on I'll be too sore and hurt to be any use later... And he probably wants me to see that and give up. That'd end this stupid fight right now._ _That's almost appealing..._

But something made surrender an option he just couldn't take.

 _Okay, so I just win. But I can't find an opening. If I strike even once and slip up, he has me, I won't be able to react. But I can't keep this up forever!_

It had become a matter of time.

And throughout it all, as if he had stamina to spare, Tsuchimikado kept up his attacks on a separate front. "If two people only want happiness for each other but keep assuming the wrong things cause it makes more sense to their own wrong impressions, is that right, nyah?"

 _Can't get distracted. Gotta watch his fists, think of a plan. Ignore-_

"What if your impressions of others is what's hurting them, you idiot?"

 _-Wait what does he, who does he think-?_

A foot spun around in a vicious arc at Touma's head.

 _Not boxing!_ The boy flung himself back as fast as he could but the violence of it threw him off-balance, and he fell backwards, taking an accidental seat as he did. As the spy transitioned from the kick into a diving lunge, Touma's hand, searching for a bracing point, found the reclining button instead. Taking advantage of the unwelcome momentum he leaned back with the seat, raising both feet to catch the fully airborne spy and fling him backwards, well over the boy's head and several rows of seats besides.

As fast as he could manage Touma was standing again, but he was only seconds quicker than the spy, who cracked his neck along with a cheeky smile. "...And that's what I meant about underestimating you." Taking careful footing atop one of the seats he had flown over, Tsuchimikado jumped back into the fray, feet dancing again. "Luckily I know how to take a fall."

 _This isn't going to be a battle I can win._ For the first time, a sullen lump of hopelessness began to fill Touma's chest with leaden weight. _Not with skill at least. Or tricks. Or endurance, or luck, so how can I win!? How can I show the ******* classmate of mine that I'm... That I'm..._

His face froze, in perplexed contemplation. Either that cue was enough, or the spy could hear the gears grinding furiously in Touma's mind, for Tsuchimikado paused, wary and ready for almost anything.

Almost. The answer clicked into place. Or at least, did an answer appropriate to the possessor of Imagine Breaker.

"...Gee..." Though there was no trace of change in his expression, Touma's neutral tone set the spy immediately on edge. "You know something?"

Tsuchimikado's only response was to raise his guard.

"The way you're taking the time to care about me..."

Now he backed away, but felt his back strike a row of seats.

"Give me all this concern... You know what that means?"

His attention was diverted for one precious second, checking the obstruction over his shoulder.

It was enough.

By the time he turned back Touma was diving forward, arms outstretched for Tsuchimikado's waist. Yet despite this setback...

"...Gotcha!"

It was instantly clear the spy was more than ready for this tactic: he twisted his arms into a receiving posture, assuming a low stance, ready to steal the momentum from Touma and punish the overstep with a painful hold.

Yet something was wrong.

In a split-second Tsuchimikado analyzed the approach Touma was taking, but the dozen counters he could think of were each missing something. Something in Touma's expression, the twitching way his arms shook. There was an element to the attack that all his combat experience could not grasp.

And so he also failed to grasp the body flung into his chest at high speed.

But he did manage to remain upright, arms held aloft, dangling Touma as he hung from his upper chest, knees just trailing about the group. Composure all but lost, he stared underneath the bottom of his shades at Touma's embarrassed but sneaky grin.

"W-what!?" The spy twitched but could not shift, was barely even able to speak through clenched teeth. "What is this hold!? I'm paralyzed, but this isn't a Dim Mak or a Nerve-Strike-Grapple! It isn't even a neck pinch!"

"You think I know any of that ****!?" Touma's grinned through gritted teeth, but was seemingly equally affected. All his strength was focused on this one moment.

W-w-w-wait... This isn't... This isn't a grapple...!" The answer dawned upon the spy, colour draining from his face. "So this is a... Is a...!"

"That's right, you son of a *****," Touma said, clinging all the more tightly. "This is a good old-fashioned-"

"Nooo!"

"-Nice and friendly-"

"No-no-no-no"

"Heart-to-heart, man-to-man-"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" With every last ounce of his willpower Tsuchimikado freed himself from Touma's clutches, and fell heavily to the ground. But panic gave him the strength to scramble away, as far as he could manage on hands and knees. "Oh God my all-too-short life just flashed before my eyes! How could you use such a vile technique!?"

"What's the matter, my so very good and close friend?" Touma's smile was manic, face twitching with ill-managed friendliness. "What's wrong with a little hug between good friends!?"

"EVERYTHING!" The protest became a cry of terror as Touma advanced, arms outlandishly outstretched, and the little arena they had fought in was forgotten as the spy beat a blind retreat. Back down the halls they flew, one with tears streaming from his eyes, they other desperately trying to hold back the awkwardness of his chosen strategy.

For a second, Touma lost him, but then he heard a forlorn banging on the cockpit. There was Tsuchimikado, slumped against it in despair: he collapsed further when he saw he was found.

"You've gone mad. Totally mad!" The spy attempted reason, now that flight had failed him. "We're guys, we're bros, we don't hug each other, only hot babes!"

"And how many babes have you ever hugged, you high school virgin!?"

"Gggh..." Touma's counter was instant, but now the battle was back to familiar territory. "You're no different; the only time you touch girls is by accident!"

"At least I do it! And I don't look like a tropical layabout who doesn't know what longitude Japan is in!"

"It's latitude! And I look cool in these shades!"

"You just look like you don't know how buttons work! And besides, you live with your sister!"

"YOU LIVE WITH A NUN!"

With a roar Touma dove atop him, and the two boys became a tangled pile of arms and anger, furiously raining ineffective blows and insults.

 _Oh, wait._

Mid-fight, Touma switched back to a hug. The abrupt change proved too much to handle.

"Agh! No! Stop! STOOOOOOOOOooooooooo-o-o-op!"

"What's a little hug between friends, huh!? What's wrong!?" Touma held on gamely, feeling his own will to live weakening, but something stronger drove him to drive the stake home.

"Aaaaagg, no, I give... I give... uncle, uncle... aaagrgrh..." The cries fell to a whimper as the spy collapsed dramatically in Touma's arms, fell limp. The shades tumbled from his face. The airplane fell silent apart from the omnipresent sound of the engines.

"I won." Touma sighed, holding his hands and watching them shake. Yet in his mind's eye, they dripped with blood. "But... But at what cost?" He was haunted by his friend's lifeless form, visions of a funeral, and the world's most pathetic tombstone. "No, no, no: was it worth it!? No, no no..."

Here lies Tsuchimikado Motoharu. Beloved of all. Survived by his sister.

Died of a hug.

"...What have I DOOOOOOOONE!?" [4]

!~~~~~~~~!

8:40 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 21, the slopes of an unnamed mountain.

The air crackled with electric potential as the storm above raged, brewed by the old woman's constant abuse of the mountainside and its sky. Even for the average person it was becoming visible as long bands of lightning stitched the clouds together.

For a level 5 Electromaster, it was a light-show of dazzling opportunity.

She felt for the power with her extended senses. Felt the chance, and shot a thin line of her metal fencing, wrenched free to hang loose, up into the sky like a kite-less string. The flash when it struck was blinding, but all Mikoto needed to see was in her mind, and the swirling computations of resistance and current filled her thoughts.

With the thunder clap she rose, eight iron wings crafted from battered fencing glowing red, vaporizing snow, framing hissing framing of once-snow into a more useful form, tendrils of steam that thrust downwards and around her, pushing her ever upwards, freeing her from the hard cold ground.

She flew. [5]

"HAH!" _Knew it would work!_ For a brief second, the elation was there, a feeling thought more dead than lost.

It lasted only as long as it took to be buffeted by a thick pillar of snow. As it rushed her, threatened to push her down, she curled her red-hot wings inwards; the roar of sublimation was intense as the pillar evaporated.

But despite her success, the attack was reality's harsh reminder.

"Well." Floating before the esper on a second pillar was the old woman, her gaze significantly more appraising than before. "What an unusual power. I did not understand it the first time, and I do not now."

Mikoto decided then and there she never would. One hand she pointed skyward. For a long second, she felt for a buildup of potential, primed the path of least resistance, and sent out a small leading charge.

Lightning struck.

The woman exploded into an illuminated cloud of water vapour along with her tower, blasted into an exotic state of excited plasma.

When the lights had cleared from the girl's eyes, they saw nothing but a swirling snow storm and the city, glowing proudly below.

 _Okay, that's an encouraging result. Better yet it didn't use up almost any stamina. Let's wait and see what-_

"I doo not know how yoou did that."

 _****._ Mikoto looked around, but saw no source for the distorted voice. _Okay, so containment is needed for this one, not force. Maybe-!?_

Her throat constricted. Caught somewhere between a terrible sickness and a garrote wire, she chocked, felt her blood freeze, saw steam rushing from-

Mikoto flared power, strengthening external fields, and the crushing force snapped, water vapour cut off from the old woman's control.

 _What the **** was that!?_ Mikoto hovered anxiously, rubbing throat and dry lips with her mitts. _Where is she doing that from...?_

"But waater is always water, no maatter what you doo to it."

Spreading her iron wings wide, the level 5 swept away all the snow and moisture in the air nearby. Yet the woman remained hidden, and as searched Mikoto noticed the glow in her wings had dimmed; she sent that same long wire back up into the sky, tempting another lightning strike.

"I cannot toouch that inside your body, thanks to your power. Or your wiings, or whatever thoose things may be. That would noormally suffice to anger me."

Finally lightning struck, and for a moment the wings were white hot, taking careful magnetic control just to keep in one piece. _Good, recharged, but where the heck..._ For a split second, there seemed a silhouette in the steam and snow, but it was gone before even Mikoto's powers could react.

"But to reeach out and blaast away my own water, to swaat me away like some kind of chiild..."

Distracted as she was, Mikoto only now noticed the shift in the sky. What had been a dark, overcast night was now even darker. She glanced downwards, and the city lights had been blotted out, a huge mass of grey between her and the ground. Moving. Roiling, boiling like a foamy sea. It extended all beneath her, swamping the base of her wings of steam, and reached up above her into the heavens.

As her gaze swept up her breath caught again in her throat. It was like the mountains themselves shifted; thousands of tonnes of snow in an airborne avalanche filled half the sky, a darker snowfall than had ever been seen. It rose up silently behind the old woman, unscathed but of dire expression, and began to fall towards her back.

"I do not appreciate that."

!~~~~~~~~!

"...Nothing yet."

"Saten-san, stop making that depressed face, I'm the one tending to people who have had nearly all their water removed through their noses! And they have it even worse!"

"Mrmgm." Saten grumbled through her closed lips, trying to swing the telescope around somewhere useful in the harsh storm. But try as she might, she could not get a good focus on the battle that must still be brewing, lost as it was in the giant snowball that had formed to fill half the sky.

But something changed; a dark shape obstructed half the image.

"Wait, got something!" Saten excitedly hammered the control panel, keeping her eyes glued to the screen. "Let me refocus an-"

Kuroko's face filled the screen, peering into Saten's with a world-sized eye.

"Aaaah!" Saten fell back out of her chair as her friend filled the view screen, teleporting suddenly to the telescope's outer eye. "Aaaaaah!" She cried again as that same friend appeared standing directly above her head, looking equal parts tired and puzzled. "Don't do that, why would you do that!?"

"What do... Never-mind." The teleporter, having caught her breath, knelt down to pick up the still complaining girl. "What are you two doing-"

"These people will be okay, but only if they get real medical attention soon!" Uiharu called across the room, shaking a bottle dry over the gaping mouth of a scientist before tossing it into a growing pile. "I've been giving them emergency water supplies but it's not enough!" She had a dozen people laid out in lines, each wheezing and gasping.

Kuroko frowned, rapidly considering there options. "I could go get them help, but the invader is still out there, and I can't leave Onee-sama alone to fight..."

"Wait, Misaka-san is here?" Saten roused herself from the computer, joining the others. "Then we're fine, right? She can just-"

"No. We are not fine, I am afraid." The teleporter ground her teeth, upset to be admitting this truth. "She can stall, but have no plan to defeat this invader. I watched the woman take a debilitating shock from my Onee-sama, but all it did was amuse her. I fear even the most powerful attacks will do little more."

"Yeah... I'm pretty sure I saw her get hit by an actual lightning bolt through the telescope... But oh!" Though Saten was despondent for a moment, she perked up immediately. "We have one of those!"

"A lightning bolt? Saten-san, what do you-?"

"No, no, a plan! A good plan! Right!?"

"Yes, Shirai-san." The flowered hair girl managed a smile despite the situation. "It was Saten-san's idea."

The teleporter was dubious. "Are you sure? I am dubious there is anything-"

"Come, trust me! Get over here, come-on!" It was not much of a fight, but still Saten dragged along the judgment agents, back over to the computer console were she stabbed an open book with her finger. "Look, I was reading this here manual really quick-" She stabbed it again, harder. "And I saw THIS."

"I do not know what I am supposed to be seeing. Quickly, Saten-san."

"This line, right here! On the specification of the telescope's operating standards! And this, this bit here about the signal! Man, I'm glad I didn't aim it at you two!"

Kuroko read. Saten quivered with energy.

"...Are you suggesting-"

"Yeah! She's an esper who controls water, right? What better place? Nearby, I mean."

"...I don't know if I can do this: it requires a high degree of precision with an unwilling passenger. If we are not careful we will end up suffocating her. And we'll be ruining a piece of highly specialized equipment even if we do succeed."

"...But?"

"...But it should work."

!~~~~~~~~!

The old woman disappeared as the mountain of snow parted around her, bearing down like a pillow to smother the life of Mikoto's fledgling hope.

The only response was flight; Mikoto pushed off the snowy walls as best she could and darted for the rapidly closing opening of the gigantic snow-trap closing around her. For a second all she could see was illuminated by her own glowing wings, so near the snow came to crushing her, wings and all.

She drilled through the outer wall with one final push and was gone, rocketing upwards and away, wings warm but cooling fast. With desperation she slung her charging line up into the clouds, following it in afterwards.

 _Break line of sight, gotta think... If I can't just blast her away, what can I do to-_

It took Mikoto a second too long to remember what clouds were made up.

Though she had no need to fear the electricity of the storm, the dark clouds themselves grew darker still, and great hands of water grappled her wings, pinning them together, crushing the thin wires of the fencing that made her flight possible. In a scream of tortured metal one whipped off, flailing to be lost in the night as it fell.

But finally, lightning struck. The heat and power in her remaining wings forced away the encroaching hands and Mikoto pushed down instead of up, plummeting now at break-neck speeds. She had regained some power, but lost a wing in the trade.

 _Okay, she can move a lot, but not that fast as long as I'm not literally in water. I can do this. Just gotta think._ Heart pounding, Mikoto focused her thoughts. _Near total control of water in any form, but unlike how Mental Out is precise, this is very broad. And forceful. So I just need to figure out how cut her off from her strengths._

She looked around.

 _Up here in winter._

Looked down.

 _On a damn mountain._

Looked up.

 _In a damn blizzard._

Cursing inwardly the girl swept downward, finally slowing her descent into a fast-paced glide, swooping over snow covered treetops. Looking back, she watched the mass of snow falling apart, disintegrating and losing cohesiveness as it fell.

 _So she'd rather let it go than drag it around. Good sign._ The beginnings of a plan formed, but Mikoto had little time to work out the precise details before the trees exploded.

Or rather, the snow exploded from them, sending branches and splinters all around, snow launching up like cannon balls to knock her out of the sky. More than a few struck home, bending and twisting her wings, forcing her to pull up and away. But in her path stood the old woman, once again atop her pillar, barring the escape. She could hear snow rushing up below her feet. For a split-second Mikoto considered further flight, a railgun, anything. But then she was upon the woman, and the only choice suddenly seemed the best one.

Pillars of heavy snow closed in from all angle, coalesced out of the sky, but the esper spiralled ahead, pulling her cooling iron wings inwards, stabbing towards the woman, missing but surrounding her on all sides. And then Mikoto threw on the brakes, pushed all her strength into generating a field around her foe, and prayed her plan worked fast enough to prevent the battering of snow that descended.

The walls of white hit her, buffeting her small body, but they fell without weight and soon passed below to fan out in a fine mist. Though no longer glowing, her wings still sizzled as what snow remained fell, curled up around the perplexed old woman.

"What is this?" For the first time, she gestured with her hands, and what little water she available to her dashed itself against the metal fencing. But before it could reach it was diverted, forced away by powerful electric fields. "Why can I not reach outside, when I can see through your little trap?" Her attempts grew more vigorous, each blow prompting an arc of power to crawl along the cage. But the trap held.

Mikoto sighed, finally catching her breath. "Thank you again, Faraday." It was difficult to both hover and imprison the old woman at the same time, but with precarious balance is was barely managed. "As long as I can keep you isolated from external water, I can limit your options." _Now I can think of a real solution._

"How? How are you caging me like this? No one can cage me, Princess of the Chinese Seas!" The prisoner grew increasingly agitated, testing the limits of the makeshift trap with each blow. Though the storm already seemed to be dwindling, Mikoto sent up her questing wire again, anxious to avoid wasting more energy.

 _She's a lot weaker without access to more water, but even if I could keep this kind of shield up forever I can't afford to. So..._ The esper paused in her deliberations, searching around the barren landscape for an answer. _...What the heck can I do with her?_

The answer materialized beside her.

"K-Kuroko?" Mikoto was startled both by the sudden appearance and the added weight as the teleporter clung to her. Clung a bit too closely. "...Kuroko!"

"Yes, I know Onee-sama, this is not the time for romance."

"How can you say that with a straight face when you're not stopping!?"

"Onee-sama, listen." Kuroko voice was all business, but her hands were maintaining a probing grip on the level 5's body. "We have a plan. Just follow me back to the facility, I can't explain where she can hear."

"G-ggahhhh... Y-you're so damn lucky I have to focus right now..." Squirming, Mikoto watched with worry as the old woman began to calm. "Yes, I'll follow, now let go!"

"As you insist." With nary a sound the teleporter was gone.

But another sound grew more worrisome still. Rather than batter the cage mindlessly, the old woman had formed the little water she had into a thick needle, its point endlessly pressuring a thin point of the containment.

 _Fine. You want out?_ Mikoto finally found the potential lightning strike she was waiting for, up in the sky. "Then eat this!"

Once again, the wings heated, but this time their heat was mostly trapped, obliterating the form the old woman held. But even as it did, Mikoto could see through the white-hot glare that she had just become water vapour again, so strong was her control. Still, it was a moment's opportunity, and taking the chance the girl unfurled her wings and whipped away, driving back up the mountainside towards the dimly lit shape of the facility.

!~~~~~~~~!

8:44 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, a certain police officer's apartment

The little girl named Last Order lay in bed, but sleep eluded her.

She had done everything right; she had danced herself silly listening to pop music once their caregiver had gone, snuck a late night snack, brushed her teeth and been tucked in by a scowling Misaka Worst before her standard late night prowling. But none of it made any difference. For something tickled the back of her mind, keeping her awake like a rough tag in a new shirt. It wasn't the thought of New Years fast approaching, though she did plan to awaken and watch the celebrations on the television regardless of what Aiho had demanded. It was something else.

The code she monitored between the sisters was wrong.

That code, which maintained their connection and made Accelerator's calculations possible, was misbehaving. Or at least, that was the only way Last Order could rationalize what she was feeling. Finally she sat upright in bed, tearing off her heavy sheets with a cry.

"Silly numbers, Misaka Misaka pouts, wondering why you can't just behave and let me sleep!" But nothing she yelled could calm their deviations. "Fine, Misaka Misaka will just have to deal with you, Misaka Misaka thinks as she prepares to contact the network!"

The little girl's mind, the decentralized hub of a network almost ten thousand strong, began processing every voice that answered her query. Some few stood out.

"Misaka wonders what the reason is for my breakfast to be interrupted, chewing with mild irritation."

"This Misaka notes the query posed by the Last Order may actually have merit, contrary to the opinions of the remaining eight thousand Misaka's who immediately closed the connection due to past experiences of superfluous questions."

"While Misaka notes there are some fluctuation in signal quality and arithmetic accuracy, they are easily accounted for. Misaka wonders if something should be done if the margin of error raises above 0.0015%, which would be a 430 times increase-"

"Misaka asks you to please keep the network quiet, as it is nearly New Years here on Wake Island and Misaka would appreciate enjoying her fun fire stick that sparkles in peace."

"This Misaka notes that most sisters are ignoring the current situation, much as we have learned to ignore Last Order."

"Misaka thinks that may not be the best way to-"

"Fine, Misaka Misaka cries as she gets out of bed and go on a rampage! Misaka Misaka will just have to go get Accelerator, Misaka Misaka exclaims as he heads to his room to...?"

She tiptoed further.

"...Misaka Misaka knows the hallway is supposed to be quiet this late, but Misaka Misaka still wonders why the door to his bedroom is still open this late into his scheduled brooding time...?"

He was nowhere inside.

Not his bedroom, not the living room, not the kitchen, not even the bathroom, a place Last Order checked with a timorous expression. He was no where.

Worst of all, the corner by the front door, in which his cane usually charged, was empty.

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] I forgot to give the backstory on this one last chapter. Ching Shih is a woman pirate, who you may actually be familiar with: she is the one woman on the council of pirates in the Pirates of the Caribbean series. Either way, that portrayal is a bit suspect. After being a prostitute she was captured by pirates, but managed to make her way to commanding whole fleets through sheer intelligence and brutality. She was a terror on the seas all right, but before she got too old she accepted a pardon from the Chinese Emperor. I believe she lived the rest of her life running a brothel.

[2] I always loved this trick.

[3] This detail is a minor spoiler from a later NT book, I forget which, maybe 17? But either way, it is not the biggest of plot points so I decided to add it in.

[4] He won. I guess? Maybe?

[5] Hopefully everyone here has read the Side Story with Mikoto in the tropical paradise or whatever. Spoilers, but she manages to use water vapour corralled with magnetism to propel herself off the ocean surface; effectively, to fly. This right here is a logical/illogical next step, I suppose.

[6] It's been a long time since the Misaka's way of communication has been in the novels, and I might have forgotten all their peculiarities and mode of referring to each other. Also, I apologize for a few more mistaken lapses in my story: it's been so long I've forgotten some basic rules! Onee-sama indeed. But I will forever blame auto-correct for preferring Bleach to Index. As always, if I screwed up I'm happier to know than not. Either way, thanks for the great response to my depressingly late return. I'll try to keep the chapters coming.


	64. Part 3: Chapter 8

**Well look at that. I am actually doing this little write-up before the final edits of my last chapter. Funny how much things have changed from Part 1, where I had 5 chapters acting as a buffer between writing and posting.**

 **Still, things are moving along, and we're coming close to the halfway point of Part 3. But really, it's only just begun, and things will speed up before they slow down; the gauntlet continues, but the mystery of what is happening is only just becoming revealed...**

 **I hope you can enjoy the process of its revelation; welcome back a Certain Holiday Season, Part 3.**

 **Chapter 8**

8:46 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 21, the slopes of an unnamed mountain.

Sparing a glance back, Mikoto could just about see the cloud of steam that remained from her parting shot taking a more concrete form again. _I've heard the human body is mostly water, but that's just overpowered..._ [1] But it was soon lost in the swirling blizzard that continued to rise.

So she turned ahead and flew back to the facility, now closer than before.

 _It'd help if I knew what the plan was. What if it goes wrong, and I have to something? Surely Kuroko could just pop over and tell me know what it is, and then I can review it, add my two-cents..._

She slowed her flight's pace, finally stopping just over the trees next to the clearing that separated the telescope's housing from the forest around her. There she hovered, thinking through her emotions.

 _If she's not here yet, and I don't see Kuroko..._

A dozen options raced through her mind. But only one was the clear correct choice.

 _...I'll just have to trust them. I can't keep doing things on my own, not if I want to criticize him for-_

A shake of the head derailed that errant train of thought. And none too soon, for a wind that had escaped her notice finally made itself apparent, bringing with it an even deeper cold than before. Her already sore cheeks stung as snow and nettles began to bite, and she shielded her eyes to look back where she had left the reforming woman. What could only be described as a tornado of snow carved a ragged valley through the thickly wooded forest. Full trees uprooted and crashed into rock faces, filling the air with branch and splinter.

 _Of course she's riding in front of it. Bit of a show-boater, I guess._

"It has taken me a while to get used to this form of water. Were I on open sea I would have drowned you a dozen times over."

 _More than a bit._ [2] "Look, if you want to fight, fight!" While the old woman's voice carried through the storm, Mikoto had to shout to even hear herself. So she was surprised when the answer came immediately.

"I know that you and the other one have a trap set for me up here. I come to smash it apart, so as to break your spirits and set you to flight."

 _Not reassuring, but okay._ "The only trap here is me!" She paused. "Wait, no I mean that in a diff-"

But the tornado drew closer, seemed to spin even faster.

A familiar rush of air announced Kuroko's return, hanging again from Mikoto's side, but this time the Teleporter was all focus. "Onee-sama, bring her back more!"

"All right, but I-" She caught herself. "-Don't miss the chance, all right!?"

With a nod, Kuroko was gone, darting back to the facility in three short jumps.

"Back from her rest?" Though the woman remained almost a kilometer away, her voice was laced with clear frustration. "I really am tired of you and your power, if I truly wish to return to her and such an annoying game of searching and escaping."

"Did you think we'd let you kill people and not try to bother you at all!?" Mikoto kept drifting back, watching anxiously as the tornado loomed closer and closer. All the whiles the wind picked up, tugging at her wings of metal and steam, threatening to toss her down the mountainside like so much chaff.

"No one has died yet, child. If I wished that, this whole city would be drowned thrice over." The woman was close enough to make out now, her figure still shrouded in a heavy hood. "And once I have my way, there will be no consequences for anyone. I will not fail."

 _Something about that doesn't sit right, but-_ Mikoto magnetically felt the big steel dome of the facility, half opened to reveal the still extended telescope, loom up behind her. So she abandoned her wings to crash into the forest, tumbling with the onrushing wind. Only her powers kept her feet firmly planted to the iron hemisphere. _-I'm running out of time here! WHERE IS THE TRAP!?_

It was becoming hard to breathe, so fast whipped the air from around her, but Mikoto stood firm, igniting a light-show of electricity in an effort to draw the old woman closer. They were close enough now to exchange expressions of determination; one cold and calm, the other crackling with tension.

The roof rumbled, and Mikoto felt a new force threaten to topple her. Her balance was secured with her powers but still it was a surprise.

With inexorable speed, the telescope began to swing, moving with it the iron dome. It swung towards them: or rather, Mikoto observed, since she was stuck rotating with it, towards the floating woman.

 _...How is this a plan?_

The old woman glanced at the tool with serene grace. "Aha. Is that your secret weapon?" She raised one hand, ready to smash it down with easy power.

"Uh." Almost flabbergasted, Mikoto could only answer with the truth. "It's just a telescope."

"Uhm?" The old woman paused, growing equally confused. She looked closer, squinting her old eyes. Finally she nodded, lips pursed in surprise. "Yes, so it is an eye piece, though larger than the ones I remember." The attack she planned was allowed to fall, and she turned back to an increasingly worried esper, still standing firm upon the roof. "What amusement. Was this plan of yours merely to get a better look at-"

Mikoto did not seem confident, so the old woman suspected nothing. Neither realized that the telescope had a second function. Neither realized it was a signalling function, meant to beam optical messages across mountain tops and, when at full-power, to orbiting satellites, in the case of substantial surface disruption.

So neither expected when a solid beam of light, scattering only partially across the snow, flashed straight into the old woman's smug grin.

!~~~~~~~~!

"Bulls-eye! And my first shot, too!"

!~~~~~~~~!

"Aaaiyeeehh!?" The old woman's scream of alarm was honest and intense.

Even Mikoto was blinded; for a few seconds the reflection from the woman's face alone seemed to mimic the noonday sun, dazzlingly bright. But for a narrow instant, just as her eyes cleared, the girl saw a blurry shape materialize next to the woman. Then both were gone.

Rubbing at her face, Mikoto fought to make sense of things only to notice that the winds were already dying down, along with the unnatural tornado. All that remained was a thick screen of falling snow, visibly thinning as it lost cohesion.

Kuroko reappeared a few feet from the roof's surface to land beside Mikoto; the level 5 took her hand and found herself inside an unfamiliar room, next to the others and the telescope's console.

"What just happened? Where is she? Don't just all of you look at the telescope like that, I want an actual answer here!"

"After Saten-san blinded her with the telescope's signalling array, Onee-sama, I teleported the intruder inside of it."

"Are you serious?" Though the others seemed confident, Mikoto was already shaking her head, expression grim. "There is no way that's strong enough to hold her, we have to-"

"No, look, it's a hermetically sealed sterile environment, with an internally controlled relative atmospheric humidity of 0.00015%!" Saten reached out to slap the telescope's central tub proudly, but realizing it was hanging several feet higher than she could reach settled for leaning against the computer console instead. "This baby is drier than a home-room lecture!"

The other two girls joined Mikoto to stare at their friend.

"...U-uh, did I say it wrong?" Saten turned back to the manual, flipping pages furiously. "I only skimmed this section, maybe I messed up the terms and-" [3]

"No, I understand, I'm just... How did you learn all that so fast?"

Though Mikoto belatedly realized that implied Saten knew nothing in the first place, the girl seemed to agree. "Oh, yeah, it was rough. But it's like reading a guide for the hidden tips when playing a new game. Look for important details and then figure out what you really want, right?"

"Oh, I get it now. I do that all the time." Mikoto said, nodding.

"But that does not make any kind of sense!" Kuroko exclaimed, visibly frustrated.

"It feels a little more like a cheat code, honestly..." Uiharu said, shaking her head.

Once the small argument had died down, the level 5 pressed ahead. "So your plan was to stick her inside where there is no water-"

"Precisely, Onee-sama." Kuroko interjected, perhaps sensing the possible objection. "And it is run on an internal climate utilizing advanced Academy City systems, meaning that even if she tried to manipulate the moisture in her own body, it would be removed nearly instantly. Hopefully she would desist at that before too long."

"Yeah, and it mostly was my idea, too, after Shirai-san mentioned the Anti-Skill signalling part earlier." Saten nodded, puffing out her chest. "I may not be computer smart like Uiharu-san, but I am good at figuring out games in a hurry!"

"Saten-san," Uiharu piped up upon hearing her name, "Is there some way to see inside the chamber?"

"What, you want a third-person perspective? Sure, I can do that." Seemingly random buttons were slapped on the console in rapid succession, but sure enough the screen changed to a black and white feed, revealing the interior. The old woman was already standing, flexing one hands and pacing in obvious anger. From the fingers of one hand something dangled, swinging aimlessly, not looking like any tool or weapon.

"We should inform Anti-Skill now about the wounded." Kuroko was already back in the saddle as Judgment agent, surveying the scene. "As for the invader, we need to develop a more secure, humane confinement for interrogation."

 _...Oh ****!_ "A-actually, how about we move these scientist and guards down, rather than bring anyone up here?" _I probably can't let Anti-Skill know too much about all this Magic business, and I almost forgot about the next signal!_

"Whyever for, Onee-sama? We cannot just pretend this did not happen."

The weight of their eyes brought a cold sweat to Mikoto.

"Well..." She quickly sought a reasonable answer, that preferably was not also a lie. "...They might not believe us about the old woman and how strong she is! Or, for that matter, be that happy about the telescope. And besides, it's better to get these people to the city proper for real care, which is all Anti-Skill will do, right?" She pounded her fist into her palm, buying into her own justification. "We can definitely tell Anti-Skill later, but this might be one of those things that needs some explaining. You know how the authorities are."

"..." Something worryingly close to understanding passed across the Teleporter's face as she paused, but finally Kuroko nodded. "I agree. I'll prepare a report with Uiharu-san. Saten-san can monitor the invader."

"You got it! It's like a prison sim now!"

 _Phew. I already know what a pain in the ass a double life can be like, but jumping through hoops for this Magic stuff... I understand you a bit better now._ Mikoto tried not to dwell on him, forcing an alert smile despite her increasing fatigue. The phone pinged impatiently, not quite muffled by her mitten. "Great. Now how can I get off this mountain in a hurry?"

!~~~~~~~~~!

8:51 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 9, upon the city streets

A certain scientific accelerator was walking aimlessly. [4]

Or at least, that was how it would appear to anyone stupid enough to stare. In truth, he was out for his second walk of the evening; his first had ended with a successful grocery trip. But this time, in the shadow of this district's various industrial and fine arts schools, he had a more nuanced objective.

Without turning his head, he allowed his eyes to flicker across the streets, this way and that, up and down. Following invisible vectors, or rather guiding them, watching their paths. Noting the strange slight deviations that seemed to be influencing them, on a very nearly random basis. Those strange forces that kept activating his Reflection in such a low-lever, annoying way.

They were not quite the strange non-vectors of Dark Matter, which Accelerator had encountered and surpassed. Those operated outside the standard laws of physics, but could be constrained within their own systems, their own rules.

This felt like the concept of vectors itself was becoming unclear. Fuzzy. Up to debate.

"What a load of ****." Not for the first time, Accelerator felt his temper rising. It was one thing for his powers to be avoided, or his wit to be outmaneuvered. But for his own field of dominance to be attacked was a challenge never to be ignored. Yet each time he thought he had a lock on the pattern, could unravel whatever thread of forces were tickling his power, the influences changed. Yet even within the misdirection, a hole emerged, a space where the vectors seemed not to be connected to.

It was there he slowly wove his ways towards, having to be more thorough than he was used too. But still, without distraction, he pressed ahead, cane tap-tapping its staccato beat as the few youths still around fled just as soon as they recognized his ice-white hair.

!~~~~~~~~~!

8:52 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 7, in an open school yard

"Are they kidding!? A last minute change now!?"

No matter how many times Hamazura Shiage [5] despondently refreshed the built-in monitor on the arm of his updated Power Lifter, the plans stubbornly refused to change back to their old arrangement. The huge array of supplies that had been carefully planned for the evening's entertainment had been divided into grids, but the section he was responsible for had the most alterations. All of which meant more work for the poor level 0.

"Great. Just great." He sighed into the night, since he knew no one could hear. "Now I'll have to go and move half the firework I already set up, and I'll be late if I don't work impossibly fast, and if I make a mistake they won't blame the late changes, oh no..."

As he muttered to himself he grasped the controls of his Power Lifter, bright yellow painting standing out in the snowy fields. The box of ammunition he had just set down into the temporary fireworks launchers had to be picked up again, this specific set of colours and pre-programmed colours now destined for another launcher several blocks away. He cued the machine's stubby legs and off he went.

"No, it'll be the temp workers fault, and then it'll come out of my pay and I'll never get another job with the City... "

He took another look at the impressive array of plans, nearly a full map of the city, in the hopes that the new locations for the fireworks were all in his mind. But most had indeed most, some even shifting much further, away from the more centralized grouping. On the machines internal instant messaging software, Hamazura watched other works grumble their complaints, but knew adding his to the chorus would be fruitless.

"Sure, you full-time employee with benefits, you get to rant and rave, but I just have to suck it up and pray for an untouched pay-cheque!" His own angst reached the heavens, but still no one was there to answer his prayer, not even provide a pat of sympathy.

So he slumped back into the backpack that raised him. "Damn it, and here I thought my luck was really turning around."

He stayed like that for only a second.

"...Bah, enough of this self pity! Yeah, all right, if I hurry I can still make my date with Rikou! That's all the motivation I need! Let's goooooo!"

Ignoring all safety precautions Hamazura set his Power Lifter into a jog, heedless of the volatile explosives held in its long arms. And as he trundled along, he looked up at the night sky, allowing himself a brief bit of comfort.

"And at least it's a quiet evening."

!~~~~~~~~~!

8:56 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 21, the slopes of an unnamed mountain.

The roar of the helicopter's rotors soon eclipsed Uiharu's hurriedly shouted goodbye. Once she had an electromagnetic handle on the controls Mikoto turned around to wave, but the judgment agent was gone, already leaving to help the others. So the level 5 turned back as well.

Behind her the bodies still lay on their stretchers, which had conveniently be framed with thin metal tubes for easy Electromaster transport. Now they rested together in the passenger compartment of craft, securely buckled down to the well-designed emergency care seating Anti-Skill was prepared to handle.

For a second, a quip about how they weren't the intended passengers crossed Mikoto's mind, but the nagging sense of urgency turned her back to her phone. Since she only needed half her attention to guide their path she could quickly make out the next marker on the near edge of District 9.

 _Okay. Just one quick stop off at a hospital for these folks, then it's on, whoever you are._ The blinking light was slowly moving, but a moving target was little threat. _I will get to the bottom of this. Hold on, Index._

A few seconds later she realized that the helicopter wasn't going to go any faster.

"Come on. Can't this go any faster?" But the steady winds rising up the mountain slowed her pace. "I could go into overdrive, but that's pretty irresponsible to the wounded... Argh, why did I argue to bring them down, I could be halfway there already if I just turned this thing into a rocket!"

She peered back at the wounded.

 _Yep. Still wounded._

She analyzed the blinking light.

 _Still blinking._

She drummed her fingers on the armrest.

 _Mmmmm._

She was alone with her thoughts once again.

Which could only lead her to one, inevitable place. She fought back as long as she could, trying to will herself into a righteous anger over the unfairness of it all, but then stopped.

It was starting to hurt again.

The acknowledgement deflated her, quite literally as she slumped in the seat. She sniffed, rubbing her nose with a mitten wet with snow. Blinking, she looked up, watching the clearing cloud drift to reveal the starry sky.

 _Of course he loves her._

It was just possible to think that, kept vague.

 _I know basically nothing about her, or even him, really, but they have lived together, what, how long? I can't even imagine what they share. What stories, what memories. Must make anyone else's connections seem... superfluous. Kinda unneeded, I guess._

In fact, thinking about it this way made it seem like a bad TV soap opera.

 _It's not something for a supporting character to get worked up about. Heck, it's not as if it's a a contest, it's more like a script. Considering it as possible at all is just a good way to get your hopes dashed; who really expects that the mysterious twin with all the money who comes in season three can beat out the one who was first smiled at?_

Or a poorly written visual novel, easy to discard.

 _It's actually more unfair for them, for who they are. I mean, the supporting cast may pretend to be invested in the on-screen stuff, but they know the score. It's not like they think an actor actually loves them, no matter how well the confession scene is shot. They don't fling themselves at the director, begging their character be the one to have the happy ending..._

A small course correction was needed, and easily given. The helicopter dipped.

 _Especially not if they are, their character is, the one who tells the main 'oh, be yourself, fight for what you really want even if it may hurt others!' Because that would make the denouement of all this practically their fault especially since it turns out what he really wants isn't..._

Another sniff. Her mitten grew no more dry.

 _Characters like that know better. They don't force what others don't want._

The stars hung in the sky, distant and isolated.

 _And that's me._

!~~~~~~~~!

Indeterminate time, December 31st: Airspace over the Sea of Japan

"Come on... Come on, there has to be something somewhere..." Touma's head bobbed up and down as he scrounged through the medical pack he had tossed to the floor. "If a first aid kit is going to be up here with the pilots, then it has to have... Ah, yes!'

Between to finger, he held up the small vial he was looking for. Clambering to his feet he dashed the short way to Tsuchimikado, carelessly ripping the lid off. It tumbled to the ground, ignored as he knelt down and steadied the boy's head by the chin.

"Here, come on, come on." He wafted the vial back and forth with ever increasing haste, eventually shaking it violently. "Wake up, you *******, wake up..."

Finally he had to admit defeated, tossing the entire vial to the floor. "Even smelling salts aren't strong enough!? What have I done!?" Though tempted to ram what remained up the unconscious boy's nose, Touma got unsteadily to his feet, lightheaded from the the ammonia.

He began to pace, beating his forehead with a palm. "Think, think harder Touma... What can I use to..." The thought of the cart's broken wiring stuck in his mind. "Ah, I could sh-"

A familiar face appeared instead.

His stomach churned and he banished the intruding plan. "Never mind." _Not like I know what I'm doing with electricity anyway..._ _I'm sure I'd get a lecture._

Yet pacing back and forth did not solve his problem either, though when his foot occasionally brushed Tsuchimikado it elicited a weak groan. And every time, Touma would look down with frustrated guilt.

"If smelling salts won't work," He shouted to the world at large, "What else on this plane could I use to wake someone!?"

"I am already awake, Imagine Breaker."

"Hmmm!?" But a quick glance to Tsuchimikado revealed no change. It was only on the second take that he truly noticed the girl in the cat costume standing pertly beside the fallen spy's leg. "Othi-chan?"

"Could it possibly not be I?" While Touma considered the point, the shrunken God of Magic abruptly evaluated with a bored gaze the situation as it had unfolded. "Oh. You won your little squabble? I had a nap. I saw no reason to interfere."

Touma's eyes quickly narrowed. "Sure you didn't help while I was under attack, you lazy Magic God."

Her counter was just as fast. "Or perhaps I had faith in my Understander, you ungrateful slob."

They stared at each other, frowning on the surface, grinning inside.

But before he could ask for advice he so sorely needed, he noticed a red flag in the situation. Had he thought it through, he might have been clever enough to not mention it at all. Yet this was never Touma's way.

"Othi-chan…"

As if sensing what would come, Othinus tensed, fur seeming to bristle "…Yes."

Her flat response should have been enough of a clue, but Touma felt he was too deep now to retreat. _This may be a bad idea, but it'll be worse if I end up avoiding this until later when someone else brings it up._ So he cleared his throat, stripping it clear of all judgment as best he could. "...Why are you still dressed up like that?"

The Magic God in the cat costume met his gaze levelly. The outburst did not come. "...I did not bring a change of clothes."

"What? What about-"

"We left my purchases in England, to be delivered here to Academy City. And nothing had fit underneath this appalling outfit when first I was coerced into donning it. Therefore..." She shrugged, maintaining a God's pride, though Othinus did look away.

"Oh. Oh!" The picture suddenly illustrated itself to the boy, and he blushed deeply, masking the moment with a chuckle. "…Guess it's better being a cat than a tiny naked-"

Tiny claws found their way to his throat, and though fake they were just the right length to seek out vulnerable flesh. He stumbled back and fell on his rear beside the unconscious spy, trying to keep his own reflexes from causing harm to anyone involved. All the while Othinus continued her assault, moving from a failed bite to a series of wild flailing punches.

"Pervert! PERVERT! Stupid human, do not think of me like that!"

"I wasn't I wasn't really I wasn't-"

Tsuchimikado stirred.

"Wait!" Touma shouted, trying to stifle the girl's impotent rage while he checked on his friend. "I think he moved! Is he waking up?"

"I don't care about you or your perverted friend! Just burn in a million billion Hells for your dirty mind!"

The tiny hammer blows tapped onto his chest, but now Touma was thoroughly distracted. "No, I'm sure he moved! But..." The beginnings of a plan clicked into place. "Wait. It's not just anyone. This is Tsuchimikado. And the only thing we could ever use to wake him when he fell asleep in Komoe-sensei's class is..."

He snuck a surreptitious glance to Othinus.

Though her chest was heaving from exertion, she fixed him with a stare as cold as space and hot as a nova.

"Do NOT look at your God that way."

"I wasn't I swear!" But even as he tried to mollify the girl, his mind was whirling. _So if that's what it will take..._ Touma thought hard, but it quickly seemed like his solution was short-lived. "No... They wouldn't, no one would possibly think to bring..."

He was standing now, striding back and forth again.

"But if they did... They'd hide it, in their luggage probably. Maybe their carry-on, if they were desperate, and didn't mind looks from airport security."

"What on Earth are you prattling about?"

"...But what if someone knocked on the door while... They'd just take it with them, hide it under their clothes. So no go there..."

"And why haven't you apologize for your offenses yet?"

"Oh, but it doesn't have to be a passenger, right? Maybe a person who worked on the plane... Who would be on board enough to use it, but still have time..." A light turned on. "Ah! The Co-pilot!"

"What about this Co-pilot? Imagine Breaker, answer me!"

"They would have a better shot than a passenger would, especially from being bothered by a stewardess or something. So if they wanted to hide it, on a flight they often took, where no one would look or clean..."

"You are hopeless."

But Othinus' withering glare meant nothing to the boy this time, as he raced off into the cockpit. There he found all the usual accoutrements one would expect on a plane, even one was advanced as this; flight controls, radio equipment, the cushioned pilot seats, even spaces for personal belongings. Yet nowhere was his prize held.

"I'm not thinking this through carefully enough..." Touma stood between the seats, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I haven't had to think this way for a while, seeing as how impossible it'd be for me, but if I were him, where would..." He let his instincts search the room, looking for those subtle hints only a growing boy would see. Eventually his eyes rested again on the seats, already padded but supported by a secondary pillow. _...There!_ "The cushion! They never clean these things I bet! And that means-"

Sure enough, the zipper slid open far more easily than it should have. And inside, Touma slid out his prize.

"Yes!" He raised his arms in triumph, half expecting them to be bathed in radiant glory.

Instead Othinus scrambled up he sleeve, trying to get a glimpse. "...Would that be a magazine?"

"Not just ANY magazine. The cure." His grin faded somewhat as he read closer. "...It's only a swimsuit edition, but I guess it's this or nothing."

As he dashed back to the fall boy Othinus clung tightly, still trying to read and understand. "Swimsuit? But that is a magazine... Is it a purchasing catalogue?"

She was ignored as Touma skidded to a halt on his knees, pried open Tsuchimikado's eyes with one hand, and held up the magazine with the other.

"Here! Feast your senses on this, you troublesome pervert of a spy!"

Several seconds passed.

Again, Tsuchimikado shifted, mumbled. But it was hard for Touma to keep his eye opens, hold the magazine, and keep Othinus from seeing.

He finally failed at the last task when she fell from his arm to climb the unconscious boy's shoulder. "What could it possibly be that you hope to - OH MYSELF!?" For once, Othinus was more shocked by Touma's behaviour than appalled, and she averted her eyes as fast as possible. "Why are you waving around that smut!? And why are they so big!?"

"This is life-saving material Othi-chan! It has never served a nobler cause! Now hold open his eyes, I have to change pages!"

Much like a paramedic could rouse frozen pedestrians to save a life at the scene of a crash, Touma's focused intensity made the Magic God obey. So she climbed atop Tsuchimikado's head, grasped an eyelid in each little hand, and closed her own eyes as she braced herself against the buffeting wind of Touma's page-flipping assault.

"Here's the list of contents no scratch that there the first page and the second and the third and advertisements-"

"...Ugh..."

"-candid shots and the comparison chart of body sizes and-"

"...Erg..."

"-and the feature interview of a famous actress and now," Touma paused, readying his trump card as he raised his voice, "THE CENTREFOLD-"

"...Ny-ahhhhhh!?"

Tsuchimikado sat bolt upright, flinging Othinus into the wall behind Touma's head as he ducked, but once a quick glance confirmed she was alive and cursing he turned back to his patient, tearfully relieved.

"Oh man, are you all right? Take it easy, don't sit up..." He babied the awoken boy like an trauma victim, cradling his head .

Tsuchimikado's voice was weak, eyes caught on some distant star. "...Beautiful... I want to go back..."

"Stay with us! Go to- No, avoid the light! Avoid it!" Worry spread across Touma's face.

"I saw heaven... And angels, choirs of singing angels... And..." A stupid grin spread across the spy's face. "They had these freakin' HUGE-"

Touma dropped him to the floor.

"Ow, nyah, what was that for-"

"You're fine."

Stretching the tension out of his muscles, Touma realized that the small-ish muttering he heard behind him had stopped. "Oh, Othi-chan. Are you okay?"

"Do not concern yourself with me. I am just equally annoyed at your idea and the fact it worked."

"Good, you're fine too." For the first time on the flight, Touma allowed himself to relax as normality settled in.

The spy straightened, glancing at his watch. "Ah, I nearly slept through our arrival. We're just over Japan now. We have to get our parachutes now if we're going to exit over the City, nyah..."

"Good, I am glad we are back to what is important. Imagine Breaker, I have to explain to you all the troublesome Magical signs I have been receiving."

 _Well, as normal as it gets anyway._ "Good. Great. Parachuting?"

"Yup. Follow me."

Touma meekly did as he was bidden, and soon all three were at a long line of lockers against the plane's tail. Three were open and empty, but a fourth and fifth joined them as the spy finished pulling them open.

He tossed one to Touma, grinning as the boy fumbled to catch it. "I guess you won, nyah? I must have tripped and hit my head or something."

 _Why are those ones empty...?_ "Sure. Look, are you done trying to restrain me?"

"...Yeah, a deal's a deal." As if sensing Touma's distraction, he continued right away. "Though I didn't quite get what I was aiming for, I shouldn't be surprised considering it's you I'm dealing with."

"Actually, I think I get what you were saying." Both continued to strap in as Touma continued, though the boy paid special attention to his buckles. "You're right. We're friends, not enemies. Even if you're a spy, even if we find ourselves with different opinions, or even on the other side, you're my friend, you god-damn pain the *** idiot. And with you or others, I can't let labels and opinions get in the way when it comes down to doing the right thing. So it's stupid to put my impressions of people when I haven't let them act for themselves and find their own answers. Right?"

Tsuchimikado stared at him for a moment, then shook his head with a grin. "...You're right. We are friends." But once his parachute was firmly on the spy shrugged. "I wasn't expecting you to use that lesson on _ME,_ let alone in reverse **,** but still. You got me. I've no right to lecture you now."

"Reverse?"

Tsuchimikado ignored the question and walked to a side hatch, all spy again as he manipulated the panel to the outside world.

"We'll be coming in over the city low, so programmed the jet to slow as much as I could, but it'll still be pretty fast. So we have to jump out and land together before coming up with a battle-plan, nyah?"

"Yeah, okay." _Wait, you don't think... But there are three-_

"Thought you'd put up more of a fuss, parachuting out of a plane."

 _...Eh?_ "Oh, yeah, I guess." Touma glanced back at the rows of parachutes lockers.

"Hey." A firm hand on his shoulder and a rush of wind brought him back to reality. Tsuchimikado's face was close enough to see his eyes through the glasses. "You have to follow what you want too, if everyone else has to. Got it?"

Touma did not hesitate at all.

"Yeah."

Except in his heart.

 _Except that one thing._

If the spy noticed it he gave no sign. For he had become a rapidly shrinking dot of blackness silhouetted over the City's lights below.

"You heard the double agent, we have to leave quickly!" Othinus' voice chimed from within his hood, bunkered down and holding the drawstring tight.

"Right," Touma said, gritting his teeth as he fell out into the sky. "Let's g-"

His forward momentum stalled.

The wind whipped him against the side of the plane hard enough to knock his breath away. From within his hood a tiny voice shouted worry.

"Touma!? This is no time for fear, just jump already!"

"I-I'm not afraid!" _I mean I am but-_ Touma glanced back to the hatch; saw how it had closed upon a trailing strap. "I-I'm caught!"

"...Hold on!" With cat-like dexterity Othinus was leaning from his hood, furiously gnawing through the line.

 _That can't be good for her t-_

The line snapped.

His cry of surprise was drowned by the biting air, but lucky reflexes gave him just enough time to catch her and cradle the Magic God in his arms.

And so a Certain unfortunate boy screamed bloody murder as he plummeted downwards, ever downwards, back towards his home and the girl he came to find.

!~~~~~~~~!

8:59 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 7, an otherwise unoccupied school room

Though outside the night was still well lit by the glow of Academy City, inside the school only a glow could be seen. It crept through half-shuttered windows into the many empty, and one not quite so empty, classrooms. Though attended by psychic students and maned by specialist teachers, on the surface it seemed much like any classroom anywhere.

Yet still the woman, face shrouded in shadows, looked around with unease. She spent one moment trailing her hands along a chalkboard, where dim outlines of a previous lesson could still be seen. The rows and rows and rows of ordered desks implied an alien closeness and community that she could not quite fathom.

One hand clenched, but the moment passed.

In the corner of the room, propped up against the walls, lay a bundled and bound little girl, her long silver falling over her sleeping face. If the sheer volume of ties and bindings seemed excessive alone to the casual passerby, the inscribed runes upon them and her gag would have been utterly bizarre. Whether or not they were necessary, the girl slept.

The woman's face turned away from the girl. She knelt down, where weak beams of light drew great slashes on the floor, and stretched out her open palm.

A simple magic circle spread out lazily from her fingers. It took several long moments before it resolved, and with it formed its edges pushing back nearby desks a few inches. They scraped and groaned, but though the girl in the shifted she did not wake. Oblivious to the small commotion the woman analyzed the runes swirling before her.

It was clearly nothing special, as far as Magic goes. It did not pulse wildly, or twist the mind, or even fill the air with power. Yet it was not quite the same as what the others had performed. At twelve equal points along its circumference, an ethereal candle flickered. All but three were lit, burning with blackness, more like fluttering ink than fire. The woman watched the three-quarters filled circle, the bottom half of her pale face showing a mild frown as the streetlights split the room.

The tenth candle lit, flaring up with darkness before dying down to burn low like the rest.

The woman did not smile, but her face relaxed. She stood up, pulling herself from the light as the Magic circle sputtered and died.

Knowing it was her turn to take the stage, she strode quietly to the little girl in the corner. A minute later she finished the simple ritual, and then the woman was gone, vanished into the darkness. All that remained were the disturbed seats, the quiet classroom, and the sleeping Index.

!~~~~~~~~!

[1] I've always wanted to explore more powerful versions of Esper abilities already shown. I figured Hydro Hand becomes a lot more potent which taken to the limits of physics. Pulling moisture from the air, controlling large volumes; the only thing I don't allow is blood-bending, because I demand at least initial line of sight to make it happen. Of course, if you happened to start bleeding, then all best would be off. Either way, this power also suits the character well, though you will see more about that in Interlude 3, I think.

[2] Did I tell you all I like puns?

[3] A call-back to that moment in season 2, when Saten read the manual and figured out how to pilot a mech suit. Which, of course, was bull**** and we all know it. Hilarious bull****, but still. And then being basically in space somehow not dying, and the whole Febrie thing was half-baked and-

I better not get started… We could be here a while. Still, got to give all the girls there moments of glory.

[4] What, you didn't think this plot was going to get any simpler, did you?

[5] See above.

[6] I've gotten back into the romance side of things a bit more this chapter, so those looking for progress on that front hopefully are relieved. Remember, all this adventure is a framing device, a justification for change in character and setting. I'm out of practice, but I hope I can still do the developments for both aspects justice. Either way, thanks for sticking with me.

[7] I realize now I haven't been consistent with the capitalization of Esper powers, doing so with titles like Accelerator but not Vector Control. I think I'll go back and double check all this, but for now Electromaster and Teleporter are going to be capitalized.


	65. Part 3: Optional Side Stories 2

**Bonus update time again. If you are seeing this but didn't read chapter 8, update may hide it.**

 **If it's been so long that you've forgotten (sorry bout that by the way) I had always intended to release an interlude after every four chapters. However, unlike the last two parts, I've also intended these one, in part three, to be optional. Extra backstories that, while shedding light on some character and possibly showing glimpses into the future, are not needed to under the fullness of my tale. I had to include them, to satisfy my own** **moribund determination to do this justice, so here they are.**

 **If you're reading these thanks for sticking with me. They are not more Index, which is obviously sad, but may help fill some of that itch you have while the next real chapter coalesces. Without further ado, please enjoy.**

 **Interlude 2:**

 **The Fourth Summon:**

 **Subject:** Songbird. Unknown; (Hypothesis: Ancient city of Cahokia, modern day Missouri.)

 **Temporality:** Unknown; (Hypothesis: Pre-Contact North America, likely 1400 CE.)

 **Capabilities:** Gemstone/Magician Hybrid.

 **Gemstone Ability:** Of the initial summons utilized in England, 'Songbird' is one of the lesser known. No Necessarius records exist of any magician by this name; it is doubtful any other continuing cabal would know of her either. Judging by the details provided by the Miss Baker's Journal entries, we conclude her Gemstone power has to do with putting others to sleep. It seems to be related to gas, generated by her singing. By some mechanism it can induce unconsciousness in her victims. We label it level 3, "Lullaby Lull".

 **Magical Skills:** Video data taken from the jewel facility show a certain skill in animist symbolism, ranging from partial to complete avian transformations accompanied by magical attacks. It is unknown if she possess other magic powers, but given her place in this already deadly team it is assumed she is a greater threat than first appears.

 **Conclusion:** By her skin colour, facial features, and seeming unfamiliarity with western Civilization, Songbird is from North America. From eyewitness accounts, Songbird appears to have a complete distaste for modern technology, alongside the very concepts of cities and urban centres. This has been is further illustrated by her part in what the code-breaking department assumes is the fall of Cahokia; see **Entry 12**. For those unfamiliar with Pre-Contact American Mid-West archaeology, Cahokia is the modern name given to a large urbanized settlement that developed along the Mississippi River. Though its sudden collapse has long puzzled historians, this department assumes it will have to remain a mystery to the broader world. As far as combat go, any sound specialist Magicians should be called in for active duty: otherwise, overwhelming force is suggested.

 **Entry 10: Canticle** [1]

Date: March 4th

 _On the day she discovered her powers, she knew she could be a comfort._

The dream begins on a dusty plain, ringed with thick trees. A river runs through it, winding lazily down, barely flowing at all. The wind is light, cooling the setting summer sun as its last rays beat down on a young girl on the river's edge, sitting atop an outcrop of stone.

She is petite, enough so that I cannot quite gauge her age, and dressed in a thin simple leather shift. She might be younger, or perhaps my peer; either way, she holds a baby. Considering it does not share her distinctive nose I doubt it is hers. Regardless she holds it, cooing gently as her feet dangle in the cool water, sprinkling some upon the child's brow.

The babe seems to be colic, or at the very least upset; her arms rock it mechanically, and her face is weary. Abruptly she moans, before speaking in chiding tone.

"Now, my cousin. Are you truly not going to rest all day? None of the treatments have helped, so what bothers you?" She shakes her head. "You didn't want your mother's milk or a strip of leather to teeth on… What can I do?"

Her legs splashing idly in the water, and for a moment the child's wailing is lost in the commotion. As the water churns, the girl sits and thinks.

"Well. I have one last trick to try."

She straightens, ignored by the baby, and takes a breath.

Song pours from her lips, soft and sweets, lightly lilting. It is a simple, wordless song, more humming than anything else. I feel something change in the air. My vision in the dream blurs, goes sepia tone, colour leaching out. Though she does not know it, I am certain; she is doing magic with Magic. How innocently, compared to mine. How quaint an ability.

We both soon witness the effects. In seconds, the baby quiets, gurgling until it falls into deep sleep.

The girl stops. The world returns to normal.

"Hmmm. What a wonderful audience." She looks upon the child with a mix of rueful annoyance and grateful sympathy. "Again, though? Why does everyone… Get so drowsy when I sing, I wonder?"

She purses her lips, then smiles.

"I suppose it's not such a bad thing after all." The girl leans over, kissing her charge lightly on the head, as she stands. "If my song gives you rest, then it is good."

I watch her step across the plain, away from the river edge. She steps into the trees, treading carefully over branches and bramble with hardly a glance. In short time, I follow her to a small encampment, resting in a small natural clearing, filled with a half dozen round lodges. Their stout wooden frames were topped with cooling earth, but despite the heat most of her community toiled outside, engaged in various useful activities. [2]

One woman stops her flaying of a carcass long enough to notice the girl, elbowing her matronly companion. "Ah! Your Songbird is back, with my sleeping boy. You have worked your charm again, I see." She reaches up with both arms to take her child, expertly slinging him across her chest in a cozy length of cloth.

Songbird, as I know her now, nods smoothly. "Song soothes the savage beast, ma'am."

"Some songs more than others, is that not so?"

"G-gh…"

"Do not tease my daughter, you old witch." Songbird's mother playfully shoves the other woman back, laughing. "She is self-conscious enough, after her attempts to woo the boy ended in in his snores."

"M-Mother!"

They share a laugh at the girl's expense. "Relax, child, we merely ruffle your feathers. Come, join us, there is plenty of work to go around."

Sullenly the girl sits down, taking the offered stone knife to scrape it along a length of hide.

The sun begins to set upon their efforts, when there is a sudden commotion on the end of the camp. Hardly mollified from her earlier humiliation, at first Songbird does not follow the gaze of her companions, but eventually as they stand and rush over curiosity wins out. She stands, and the knife nearly falls from her grasp when she sees the disruption.

I see it now too, a boy, staggering into the support of his extended family. He arms cradled a deep gash along his belly, and he can hardly speak for the pain. Songbird presses through the small crowd to his side, crying wordless anguish in sympathy, and drops her knife to take his hand. He reaches out, despite his suffering.

"Let me through." Impressively competent, Songbird's mother clears the crowds, setting to work with a cleaning bowl of water and compress ready for application. "Tell me, young man, what happened?

"We… Were hunting. Ambushed, by a large group. So many, many dozens, we fought but they were endless… I barely escaped came-AGH!"

"Hush, it's alright. That's enough." The girl's mother pressed her salve tightly to the wound, gently rubbing his brow as she turns to her daughter. "Songbird, can you grant him rest?"

"M-me? But I…" Her expression wavers until she understands. "Oh!

Songbird closes her eyes, and with a deep breath, begins to sing.

The girl sings her heart out, still low and soft, like before, gently, with soothing lightness, high notes hummed across the camp. I feel the dreamscape shimmer again like before, grow colourless, and all but Songbird fall drowsy. Eventually the boy closest to her closes his eyes, drifting off into slumber.

Songbird stops. And looks around, growing anxious when those around her do not react. She elbows her mother, the second time forcefully, jarring her alert. "This is not the time for you to sleep, mother!"

"Yes, Songbird, yes, you are right." Blinking, the woman shakes her head, picking up her first aid from where she paused. "I could not help it, but… You should go now, let me work. Go with the others, get ready, we have to run."

"I don't want to leave his… W-wait." Half standing, the girl pauses. "Mother? Run?"

"Yes! They could still-"

A loud low note resounds along the countryside, sending birds from the trees. All present freeze. It can tell it is a horn being blown, somewhere to the east.

Another responds, this time to the north. More still, closing around from all sides.

The camp is filled with moaning and wailing, and soon inward rushing feet; an attack is launched.

The scene is confused, too chaotic and blood-filled to understand. The few men left, old and young, who would fight are cut down, stabbed by spear and arrow and left to die. I see women and children bound, dragged screaming as the raiding partners shouts out their battle cries.

By her home's edge, still holding the sleeping boy's hand, Songbird's shock is broken when a man approaches. He shouts back to others before striding closer, purpose clear.

The girl can only watch, flinching slightly, one hand trailing by her side. It brushes against the knife.

Without thought it is in her hand, and she hurls it. By luck, it sticks deep in his unprotected belly. The invader looks confused a moment, before keeling over, blood trickling from his lips.

The spell broken, Songbird scrambles into action. She takes the wounded boy over her shoulder, her tiny frame shaking under the burden, and runs.

Others slip past her, remnants of her community escaping into the plains. A few are chased, but no one pays her any attention, so slow does she travel. She gets no further than a thin copse of bushes just outside their camp. Trembling, she lays him down inside, covers him, hiding him before stumbling out, straight into several men.

Something clubs her behind the head; the world goes dark.

For a moment, I think the dream has mercifully ended. But then there is light again.

And noise. An incredible, oppressive wall of noise. That is the only impression I can gather as Songbird struggles back awake.

She pushes off the cold, hard- packed dirt, thinly scattered with long sharp blades of yellowing grass. Her confused eyes take in her fellow captives; some family, some not, all trapped together in a large cage of thick wooden stakes. A few strange men guard their prison, one of many dozens, in a chaotic camp. Standing slowly, I can see with Songbird the full extent of their new surroundings.

In all directions are buildings, hundreds of simple but sturdy wooden shelters. They seem similar in style if larger than the ones she used to call home, but still Songbird registers only shock. I wonder if it is their sheer number that overwhelms her; that, alongside the thousands of bustling citizens, rushing about in every direction. Towering over their frenzy, despite its squat nature, was a huge pyramid-like mound of Earth, at least ten stories tall and lined with terraces and dirt packed ramps. It has two levels, and though the top is quiet the lower bustled with activity, various figures shouting down directions to those below in a way that seems to only add to the confusion.

Songbird stands shaking; she seems lost in fear and dread. She does not notice the woman approaching behind her, teary eyed.

"My daughter, oh thank you, my daughter!" Strong arms wrap around the girl's neck, and she blearily turns to the woman hanging off her. "You are alive, you are alive!"

"M-mother…? What happened?"

"We have been taken, my Songbird, but be strong. We will survive. They told us that we were being brought into the family, that we have no choice but must work for their Gods. Will can live if we work, and earn our freedom. Do not despair, my child, it's all right."

"Yes… S-survive." I can only imagine where her thoughts are now, but slowly the girl begins to understand. Before they can share their tearful sorrow, though, there is a sudden cry. Across the cage, huddled in a corner, is an unfamiliar woman. She is old, and suffering from an invisible pain.

Her mother looks upon her only for a second. "That one is not long for the slave's life. But do not fear, daughter, we are strong, we can survive and-?" Songbird has shrugged from her mother's grasp, much to the woman's confusion. "But she is not from our tribe." Her disbelief turns to frustration. "What time is this for the suffering of others!?"

"Still. I want to give her rest." Face firmly set, as if she finds refuge in this kindly act, she begins to sing.

The world greys. The listeners begin to lose the light in the eyes. The elderly woman stiffens, one last gasp of pain, before her eyes begin to close.

"What is that song?"

Songbird's voice falters, and the woman begins to wake. But she continues, forging ahead.

"Where? Where is… I feel…"

Finally the suffering woman falls asleep, just as the suddenly drowsy guards are pushed aside by a large newcomer. At first they snap alert with snarls, but quickly silence themselves, growing pale.

The dream is focused upon Songbird, but eventually she turns up her face.

We see a man. He is fat, enormously so, and well into middle age. A thick robe of fine cloth dangles from his neck, along with countless pieces of bright jewellery, bits of hammer gold and silver on string. He practically reeks of opulence and wealth, despite the simplistic style; I can only assume he is some kind of leader.

"What has happened here?" He eyes the captives with bloodshot eyes, but does not seem angry. "What caused that sensation? Who is responsible?"

"Great chief, I-"

When a guard begins to speak up, he is silenced again with the wave of one large hand. "Quiet. You are only useful as proof. Now, slaves." Songbird jerks at the word; other whimper. "Which one of you was singing?"

A few fingers point in rank betrayal; the man's eyes fall upon the girl, and she is frozen. But there is no fierce anger in his eyes.

"I have not slept easy in many, many nights. An old illness that will not relent. But for the first time since I can remember, I felt as if I could rest. I do not know why, but the closer I came to you as you sang, the more I felt it… Sing again; I wish to see."

Songbird swallows; looks to her mother. At her anxious nodding, the girl looks down, and reluctantly obeys.

At first, her voice is hesitant. But it grows more certain, more assured as a plan begins to form. She sings, loud and clear.

The large man stands, and his bloodshot eyes close. A slow smile spreads across his face. Unsure of themselves, the guards share a look, and then a stretch, rubbing their own eyes in turn. Eventually the both take a seat on the ground, leaning against each other.

The other slaves grow drowsy too; passers-by begin to yawn, mildly searching about for the cause before they carry on their way. None notice the girl as she thread between the slumbering forms of her mother and other slaves. She makes her way to the gate of her pen, singing still as she reaches for its simple unguarded latch.

But she hesitates, looking back mid song. Eventually I realize she is torn between wanting to flee and trying to save her family; as I do she takes her hand from the latch, left hitched, and ends her song.

The fat man is first to snort awake, blinking in confusion. He managed to remain standing throughout the experience, and his eyes have gained a youthful vigour.

"What… Is your name, girl?"

"…Songbird."

"You have such skill. I must have you for my household. You will sing for me, sweet Songbird, and grant me a restful sleep each night!" he waddles to turn, slapping the nearest guard awake. "Fetch your master! Go, now, I wish to claim one of them before they go to the priests."

"H-have me…?" The girl murmurs to herself, quickly growing frightened and looking for support. But her mother and family and all the other captives are still lost in the grip of her power, fighting the sleep. She is alone. "I… My family, my-"

"They do not sing, so they will become the foundation of Cahokia." The fat man stands impatiently, back to her as he watches a thin looking man lead by the guard who left. "I do not care what happens between now and their integration."

Songbird stares at his back, forced to listen as her price is named. The details escape me, and likely her as well; all I can see is the panic rapidly spreading across her features. Her lips work, but nothing escapes.

"Good. A deal." Matter-of-factly, the business is concluded. "Deliver her this evening, and I will ensure you will have your permission to build your new home." The fat man turns to walk away, soon to disappear into the crowd.

"W-wait!"

The girl's voice rings out again, and he pauses. Slowly he returns to the pen, where the slaves have finally awoken, checking each other in their confusion. But he only has eyes for one. "Why should I?"

"…I will never be able to sing, like this, i-if I know my family is in danger." Terrified at her own impudence, the girl fights to meet his eyes. But soon her voice grows bold. "My song, it would be silent forever. I swear, if they are hurt, I swear!"

He stares at her narrowly; the threat does not sit well. "A girl can be made to sing. Perhaps with motivation."

"H-how many birds have you seen sing sweetly, when they are threatened with an a-arrow?" Her words come out haltingly, but there is strength behind them.

They stare a while longer. Abruptly the fat man laughs, but only once. He eventually nods.

"…True. Very well. We will strike a deal, crafty Songbird." He nods back at the guard, who runs off again to find his master. "I will not take responsibility for them all, but I can ensure they remain in the general population as labourers. They will be safer there, better fed and longer lived than if moved to a cruel master to tend to his home. And when you have earned your freedom, you might purchase their freedom in turn. [3] Can you sing for me, under such conditions?"

"…May I visit them each day?"

"Fine. You will serve in my household, but otherwise you will be granted leave with armed guard to see them. All I care about is your voice; that is all you are worth." He leans in, and she balks at his closeness. "Do not disappoint me, Songbird. Or I may find my need to sate my anger on your family greater than my desire to rest. Be warned; should something happen to me, they will suffer."

He quickly is gone; Songbird is left standing, alone until her mother finally draws to her side, rubbing sleep and tears from her eyes.

"What has happened? I slept again, and now awake to find-"

The girl comforts her mother, and for a moment I cannot make out the words. Eventually the day grows long, and the sun begins to set; the bustle outside slows, and their guards change shift. The thin man from before comes to the pen, disturbing the dreary captives with his high shouting.

Songbird stands, and walks towards him, only to be stopped by her mother.

"Why? Why must you do this, my daughter!? I cannot, I-"

"Hush, now, mother. It will be all right." Songbird reaches out and trails her hand down her mother's shaking cheek; though I can feel she is no less afraid, the girl must have decided not to reveal it. She leans close, and speaks softly, just loud enough that I can hear. "I will buy us time. The others will come, just wait."

"O-others? What do you mean?" The man outside grunts impatiently, but the girl has time for one last whispered message.

"When I fled, hid his body, I saw others escape from the slavers. They will come, I am certain, and rescue us. We must be strong, Mother, and not let ourselves be brought into their twisted ways. We will escape, I swear, and return to our home."

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

Another dream, another tragedy. As grim a start as the second.

But I am beginning to see another trend.

I will confess this now; I don't want to hold it any longer in my heart. I only pray that Father reads this before anyone else. I have begun stealing books from the cabal itself. Using my magic without Magic, sending in toys to gather materials. I don't care if I have been forbidden to use it; I have already betrayed them enough, and they seem to have no way of noticing magically. They always claimed to be watching, but even as a child, when I dared in a fit of anger, no one ever came.

And oh, what I have learned.

I can only guess how they might react; merely making pariahs of our family may no longer be enough for our more vocal enemies. I actually for once fear the worst, of the men and women who were my extended family.

Still, it has been worthwhile. I strongly suspect now that these dreams are prophecy, if of a twisted kind. The stolen books note that, while most revelations deal with the future in vague ways, some refer to the past and have greater clarity. I **am** experiencing visions.

Someone who is supposed to be incapable of Magic is experiencing Magical visions.

If only I had proof! Real proof, that I have overcome my curse-

[Orsola's note: Before the word 'curse' there are several more scratched out; the only one still legible is 'deformity']

-and can show them all that our family are not traitors! But that is hopeless now. There is no way they will believe me, and If I explain it this way they will know I have been thieving. They will kill us. Or worse.

I can bring myself to write this now because I have made up my mind. There is no way I can stay here much longer. I must steal what I can, in secret, then run. Too many members are beginning to wonder at my requests for books, wonder at why I am no longer quite as quiet and demure and willing to obey silently as I was before. I can hear them complaining about my questions, long after I have stopped. They just want another reason to hate me. To hate us.

I must leave my home, and my family. I must find out what this prophecy of mine entails. I just feel it is **too important.**

For their sake.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 11: Hymn.**

Date: March 14th

The dream begins with a bustling city.

I recognize it as the same from the previous dream, though perhaps more crowded, more filled with the destitute and the hungry. It may just be different quarter, less wealthy, but the people seem just as before. The community still on the verge of complete chaos, with each person going about their own business, heedless of the lives around them in the early morning light.

All save one, a young woman who stands out for her paranoid gaze. I instantly recognize the girl from before, Songbird, though she has grown surprisingly older, a little taller, her back a little straighter even as her eyes dart about. She walks alone through the streets, carrying a large vessel of woven reeds. It was filled with various tools and goods up to the brim, but though she struggled under the weight the woman made no noise of complaint. She passed through the city, trying to keep as far as possible from those around her, taking wider paths and waiting when necessary to avoid contact.

She eventually passes to the outskirts of town, past the more permanent homes and buildings. Further out there are fields of simple farms, but before them a temporary camp is set up upon hard packed dirt. A few dozen tepees have been erected, and various groups of rough looking men are unpacking large packs full of fur, leather, and other bulk goods. [5] Songbird approaches them confidently, but I can tell her eyes tracks them as they begin to leer.

She approaches one in particular, a wizened individual not quite approaching old age. He looks her over once, and smiles toothily.  
"Are you sure that you've come to the right camp, girl? We're just traders, fresh off the road and ready to return to the pleasures of town." He grins back towards his men, who laugh along with him. "Not that we much complain if you need some directions…"

"It is not mistake." He instantly frowns, but soon watches with interest as Songbird lays down her burden. "I have come to complete your accord with the Great Chief. Here is the contract your chief agreed to." She reaches within the woven basket and pulls out a string of beads, tied into a thin band, holding it before the man.[4]

Though surprised, the man takes it from her, running it over with his hands and eyes. "What? Is this the agreement for the ritual? Why is such a pretty young thing running such important errands for…" He looks up.

For the first time, I notice that around her neck lies a thick, woven collar. She follows his gaze to it, but does not react aside from narrowing her eyes.

"Ah. The slave. Say no more." He shrugs, dismissing her from his mind. "Tell you master it will be as we discussed; the ritual will be completed by today, so long as the last gift you bring is sufficient and the slaves are delivered for their part. He will have his foundation."

I am as confused as Songbird, but not quite so angry. She does not reply. I can see the rage working its way through her features, but she hides it well. Instead she turns and strides away, leaving behind her basket of goods. I can see her wondering at his words; she must not be told much, despite her privileged position in the exchange.

The city looms crowded before her, and I can see her hesitation, her disgust. But the young woman brings herself to enter despite the smells, the sounds, and the sights that assault my sense as much as hers.

Whatever the cause, the sensations fade into the background as she penetrates deeper. I begin to vaguely recognize that we are back were the last dream ended, the large section of open-roofed pens reserved for holding slaves and workers of the states. I see now that some of them are engaged in work moving earth and wood nearby, and though Songbird looks over each group carefully she does not slow for any.

She quickly passes through the area, and I can see her anxiety growing. Finally she comes to a halt, and makes a beeline through the press of bodies for a larger building. It is not quite ornate, but certainly looks nicer than the others. Pushing inside, she is instantly stopped by a thin man, the same who arranged her transfer to the Great Chief.

"You again." He looks her over once, laying his hands upon her shoulder and forcing her back into the street. "I have already told you, they are preparing for the ritual, they must not be near the uninitiated."

"They have been preparing for weeks! When-!?" She chokes back her anger when she realizes she is being watched. A pair of guards turn her way, and she slowly lowers her half-raised fists."…When can I see them again?"

"Do not become so arrogant. You may be useful to the Great Chief, and have earned trust enough to wander on your own, but that is not protection enough that you can threaten me. Even if you were free, remember I am a member of the priesthood."

She is silent; it is all the apology she seems willing to give.

"Hmmph. Today is your answer." She starts, but he continues before she can react more. "At noon, the ritual will begin. Your master gave me explicit orders; you can see them then at his side, but no sooner. When they become part of the city, you can bear witness."

"Part of… We do not wish-"

"They have been convinced." He backs up, into the shadow of his building. "Theirs and your way of life is over, girl. Cahokia is the future, and the only future you will ever know; be grateful that, unlike some, you will live to see it. In fact, you should go to him now."

She is left alone, standing outside, not daring to chase him inside as I can see she greatly desires. Instead she turns around, and leaves.

Time passes; the young woman wanders back across the town, taking her time again, avoiding crowds and bustle and performances as much as possible. I grow aware that some sort of celebration is taking place, from the fits and starts of music popping up around her. Though many are smiling, Songbird's only reaction is to shrink away as she slinks towards the looming earth mound that dominates the city skyline. [6]

It is even more impressive up close, a huge man-made mound that towers over every other structure. My first guess, that it has religious significance, is supported by the decorated guards and kneeling figures on the ramp leading to its summit. But the guards let her through the throng without a second glance, and she climbs.

At the top there is another large permanent building, but this one is distinctly more impressive. A single story structure, it spreads out over several feet, decorated by brass hangs and strips of bright dyed fabrics likely brought through trade. It is an unmistakable sign of wealth, and additional symbols and designs of a spiritual natures only add to its importance.

Ignoring it all Songbird passes through the open door. Seated in the rooms centre, surrounded by bustling priests in simple dress and thin slaves is the fat man from before, her master, the Great Chief. He looks upon her and smiles broadly, clapping his hands together in great heavy slaps.

"Ah! My sweet, sweet Songbird. I heard word my business was completed; it is good you have become reliable. Now, have you come to sing to me again, hmm?"

Songbird inclines her head respectfully.

"Bah. I know I cannot nap. I must officiate. What a nuisance." He waves away his assistants, watching them scramble clear as he slowly rises. "Though I at least now have the energy to stand before them so long once again. Truly a blessing, that power you have, Songbird."

Songbird is silent. I can feel in her heart how soundly she disagrees, how much she regrets being separated from her family.

"Now, come. We go to the ritual. The priests tell me the next foundation is ready to be laid. It is not often we begin to build a new mound for our Gods; you family is lucky to be chosen."

"My…" She catches herself and returns to fierce silence, but not before he responds, wobbling past her.

"Ah, that's right! I forgot I had kept it as a surprise for you. Come, watch them become part of Cahokia. It is a very special ceremony; the priests have spent weeks preparing them."

Though disturbed now, she follows at a short distance. He leads her and a procession of attendants to the edge of mound, dropping down to the lower level. The young woman is momentarily overwhelmed by the huge press of shouting bodies below, filling the perimeter of a field, likely cleared by other slaves prepare for this occasion. I guess that this is to be the location of the new mound that was mentioned; in the very centre there is a deep rectangular hole.

The Great Chief stops at the edge of the lower lip, ringed by chanting priests. He shouts out, calling for silence. Eventually the watchers take not, and the many thousands quieten to a low rumble.

He speaks for a while in a booming voice; the platitudes he offers drone on an on, about the need to appease the Gods and the monuments that do so. Songbird refuses to listen; I instead she her staring down disdainfully at the mass of people assembled; she shrivels up her nose, as if grateful at least to be out of the stink. She only raises her gaze when the mass of people below part, and a procession is allowed through, solemnly moving towards the centre hole.

"…And now, we lay again the foundation of our great nation!" The Great Chief raises his hands high, as high as he can, and the voice below rise up with him in adoration. I notice this only for a second, before my vision is wrenched away to Songbird.

I see her whiten. My eyes follow hers down, down to the procession below. I see a group of priests, and a larger group of slaves. But her family is not among them.

The slaves are dragging something along the ground, a huge bound sheet of stretched hides. It leaves a dark trail where it slides on the grass, and the crowd that parted do not seek to fill the space. They all shout and watch as several dozen broken bodies are presented to the jeering crowd.

One by one, the other slaves set to work, tossing them into the hole. [7]

Songbird falls to her knees in noiseless horror. Eventually a low moan escapes her, and her tremulous hands reach out, trying to reach the family she has lost forever.

A blow strikes her from behind and she falls, but she is insensible to the assault, trying to stand again, to run down to her family. She is only stopped when several hands grasp her, and drag her back to her master.

She is held, petrified, shaken to her core as he bellows into her face.

"Have I not treated you well!? You would shame me so!?"

She is lost in sorrow; none of his shaking can cause her to stir.

"Ingratitude! From now on, you spend your days in the pens! You will be released only to sing for me, and then returned. And next foundation ceremony, for when we lay the next mound, you will be the first I sacrifice."

She does not care.

"Take her away."

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~~!

I am beginning to have a suspicion about these dreams. Something more ties them together than the rule of threes, or their similar ends.

Still, I feel I must do more research before I can leave the cabal. I am beginning to understand more about how prophecies work. It seems that sometimes, more is learnt through impressions than specific events. I think then that I am on the right track.

And if I am correct, I am about to experience the end of Songbird's story and with it, another encounter with that strange presence. The one that meets us, me and the one I dream, at the ends of the third dream, the end of each individual's story. I still cannot tell if it speaks, shouts, whispers to me or to them. I do not even know if it really has a voice. It is just an impression, a feeling that is forced upon me.

I have dubbed it "the First"; that is the only name I could think that fit. It just felt so old, so ancient. Desperately searching for something yet inhumanly patient almost weary yet ever hungry.

These aren't my thoughts.

They just came out as I wrote. I feel sick to my stomach. It grows hard to write. I am done

!~~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 12: Dirge**

Date: March 20th

The dream begins, and it is dark. I can hear the bustle of a city, but it is subdued. A few fires flicker in the distance, large public burns, and they provide only a weak flickering light.

At first, nothing happens. Eventually though a small commotion draws near. There is the sound of shuffling feet as a gate is unlatched, and somebody is pushed inside what looks like a staked off area.

My dream-eyes are not yet accustomed to the darkness, so I wait. Soon they adjust and I see both the room and its occupant. Songbird sits silently, legs curled up to her chest in the dusty straw-ridden slave pen. Whether it is the same or a different one, whether it has been many days since her change in status or few, I cannot tell. It does not seem to matter, so broken does she look. Despite the distant feeling my dreaming state bestows upon me, I know I feel for her. I too have lost family to senseless violence.

She seems to be alone, quiet in her sorrow. I can only assume she prefers it this way.

I am forced to watch her like this for some time. The night grows older.

"Well, well…"

The voice startles us both. It is weak, scratching, like something clawing at a grate. I realize that while Songbird kept her head down, and the dream had focused my attention on her, neither of us had seen that the pen was occupied.

Someone else is sitting in the darkness, several meters across from her. Cross-legged, stooped and wizened, there is a tiny old woman. She is looking straight through me, to the young woman she had surprised, and nods in a deliberate manner. "…You will do."

At first, Songbird is silent. Her eyes lose their wild panic when she realizes there is no threat. Eventually her head returns to her knees, and the pen is drowned in silence.

"Did you not hear me?" The old woman breaks it, like the surface of still water. Waiting in vain for a response as the ripples die, she tries again. "I said, 'you will do'."

"…For what." It is not a question. It is a declaration of futility. But still, the woman nods again.

"As a vessel for my revenge."

Songbird's head slowly shifts. "…Who are you? I am usually tossed in here alone."

"I am not surprised." The woman snorts in painful laughter, as if choking on her own bitterness. "This is a place of punishment. I know it well. But you have never been here alone."

"W-what?"

"I have been here for some time. I have been watching you."

Songbird pulls her feet in closer, in reflexive fear of the unknown.

"What, you don't believe me?"

"How? Where…?"

"My ancestors grant me wisdom. I can do many, many things that would scare you, child." She waves one arm, then flinches, wincing. "O-or would have. In my youth."

"You… Are just an old woman." I can feel Songbird fighting back her distrust of the unknown. "Nothing to fear. Not like them."

"Ah, well, you are right and wrong, girl." The old woman nods. "It is true, I am nothing to fear. But neither are our captors. Not with what I will teach you."

"T-teach?" Songbird eyes widen then narrow in turn. "What have you to possibly teach me, crone?"

"Manners, to start. Perhaps an iota of trust. But most of all, I can tell you about your power."

Songbird's feet kick out and she pushes away to the furthest corner of the room. "Quiet! Quiet you hag, I don't want to think about my curse! Quiet, or I'll put you to sleep and be done with it!"

"Curse or blessing, understanding is the key to wisdom. Learn about it, or be controlled by it." But then she smiled a toothless grin. "See how your first response was to rely on it? You should learn."

Songbird does not respond, fighting back anger and fear. Several minutes pass, and the woman speak again.

"We are not of the same people, but my ancestors tell of a world before this one. Similar, but filled with people that did not know or respect the powers of the land. The Creating Power, the one who created that world, sang several songs to punish them. One summoned rain, creating floods. One made the ground tremble and split. The people died, and he sang a song to make a new world." [8] The old woman looks up, and perhaps smiles slightly at Songbird's rapt attention. "I believe you power may be for a similar purpose."

But the young woman's face fell. "…So it is a curse." Her head disappeared between her knees as she sank further into depression. "It can save no one. Everyone I love died despite it, perhaps for it. It is a curse.

"Maybe, maybe not." The woman's words are blunt. "But it need not be a curse just for you."

Still buried in her knees, Songbird murmurs aloud. "And why should I care…"

"Let us turn you loose on our enemies."

For a long moment, there is silence. Eventually she sighs softly. "It is no weapon. All I can do is bring slumber. What good is that?"

"No one is more vulnerable than when asleep."

"Do you think I have not thought it?" The young woman passionately spits out the words, fighting to keep quiet. "When I was freer than now, every night I slipped a dagger into the Great Chief's chambers, every night I weighed his life against that of my family. Now I am guarded, but even if I regained his trust I am not brave enough to risk torture should I murder him. I am a coward, I should have tried to free them sooner, the others are never coming back for us, that was a vain hope, I'm-"

"Enough self-pity!"

The old woman's sharp condemnation brought silence, disturbed only by the sound of shuffling feet. I cannot tell in the dream whether they belonged to guards investigating the growing noise, or just random pedestrians. Whatever the case they soon pass, leaving just the two women, together alone.

"…Good." The old woman leans forward, the ends of her simple ragged shiv shuffling against the dirt and straw. "We've much work to do in private. And I've much to teach you. Come, now, and-"

"B-before I agree to anything..." Songbird was confident enough to cut the old woman off, but hesitates now to finish her point. "…I want… I need to see…"

"You want proof, that there is reason to hope again?" I am as surprised as Songbird is by the old woman's insight, yet her toothless grin betrays nothing but fervent understanding. "It will be hard, after all that strength I used to hide from you, but I suppose…"

The old woman leans back, into the deeper darkness of the pen. There is only an outlines left to see of her, hunched over, barely larger than a child.

Songbird and I wait.

I realize, with Songbird, that on the very edge of hearing, the old woman is speaking softly.

A dire wind blows through the pen. It brushes up the straw, lightly whipping fragments clear. But it last only a moment. The old woman sighs, slightly stretching, before shifting again, lashing out one arm to be illuminated by the fire light.

Her hand had become a talon, rasping out to scrape along the dirt. It digs several furrows as it retracts, back into the darkness.

Then the old woman coughs, chokes, and leans forward. Her face is red, eyes weepy, and her hand is as before; normal and human.

But the gouges in the dirt remain.

"There…" The old woman has not yet regained her breath, but she speaks regardless. "Child. Proof of my power." She sighs, stretching out her legs, joints cracking gracelessly as she moans. "But that is almost all I can do now. Even I weren't forced to weave all day, I would not have the strength to completely transform and fly away. It was why I was caught, after all. My strengths wanes like the moon, ebbs like the tide. Yet the cycle will end for me soon." She stretches out one bony hand, dirt sullying her fingernails. "There will be no rebirth for me, except through you."

"I-I do not understand."

"I will die soon. My people and their traditions may end with me; I would tolerate that, should it be so." Her shrug is weak, and her eyes narrow. "But I will not tolerate my enemies outlasting me long, should I have anything to say about it. Let me teach you my secrets, the secrets of my ancestors, and I will give you the tools to make our vengeance real."

Songbird stares at the marks, then back to the woman. I watch as her expression grows more animated. But I do not think it is hope that lights her face now, not like love did before. It is something darker.

"If this power is a curse…" I can see her weighing the price of her soul. "…Then I will see it curse my enemies as well as me. What can you teach me?"

Time passes. It is difficult to tell how much; things begin to blur. When I eventually regain focus in the dream, the pen returns, as does Songbird.

But she is alone. Despite this, the pen is louder. I can hear the bustle of workers, even this late at night, some I can even see with the light of a nearby fire burning brightly to guide their work; still, Songbird is focused. Her lips move, like an actress rehearsing her lines. Eventually she slowly nods, satisfied with her preparation.

 _"By the spirits of the air…_ " She intones the words like a teacher, treading firmly over every syllable. Her eyes squeeze closed.

A wind picks up, like with the old woman. But it is stronger, far stronger than before, whipping straw and dirt alike into a whirlwind, rattling the stakes of her pen. A pair of confused and alarmed guards quickly work up the courage to approach, striking their spears against the wooden stakes.

Yet they find nothing but a bird, staring at them intently.

One looks to his comrade in mild alarm. "Was this pen… Always empty?"

The other thinks a moment before shrugging. "Ah, right. The old crone in here finally died. Could barely work anymore, must be empty now.

"Wasn't there a younger one too?"  
"I don't care, we'll find out by morning. She can't have gone far, not with the preparation for the ritual under way. Come one, back to watching the fire, it's cold tonight."

They leave. Soon there is only the bird, which hops around the pen for a moment before darting into the sky.

At first she is clumsy, dipping and weaving and beating the air to gain height. But soon, unlearned instincts must kick in, for she soars, high above the city she hates, and she cries out in wordless joy.

But freedom is not what she seeks, for she turns back, swooping low and slow over the city's rooftops.

And she sings.

Her song is sweet, cloyingly so, beguiling as the sweetest candy. I can imagine that I hear those she passes over sighing in contentment, falling into a deeper and deeper and deeper sleep. The guards at their post have time for to admonish the working slaves once before they too fall into repose, slinking down against wooden walls to lay upon the dirt-packed walkway.

The bird alights on a street, and becomes a woman.

Grimly confident Songbird sings as she passes the slumbering watch, stepping over their bodies without a second glance. She reaches the fire, and gazes into it a moment.

Something passes across her brow, in the flickering light. She stoops low, and picks up a burning branch, watching its bark burn.

Still singing, ever sweetly, she watches it. And then hurls it onto a nearby roof.

This she repeats as the smoke rises, singing and tossing, singing and tossing. Though the air begins to thicken with smoke she sings until everything is alight. Then she pauses.

" _By the spirits of the air…_ "

The bird takes off again, to another campfire, and the small cluster of buildings is quiet beneath her save for the crackling of fire.

She finds another fire, and repeats her patterns. Soon two, then three, then a dozen small communities are ablaze. Slowly the city begins to awake, shouts of alarm spreading from the edges of her conflagration. But they too are silenced when she lands, singing all the while.

Soon the entire city is engulfed. Fire is everywhere and spreading, people fleeing as best they can into the countryside. Above them all she rides the updraft of the Hell she has made, song piercing the smoke even as her flight wavers.

She is forced to land atop the city's highest point, the great earth pyramid mound. But there is no refuge from the smoke, even as she returns to human form, choking on the smog that wraps around and inside the Great Chief's home. She stops to grab a torch, still burning in the open hand of a motionless guard outside, and strides inside with the smoke, singing again.

She lights up the interior, singing sweetly as she sweeps her torch to see. A few fallen bodies fill the entry hall but she ignores them, stepping over them seeking the bedside she must know so well. But she stops, just as her light hits the bed's lip, when her foot kicks something else.

Stepping back and looking down, I can see the mad gleam in her eyes fade. Upon the floor lies the Great Chief, humbled and strangled by the insidious smog.

Cheated of her last goal, she crumples.

Her singing finally falters as she coughs, wheezing in the smoke. She nearly falls to her knees, recovers for a moment, before falling further still. She lies prone on the cool ground as the fire begins to rage above her, and her singing turns to mad laughter.

I think, at the very end, it turns to sobbing.

And a Songbird sings her last breath, though it brought her revenge, she curses the power that has left her feeling empty and useless.

And so Songbird dies.

But an impression remains.

It is still difficult to pin down, but now that I am aware of it, I can almost feel it out, it's edges. Or rather its lack of edges. Whatever this _First_ is, it is almost border-less, without definition. I do not know where it has a beginning, but it seems to end with me.

I feel it offer something to what is left of Songbird. I can dimly perceive she accepts, though what the deal was I do not know.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~~!

I was right. Horrifyingly right.

This Songbird is the first to outright say it, but there _is_ another thread tying them all together.

Beyond having discovered some innate power in their youth, all the people in my dreams grow to use Magic as well and subsequently curse their situation. More specifically, their original power. I guess they really are like me, if you count these dreams as Magic.

And I suppose this might explain why

Am I like them? Are these dreams the first step along my

I refuse to think about it. The future is the future. Nothing is set in stone. All I have to do is look at my own destiny to see how laughable anything else is. Though my family may be known in the distant past for prophecy, we clearly did not see our shame coming. Though I wonder at this mention of "The Great Endeavour" I keep finding references too. No one has ever spoken of something like this before, not even when I would still eavesdrop.

I suppose I will leave that for now.

My impression of the First grows clearer with every third dream, like tonight. I have gone back to my earlier records and solidified my impressions, isolating what was revealed each time.

[Orsola's note: This line explains the bold additions, as noted earlier. However, judging from both the style of writing and fact they are not yet explained, the underling segments arranged from the compiled "12 Days of Christmas" prophecy seem to be added separately and latter still. Similarly, the very first addition in **Entry 0** remains unexplained **.** It is suspected that the mentioned addition came far later than all the others, even these. I will continue underlining it to reflect the difference.]

For some reason, it comes to me as a poem; I continue it below, as I have gained enough for another line. I only wonder why it is this. Perhaps it's just the result of my stressed mind, trying to cope. I guess I just hope it can keep pace.

 **It is terrible and dread.**

 **Awoke from death, yet not dead.**

 **It calls in silence, and It brings a deal.**

 **It knows few and many things.**

On the Fourth Day of Christmas: The Songbird calling

!~~~~~~~~~!

 **The Fifth Summon:**

 **Subject:** Solomon, King of Jerusalem.

 **Temporality:** Circa 1000-931 B.C.E.

 **Capabilities:** Gemstone/Magician Hybrid.

 **Gemstone Ability:** Like Songbird, little is known for certain about Solomon's ability; the only hint is the state that a pair of Necessarius members were found after a defeat at his hands. Neither can fully explain how it happened, but they were split apart by a mysterious power despite all their magical protection, eventually rejoined unharmed. We tentatively assign this the name "Absolute Division", and grant it a tentative level of 3. It seems to have no lasting side effects, but we remain uncertain if any force aside from Imagine Breaker is an effective counter.

 **Magical Skills:** In the magical realm, we are upon more stable ground. King Solomon is a foundational figure in Jewish Kaballah, with his theories and technique in creating golems and understanding heavenly beings. Though not officially associated with Christian mythology, this has not prevented its continued use to this day. The battlefield of the Archbishop's Park also confirms a longstanding assumption about his breadth of power; some level of elemental control is perceived, reportedly in the form of magical rings. It is assumed that Solomon is a potent magical force, though this may not be the limits of his skills.

 **Conclusion:** Known for wisdom and sagacity, Solomon will likely be a dangerous foe if truly committed to Miss Baker's cause. We have yet to concretely determine his potential, but can only assume that, as the first person to successfully kidnap Index Librorum Prohibitorum, he is capable in many arts that we are not aware of. His leadership skills should also not be underrated, given his position as a general and ruler of a strong ancient state. Strongly advised to send in a Saint-class fighter, or at least a diverse team of specialists after considerable recon.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 13: Yesod**

Date: March 26th

 _On the day he discovered his powers, he knew he was a destined king._

The dream begins in a dusty field.

But it is not open to the elements; on all sides there is a high stone wall, a few stray sentries manning its parapets. I cannot see what they overlook on the outside, but inside the courtyard they form there is a large training ground. Groups of soldiers drilled and sparred on the coarse dirt, filling the air with brownish clouds and their warrior cries.

I soon notice that not all the soldier training are alike. Off to one side, near the highest of the walls that form on part of a might keep, standing a young man dressed in simple cloth and armed with a wooden training sword. He rests before a training dummy, standing tall, but his chest heaves with exertion. The dummy of straw and leather titled at a slight angle, but was otherwise undaunted by anything the youth could bring to bear.

For his part, the young man looks equally stoic despite his exercise. His is already tall and strong, but his face is not yet that of a man, his jaw not yet square. In a few years he would pass for an adult, but not quite yet, despite his confident bearing. After looking at his target, he gazes out into the field to scan the warriors scattered before him. I see in his eyes that he is thinking very deeply.

"Wasting more time playing around, are we?"

The young man does not turn, and I do not see who is speaking to him. Yet he remains calm and shoves his wooden sword into a thick rope belt around his waist. "I have explained before, brother. This is not play: I am learning."

"Learning is pointless. Better to just act decisively, you fool." I hear footsteps, and another figure steps into view. This man is taller, his short beard thick on his chin, and he bears himself with swaggering pride as he is flanked by a handful of formally dressed guards. "I only wish I could spend as much time as you playing make-believe, but some of us have a Kingdom to inherit."

The young man finally turns to what must be his older brother, looking sternly disapproving. "Please, brother, Father still lives. You do not want to seem over-eager for the responsibility of leadership."

This must be a familiar conversation, for the older does not even hesitate as he frowns. "It is a privilege, you fool! Not a responsibility! Ruling is what our family has earned from our deeds, not some duty or burden from above."

The training field is noisy, so only a few nearby soldier look over to the commotion. They quickly turn away, as if witnessing what should be a secret, private shame. So the two royal children, as I gather, are left unattended.

The younger man remains silent for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. When he does speak, it is firmly. "You know I have no intention of challenging you, respected brother. Your place is to rule." Seeing this mollify his sibling, the youth continues. "I merely seek to help you with whatever judgment I can offer, to serve the Kingdom and Yahweh with all my skill."

"So why sit here and play soldier? Should you not be lecturing me instead like an old wet-nurse?" Though Adojinah waits for response to his jest, Solomon answers immediately.

"I suspect that if I understand more about the soldiers who defend them both, I may grasp better how to help them succeed. That is my purpose, so I watch them and learn."

"Understand them? The common folk!?" The older brother laughs raucously, drawing some pointed looks that soon disperse. "Oh, you truly are a fool, Solomon."

"Perhaps, Adonijah." The young man nods serenely. "But at least I am willing to acknowledge it."

In flash, the older brother has the youth by the throat. Neither is smiling, but only one seems greatly perturbed as he pushed the other up against the training dummy.

"Arrogant boy." Adonijah snarls into Solomon's face, his low tone dripping with acid. "You may be my brother, and the son of the King, but you remain the daughter of that harlot. Remember that I will rule soon."

Despite the hand around his neck and the insult to his mother, Solomon's voice remains steady. "Father will rule for many more years. His health is not so bad as you imply, nor is his judgment so impaired. After all, he currently supports you to succeed him."

"Are you implying that might change!?"

"Those are your words, brother, not mine. Please, I only wish to be helpful to you, brother. I truly do."

Their wills battled for a moment, under the carefully controlled ignorance of the practising soldiers. None seem willing to intervene either way; not under the imposing stares of Adonijah's personal guard. Eventually the royal heir relents and releases the youth.

"For now, you may be right." Stepping back from Solomon, he smiles cruelly. "But he gets old and infirm. He should realize very soon how important it will be for him to step down. Even if he must have it explained to him in no uncertain terms."

"…I see." The young man watches his brother depart, but speaks up one last time. "You would be unwise to do so."

Adojinah pauses, and turns back. Intense anger mars his naturally regal look. When he finally speaks it is in clipped, terse words. "What? Did you say?"

"I said, brother, that you would be unwise to do so." Solomon stretches his shoulders, as if preparing for more exercise. "I am no prophet, but that is a course which will only lead to your frustration."

"I have only said… You imply that…" Near sputtering, the older brother realizes too late that a small crowd had formed. Whatever caution and reverence the soldiers held had been outweighed by the promise of an interesting spectacle.

I've seen the expression on the older brother's face before; the one a proud man wears when he feels he has been impugned. I should be; I've been the cause of such many times.

Eventually Adojinah brings his emotion to rein. "Tch… You always were arrogant, even as a child."

Solomon answers quickly, even as he bends over to touch his toes. "I am only arrogant in that I know the wisdom in God's words. If that is arrogance, then are we not all arrogant, bathed in his blessing?"

"Stop playing with your words, you child. Worshipping God and knowing how the world works are two different things. There is heaven and there is earth." He makes broad sweeping gestures with each arm, stretching them out in turn. "The Lord may rule above, but King's rule on Earth."

Solomon finishes his stretching, shaking his head as he sighs. "Only in his name, brother. Or do you so soon forget the sacrifices of our forefathers?"

Murmuring of superstitious soldiers filled, the air, and for a moment it looks like the older brother is about to storm off in a fuming rage.

But it abruptly subsided. The soldiers silence themselves as the would-be King looks on. A dangerous light has taken his eyes, but his younger brother doesn't notice, or doesn't care. Instead, he merely tightens the straps of his sandals, waiting for Adojinah to speak again.

When he does, it is with false warmth. "Well, Solomon, you seem to be in the mood for fun. How about we-"

"You wish to have a practice duel."

Startled, Adojinah hesitates, but quickly tries to regain his broken confidence. "…Y-yes, but a just friendly sparing match. Between loving brothers, of course. We will let blades decide this argument, and the winner will know they have Yahweh on their side."

"As I expected. You seek to humiliate me." Though clearly displeased, Solomon draws his wooden sword, holding it lightly between them. "Very well. If no less will silence you, I agree."

"My Lords, please, this is not proper." A senior figure among the soldiers has finally worked up the nerve to speak; judging from his anxious expression, he is likely responsible for this training ground and the unanticipated duel it was about to host. "With your father's permission, I could arrange to supervise something more organized, and we could make a great feast out of a friendly tournament. Isn't that-My Lord!" The soldier's exclamation reaches about the crowds shouting as Adojinah draw a real sword from one of his willing guards. "My Lord!" "That is real iron! He could be hurt!" [9]

"Silence your prattle. I don't plan on striking him. Here." He tosses the weapon blade down, and it falls limply at Solomon's feet. "And I will use this." Drawing another sword from a second guard, the older brother raises it aloft, testing the balance, ignoring the whitening face of the senior soldier.

"B-But my Lord, that-! Two royal sons should not come to blows with naked blade, the risks-"

"Silence oaf. Well, Solomon? You've been practising, have you not? It will surely be safe."

The young man quietly stares down at the weapon. The crowd mutters as they wait, and soon Adojinah's smug grins grows smugger still. Eventually a few soldiers begin to turn away, but as they do, the young man reaches down. With his other hand, he picks up the iron sword, and, turning it over once, tosses it far to his side.

"There, see? Even Solomon sees the truth! There is no point to a battle between us brother." All good cheer, either not caring or not realizing how cruelly petty his victory has become. "God is surely mighty, but he would not let the future king of his Holy land lose to a dirty blooded prince. So why even-"

"I am ready."

The older brother's words catch on his tongue. The whispering of the crowd grows to an excited drone as Solomon stands ready, training sword levelled. It is blunt and nicked with notches, but it hovers equal to Adojinah's own blade.

At first the man is stunned. "…You want to use a wooden blade? Are you that arrogant, you brat!?"

For a second, Solomon wonders, and thinks carefully. But eventually he nods. "Perhaps I am. But my mind is my weapon, and the Lord my armour. This is the only physical tool I need to defeat you."

A hush blankets the yard as the witnesses, one by one, realize the sincerity of the young man's words. Even Adojinah's guards grow surprised, feet shuffling on the ground as they back away from their seething master. But the man in question is most silent of all, eyes fixated on his brother. They lock gazes, and neither blinks.

The elder spits. "If you want to use such a cheap provocation..." He dashes forward, slicing crosswise in a long, telegraphed swing. "Then I'll just have to cut you to size along with your toy!"

I see for a brief moment, Solomon frowns. Whether he hoped his brazen would embarrass his brother into a retreat, or force him to use a similar weapon, this must not have been the outcome he was hoping for. Rather than block the succession of blows he move backed away, keeping clear of the iron's long slow arcs.

"Well, brother!?" The sword swings again, and though some soldiers rush to intervene, more hold them back, eager for the show. "Why not defend against me!? What is the matter!?"

It very quickly grows clear: Solomon is not a warrior. Though strong and quick, his brother is the same, but has experience and age on his side. It is all the young man can do to keep moving back, even though it is clear the attacks are aimed not for him, but his wooden sword. Because the moment Solomon falters, it is over.

"Just like your wood, a mind can't stop a good blade. At least…" The iron snakes out, lightning fast this time. "Not more than once!"

It catches the training sword and snicks it in twain. More than half the blade flies off into the crowd; just the haft and a dagger-short stub remain. Solomon stares at the vestiges in rueful annoyance, breathing deeply; I suppose he must have expected such an end, once the battle had begun.

So too did his brother. "There!" Not even winded from his trial Adojinah laughs aloud, turning back to the crowd. "And that is why the young should not challenge their elders! Go back to you playing, boy." His sword dangles in his arms as he struts back to his standing guards, and the soldiers begin to disperse, their show ended.

"No."

Everything stops, including the senior soldier's sigh of relief. Adojinah turns back, yet again, but this time it is with complete confusion. "What? You lost."

"No. This…"

Solomon stands as he was before, still looking down at his weapon. His breath is no longer laboured; he does not even seem to notice the crowd. I cannot tell if he just stands straighter, or if something more fundamental is different, but there a change in his bearing.

As I look upon him, I feel something peculiar. I do not know if I have gained some of Solomon's perception, but I can tell his is focusing intently upon his broken weapon. Something has changed in his mind, in his world-view; I do not know, but I suspect the truth.

"…This is enough."

He holds out the training sword, now just a stump, and levels it towards his opponent.

At first Adojinah is in disbelief. But as the first few ragged cheers of the soldiers sound out for the bravery of his young brother, his face reddens. "Need more lesson, then!? Fine!" He sprints back, closing the distance as he readies a fierce swing "I'll lop it apart until there's nothing left!"

The blade lashes out. Solomon does not move, holding his sword like it is a target.

My suspicion that something had changed was right, though not in the way I had expected.

For though I knew Solomon's powers were about to manifest, I did not anticipate that mid swing his brother's iron sword would split in half.

And not simply split, but be severed. The half that would have sliced into what remained of the training weapon simply hung in the air, all momentum lost, before falling limply to the dirt. There it stuck, waving gently, as Adojinah's momentum carried him past.

For a second, he began to make another enraged pass, but he noted the sudden change in weight in time to stop. His fierce anger turns to stupefaction as he stares and the cleanly sheared sword. Where it was split, each half luminescent in a dull, deep shade of purple.

The stunned quiet that had descended was broken by rapid chattering. Adojinah staggered back a pace, his eyes shifting rapidly between his weapon and his brother. "Demon!"

"No." Solomon just shrugs, calmly indifferent. He no longer bears even a trace of worry. "The Lord grants me wisdom. That is all."

Bellowing incoherently, Adojinah strikes again. This time the hilt itself is split as the remains of his sword fall apart. The scraps of useless iron and leather split from his shaking fingers, and the older brother steps back.

Solomon's eyes are full of knowing, calm and sad and stoic. "It is over."

"Gah!" Adojinah strides away, kicking at his weapon. "M-my weapon was tampered with! It must have been! No one, NO ONE shall speak of this!" The soldiers scatter as he passes, fearing the wild swings of his arms. "Get back to your training, louts!"

Slowly they obey, but every man among them spares at least a glance for the calm young man, who so effortlessly won the challenge. Solomon himself does not notice the attention, or at least he does not show it. Instead, when fewer watch him, he collects the fragments of his brother's weapon. Gathering them up, he lays them out upon the ground, squinting at them with intense focus.

The dull purple glow, still bordering their cuts, pulses once, and is gone. The weapon is whole again. He picks it up, gives it a swing, and nods once.

Almost as an afterthought, he remembers his training sword. He gathers the other chunk fallen nearby the keep's wall and presses it together with his shorn half. He squints again.

There is no purple glow; the wood remains unbound.

"Fascinating." He lets the pieces tumble to ground and promptly ignores them, distracted by a sudden frenzied shout.

"…Solomon! Solomon, where are you!? Sol…Ah!" A wizened old man comes running from the keep's main gates, opposite where Adojinah left with his guards, threading between the ranks of confused soldiers. "There you are! Come quickly, come quickly, I must provide you with advice!"

"Greetings, Prophet Nathan. But you do not need to fear." Solomon clasped the confused man on the shoulder to steady his nerves. "I have already had my encounter with my brother."

"…Then he has already made his move?" This revelation does little to improve the prophet's mood, though he does calm down. Instead he curses, spitting upon the dirt. "Then it is too late. But it doesn't matter; we can manage despite what the soldiers may think. Now, please, my prince, follow me, your mother-"

"I said you have nothing to fear, old friend." Solomon's firm grasp fell on the older man's shoulder, his light smile brimming with assurance. "My brother will not become King; this I know for certain."

The prophet hesitates and casts his eyes about for nearby listeners before leaning in to whisper. "Solomon. You were always a level head, but now I must say you surprise even me. What has happened to you? I feel…" Nathan took a step back, pulling at his greying beard as he narrowly studied the youth. "I feel you are different. How did you penetrate your brother's plot?"

"I simply looked at him. He is no schemer. I have followed him around and tried to grow closer to him long enough to see that." The young man sighs, leading his confused mentor back the way he had come. "Adojinah is concerned that by the time father has passed, he will have lost his position as heir due to his growing avarice. He seeks to gain power now, to feel more secure. On top of that, it is fuels by his impatient and reckless nature. It was inevitable he would make this attempt."

"That is true… My own thoughts as well." The prophet followed Solomon closely, yet I could sense the curiosity dancing behind his old but bright eyes. "That does not explain what must have just transpired. Some friends I have among his told me he planned to seek you out to cow or embarrass you, because you were a clear favourite among the King's children. But how did you know?"

The young man blew air, waving his hand dismissively as they passed through the large wooden gates. "This is just an escalation of what I am used to; he does not consider me a brother, as Bathsheba, my mother, is not his own. So he will try to have me killed within a few months, once suspicion from this event has quieted down. His attempts will be clumsy, but he will use as many of his personal guard as the heir apparent as he can trust. Since I have no one, I must prepare my own measures first, in pre-emptive tactic."

"…You talk of your own murder rather well, child." But the prophet's words are not admonishment; instead his expression is filled with wonder. "What insight is this? Have you… Also been granted a touch of God's glory? Of foresight?"

"Maybe. I have been granted something, at least." Solomon answers calmly as he looks over his hands, studying them like one might gaze at a particularly detailed work of art. "But it does not matter; I must merely use my abilities to achieve the greatest good."

The prophet laughs, nodding. "An admirable goal; you truly are your father's son, though a little more thoughtful and a little less warlike." The two men amble a little further past the keep; ahead of them is a dry, dusty path, leading down to a shoreline. On it rests a sizable city, its high sandstone walls scoured clean by the salty sea breeze. They are alone now, away from the keep. "He is proud of you, you know. He speaks highly."

"My father is a good man. I can only hope to do half so well as he. So I will go along with your plan."

The prophet Nathan nods sagely. "You are making a wise choice, my… M-my prince? What did you just…?" He turns back, belatedly noticing Solomon has stopped walking.

The young man stands, and looks over the city and shoreline. A strange tranquility descends upon him. "I know I will be my father's successor."

This time, the revelation freezes the prophet. He quickly checks for prying ears, then huddles close to the youth, tensely grasping his sleeve. "…B-but how? I could see you piercing your brother's plot, but mine and your mothers…? There is no way! Who spoke to you of this?"

"No one. I merely followed the flow of power."

As the prophet stares, Solomon merely shrugs.

"There are many factions vying to rule. Right now the most legitimate after my father, King David, remains my brother, as legal heir. But he is impulsive, and will surely ruin in his haste what would be certain in time. Others like yourself have seen this, and either for the good of the Kingdom or for their own personal gain have begun to maneuver for control.

"You in particularly will surely work with my mother, Bathsheba. You both have has the ears of my father, and seek the greater good of the Kingdom and its people over anyone ruler. You suspect that, even if I am not the perfect heir, I would be easier to control at least through advice. But do not fear," Solomon raises his hand, warding off any excuses. "I know you mean it well. And I will need your help.

"But since there will be many who will be opposed to my rule once it begins, I will need more than allies. Regrettably I must purge a number of my father's former retainers. Loyalty and good service to him will mean nothing to me; I know that without more power, there are those who would plot under me. Within a year the court should be firmly under my control, so long as I continue to enjoy your able counsel. I only wish I had more I could trust…"

"My counsel? In the face of all you have just said…"The prophet's hands, still clutching the prince's sleeve, fall limp, and he humble removes himself a respectful distance away. "…The angels spoke to me of God's word, saying you would be the wisest of Kings. I am awed by the Lord's sagacity."

The praise seems like it pains the young man, but the moment passes. "Careful or you will make me prideful, prophet." Solomon laughs, turning back to the older man. "Now, what say you…"

Solomon's voice catches in his throat. I see, for the first time, something like indecision fill his expression. For what he and I both see in the prophet's face is not merely respect, nor even awe.

I see fear in his eyes.

"My prince? Why do you hesitate?"

"…It is nothing, old friend. Come, let us go."

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

Another easy dream to research. This could only be Solomon, King of Ancient Israel and ancient Jewish prophet. I do not know why I am surprised to hear he will become a Magician, but I am. Given how much religion at first detested all forms of Magic, it is curious so many have flocked to it. I suppose that is the nature of power.

I also suppose I have begun to see more patterns. I wonder if I will see his magic in the second dream? Or will it be the third, when he has his inevitable fall? I could do some research at the library on him, but I doubt it will be necessary.

My preparations to run away carry on apace. I think my father has begun to suspect something is wrong, but I cannot hesitate now. There is little more to say, at the time. Though I still ponder where I will go. Where I could find someone who might give me some answers. Or at least, give me the skill to do something about these dreams.

Because I'd like them to stop please.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 14: Hod**

Date: April 2nd

The dream begins on a dusty road. At first, I can see nothing, save for a large cloud of dust kicked up as if a marching army approaches. But the sound I hear is too strange for stomping feet. There is a strange hum punctuated by odd clanking noises. Whatever causes it, the cloud is moving towards a small group of people, scattered outside their modest community of mud-brick houses. They seem eager but terrified at the same time, like cautious birds awaiting seed from a stranger.

Before the cloud of dust draws too close, I hear the noises quiet. The cloud slows and settles, eventually revealing what seems like a magnificent parade float of some kind. I only gradually realize how ridiculous that first assessment is.

Instead I see it is a throne, atop a large, mobile dais. It is a monstrosity. Just maybe, we could make something similar in our modern area, but would still be a marvel. I do not know how it moves, but I see vague, ill-defined shapes beneath its weighty platform. The platform itself raises six steps, with a life-sized golden lion flanking each side, twelve total guarding a great and luxurious throne. Their mouths snarl in ferocious defence of their master, and I realize with shock that their jaws appear hinged; their paws too move around, in convincing simulacrum of life.

They each face inwards, as if judging any who might approach the throne itself, raised upon the platforms highest point. It is shaped like a soaring eagle, whose wings wrap protectively around a man seated casually above the quavering crowd. [10]I immediately recognize Solomon: his beard is thicker and his eyes less alert, but he retains the same stoic demeanour as he scans the people who must be his subjects. He does not truly look much older, yet I still get the impression of great age: it may be that he has traded in his simple training gear for a luxurious robe, royally purple.

"Another small town." He does not sigh, but still I hear he is weary. "How many more like it, steward, before we finish this year's survey?"

I realize now that the statue kneeling beside the throne itself is not a statue, bent in supplication, but a man. Without raising he peels open a papyrus scroll by his feet, one of many in a large basket, quickly reading. "Three more, my King."

"As I remembered. That is not so bad."

"…Three more remaining for this month, my King. There are still the northern provinces."  
"As I also remembered. It is good the Lord gives us patience alongside wisdom. This work is necessary for the benefit of the people, to ensure our prosperous trade benefits all equally. And it will ensure the people know I am their rightful King."

The steward, who at first seemed apologetic, pauses cautiously for a moment before nodding. "…Yes, my King. Shall we, ah, begin?"

"Yes."

"Very well, my King." The steward keeps his head low as he inches forward, down the snarls. Impossibly, the nearest lion growls at him, and though the man flinches he does not turn, seemingly used to the illusion. When he is at the lowest step, he stands straighter, speaking in a loud voice. "Good people! As promised, the King is hear! Send forward your village head! We would hear his report!"

"Yes, my Lords! Yes, I am here!" An older man presses forward, one hand holding a thick staff, the other propping him up against a younger, fitter youth. "I, I have the report you requested!"

"Then speak!"

"We have ample food this year, my Lords! As the King predicted, the rains fell better in the north end of the valley, so we relocated our farms there, as ordered. And, ah, the trade caravans have reported only one attempt at robbery upon the roads between here and Tyre, my Lords. The roads are nearly perfectly-"

"Steward." The old man freeze as Solomon interrupts. The entire audience, already respectfully quiet, grows hush as the King continues. "We will send another five men this fall to bolster the local guard, and replace the entire garrison at the third checkpoint. Send word when we reach Taanach."

The steward looked back at his King before swallowing and facing forward. "Y-yes, my Kind. Old man! Please, continue."

"A-ah, yes, sorry! I, uhm… That is really all we have of note to report, my Lords. Our community thrives under your benevolent guidance."

"Excellent. Thank you for your work leading these people! Now, any who wish to peti-"

"Wait, steward."

"…My King?"

"Village head."

"Y-yes, My King?"

"Why do some of your people hold their stomachs?" Solomon's gesture makes the crowd recoil nervously, but he remains calm. "They stand weak and infirm."

"W-we did not intend to bother you with such trifles, my Kind, but…" The village head taking a steadying breath, fingers of one hand drumming on his staff. "Our village and the neighbouring one, to the North, we have been experiencing a small spate of illness, but it is nothing significant, we merely-"

"Do you and this village draw water from the same well?"

"…Yes, one lies between us. But how did you know?"

"Contact them and dig yourselves a new well, at least a thousand paces in any direction from the first. Then destroy the first well, and never use it again. The sickness will stop."

The man does not seem particularly upset that his question had been ignored. Instead the village head turns his awe-filled eyes, back up to the King. Eventually, despite his age, he stoops low, and the rest of his community quickly follow suit. "My King… Your wisdom is heavenly. Though the water seems clean, we obey."

Solomon is impassive. He waits, and eventually the steward realizes there is another duty to fulfill. "R-right! As our King decrees, so it is so! Now, as is his will, any who wish to petition upon King Solomon's wisdom, please step forward! No rushing, all who show respect and speak the truth shall hear his glorious advice!"

The sun is nearly setting by the time that last of the questions come and go. Most are petty concerns, but a few are surprisingly deep. Yet Solomon answers each one instantly and impassively, rendering sage wisdom. Sometimes I can see it is heeded, and the questioners face lights up bright with hope. At other times it is clearly ignored, or rouses only anger. Yet Solomon remains impassive.

Abruptly there is a commotion, on the edge of the line of houses. Eventually there is a shout of pain, and woman breaks out sprinting towards the field, closely followed by a limping man. Behind him is another woman, carrying a child, and all three quickly approach the throne.

Solomon eyes them expressionlessly, but raises his voice. "Why were these women kept from petitioning me? Village head speak."

"My King, truly! I am sorry!" The old man quails under the weight of the simple question, burdened down by his deception. "But it is a shameful affair, we, we did not want to, we were afraid-"

"Let them speak. You, speak first."

The angrier woman struggles free from the man holding her back, falling prostrate before the throne. But her bitter anger rings out across the grassy field as she struggles back to her feet. "This harlot and I lived together under the same roof as sisters, and we both gave birth near the same time. But when her child died in its sleep, she swapped our babes and kept mine for herself! She has stolen my child, and I cannot forgive her!"

"And I say I haven't! Sister, please believe me!" The other woman approaches, weeping nearly as loud as her babe, swaddled in fine cloth. "I would never take your child; it just died of illness. No one heard me make a switch, there is no way I would do that to you! I grieve for your loss, but this is my child!"

"Lies! Your must have smothered it out of jealousy, there is no other explanation. It was perfectly healthy, where you was sickly, but look! The babe now is as fit as could be. It must be my child!"

"Enough."

Solomon's voice is enough to shatter their fiery exchange. Tearful and fearful each woman drops to the ground, grovelling.

"Bring me the child. I will end this confusion."

There is a moment's confusion, but eventually the steward pries the crying baby from the woman's arms and carries it awkwardly up past the snarling lions. He holds it aloft, before his King.

Solomon stares at it impassively.

The baby continues to cry.

Eventually the King extends one hand. The baby abruptly ends its wailing.

I am forced to watch as it splits down the middle along a purple glowing slice. The baby, the cloth it was swaddled in, both are cut neatly as if with the most perfect knife.

For a second, the audience is silent. But then they are wailing themselves, many falling to ground, clutching their heads as they cry in horror. The baby twitches, jerking in what must be shock.

"There. Take him back to the women, and give each her half." The Steward is a statue again, unwilling or unable to look at his tender charges. "Go, now. Each should be satisfied."

Shuddering, trembling, the Steward descends again. He reaches the bottom, and holds out two unsteady arms.

The first woman, the angrier, has no reaction at first. Then she turns white and runs, sprinting back into the village, making not a sound.

The second is trembling, but remains fixed to the ground, her eyes fixated on the horror of the baby. Slowly one hand reaches out, clenching and opening weakly as she stretches in abject sympathy. "My child, my child, my poor sweet child, no, no…"

The King stares impassively. And claps his hands.

The baby is made whole. It hiccoughs once, then begins to howl anew.

"No good mother would run from her child in that state. She has proven yourself the more loving. It truly is your child; raise him well."

The Steward hears the King's words, and so mutely shoves the babe back into the woman's arms. She stares at it, hugs it tight, and passes out. Men from the community rush to care for her as the throne begins to rumble.

"Steward. We leave. Return to my side."

The man makes no response as he climbs the dais's stairs. He does not even blink at the lion's even as one roars threateningly inches to his side. He meekly climbs and kneels at his King's side.

The throne picks itself up, and with the same alarming motion moves out again, back across the grassy countryside.

"My King, may… May I speak?"

"Yes, steward."

"Did… Was that truly necessary?"

"It was. Or rather, it was best to be done this way. I might have spared their feelings some, but not only was this faster, but it will have a more lasting effect. It will even prove to be a bonding experience, as both now have a taste of loss, and will eventually comfort each other, and learn to fear me at the same time. This story will spread, and will eventually omit all reference to the actual act: thus I can assure you, in the long run this course is best."

"Of course, My King! I don't intend to doubt your wisdom…" Though he falls silent, I get the impression the steward still struggle with something.

"Speak, if you wish to." The King must agree with me.

"…Should we really have done that to a person? A baby, no less?"

"I understand and respect your kind nature, Steward. But the child was in no danger. I am in absolute control. Both of my power, and of my Kingdom."

They fall silent for a moment, and the throne's hum is all that is heard as it powers across the grasslands.

"…Though you give me an idea." Solomon eventually speaks again, surprising his steward. "You are aware that I have, with my power, bound demons to my service, making Djinn's work God's Will despite their broken nature?"

"It is just one of your many magnificent works, My King. Such Djinn's power this throne, do they not? I've seen you use them to make animals follow your commands, animate objects-"

"Yes. But I have never split a living person before, like I split the demons. With them, I was able to see their inner working, bend them to my will. But the baby was different."

"…My King?"

"The baby was not just more complex. It was fundamentally different." I see a bit of the old light in Solomon's eyes return. "I am very interested. All my wisdom tells me nothing of this. I think I will investigate. For I foresee a troublesome future for our people, and I see no way out with all my wisdom. I must know more, to break this dire prophecy."

"But… My King…"

"Yes? What troubles you about this course?"

"…I just realized, that woman did not even thank you! We should return, and-"

I suspect The King realizes this is deception to mask the steward's discomfort, but I cannot be certain. Solomon is very difficult to read. "Being a King should be a thankless job, Steward. We press on."

"As you, say, My King."

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

I have done it. Having taken this step, I've truly turned my back upon the cabal. Upon my heritage, whatever my burgeoning powers may suggest otherwise.

But then again, I do not care about the consequences. Not any more. Luckily I doubt anyone checks the vault very often. And now, I know a little more about my family history than I did before. I don't know if father ever intended to tell me about my mother's past, or her great-grandfather and his prophecy I hold. I suppose I can imagine why: I wouldn't have believed it! Of all things, a song.

More importantly, I have finally learned of the "The Great Endeavour". Apparently, it is not merely the purpose of the cabal: it is its name! Or rather, was. For some reason, it was abandoned. No wonder I have never heard of it; it must be something dramatic to have caused such a shift.

Our goal apparently was to find the ultimate truth. I have no idea what that would entail, or why it was worth so much work and sacrifice. Truth has never been something I've enjoyed discovering.

Now that I think about, I have never once questioned my lifestyle. I know we are not like other people, leaving away from the city in an old manor. I know most people are not magicians. But apparently there are other groups like us? Or not like us? And still more, that would hunt us down since we do not bow to the temporal authorities? What on Earth have we been doing all this for?

Now that I have questioned, I realize my arrogance. I know _nothing_ of the world outside. No one ever talks of the subject; only the privileged few are allowed outside, and I have already stretched their tolerance to the limit asking for books on irrelevant history. If I ask for something about the outside world, they will discover me instantly.

There is nothing for it. I must make the plunge into the unknown blindly. I must trust to my good sense.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 15: Netzach**

Date: April 4th

The dream begins in a vast chamber.

It is truly vast, round like an amphitheatre but barrel-like, extending upwards into darkness. A Long bridge extends through its middle, below which there is a painfully bright light. I cannot tell for certain but I feel it is hot, sweltering: I can see waves of heat coruscating around and over the edges of the bridge. The room is something like a forge or furnace, but massive, on the scale of mythic Gods. I could imagine a titan beating down on a colossal anvil, hammer ringing in the golden glow of the fires below.

Instead, there is a single man, facing away from me. He stands patiently in the centre of the bridge. The path bulges out there, into a wide circle just before him, but that circle is a ring: a hole opens up in the middle, and a strange thin pillar of glowing white stretches up before him. It is topped by a large sphere, also glowing white: I realize it is with incredible heat, but the man does not care.

His hands are crossed behind his back in two fists. I can see rings on his fingers, two on each hand; they seem bright and gaudy, shimmering in the golden glow of the room. But even as I watch, he lets them fall by his side. His shoulders which had been slumped stiffen, and then straighten, growing proud. He stands there, waiting.

Eventually I hear footsteps, the sound of someone approaching down a long flight of stairs. After a minute, someone emerges behind the man. I recognize the face of the steward from before, though he is older, much so. His face is already red from the heat, and he can hardly breathe, but he pushes forward onto the bridge regardless.

Though the stone beneath him must be uncomfortably hot he kneels. "My King? Might I disturb you?"

"You might." The man turns, and my guess is proven correct. It is Solomon, though somewhat aged. I can see from the lines in his eyes, even if his hairs have yet to grey. He wears the same purple robe from the last dream, which covers the bottom of a thin chain dangling around his neck. "Speak."

"My Lord, I came to you with news of the taxation, as you requested." The steward struggles to speak in the blistering heat. "With the adjustments to the levy you ordered, not a single tax-collector was accosted, but each reported that the people are strained to the limits."

"Good. The royal coffers must be filled, if the state is to be protected. I know exactly how much they need to get by, and my successor must have ample resources since he shall work without my guidance." "You are wise, My King." The steward pauses, thinking a moment.

"You have word about the Northern 10 tribes."

His servant perks up, suddenly anxious. "Yes! That is right, my King, I was meaning to warn you. Our agents have also reported that, though the people are satisfied with your rule, they fear that your son will not be as blessed and wise as you, and already are making overture that they will…" The steward trails off, realizing he was speaking for no reason. Solomon nods once, slowly.

"As I suspected."

"You know? Already?"

The King turns his back, shoulder still firm. "I do."

The steward pauses, and then shrugs. I gather from his sigh and smile he thought himself used to his experience. "Then in your infinite wisdom, I am certain you will find a way to protect the Kingdom for perpetuity."

"We shall see." Solomon turns in doubt, startling his servant as he looks back to his glowing white orb. "We shall see."

"W-well!" Shocked by uncertainty, the steward scrambles for solid ground. "…It is well that you are so able an administrator, My King! Giving us advice to last us months of your absence…" The steward swallows, realizing what his words imply. "But do not think we doubt you! Though some people wonder at how long you remain down here in the very depths of your mines, all understand you must have a reason for it."

"I do."

There is a long moment of uncomfortable silence, broken only when the steward began wheezing. For a fleeting instant, I see Solomon start to turn, but he apparently masters the impulse.

Instead the steward speaks again, having recovered from his distress. "S-sorry, my King… Your mines grow ever deeper. Who knew…" He risks a glance over the edge to the glow below, but does not stray from the centre of the bridge. "…That there was such fire in the Earth's belly?"

"I did."

This time the steward falters, bowing immediately.

"I-I apologize, will let you work, My King, you-"

"Look, steward, before you leave." Solomon stretches out his right hand, and it cups an unseen field of force that surrounds the glowing white orb. The steward's eyes are glued to the sight, and he unconsciously inches closer and to the side to better see. "This is ancient dirt. Clay still hot from the earliest moments of the earth, as if freshly formed by God's hand. Clay like that which formed Adam."

The steward treats this information like the most precious of secrets. "It is… A wonder, my King."

"Yes. It held great purpose, once." There is a peculiar whimsy in the King's tone. "I wonder if it might again."

His servant watching in awed stupefaction, Solomon lets both hands fall by his side. The jewels of his rings glitter, basking in the radiance of the glowing orb. I finally realize, though, that the rings are glowing with their own light. One burns red, one shimmers blue; another is lustrously white, while the last greenly glitters. The gemstones seated in each band of gold twinkly brightly, defying the chambers great heat and light.

Their ambient glow becomes painful, but not through my eyes. I can feel a weight behind them, a pressure in my mind that weighs awkwardly, makes me want to look away. But I must suffer through the feeling, my gaze dictated by the dream.

My eyes are forced up, and I am shocked to see four swirling vespers above Solomon's head. They hovering like fireflies, swaying about, but they ignore the gusts of heat and wind. The gaseous shapes glow, each the colour of a ring which I grow certain must have produced them, but I have no idea what they could be. There is a vague human form, somewhere within each ill-defined cloud of gas and light. But they are not human. I am certain of that, whatever they are.

"Behold. Four Djinns, my most powerful servants, demons each. Each bound to an element, and bound to my command."

"They are truly a miracle to behold! L-Like the Lord's angels themselves!"

"Yes. In fact, that is what they are."

The Steward's beatific expression is arrested by sharp panic. "…M-my King? What could you mean?"

"Angels and demons are alike in the same way that a working lever is to a broken one." Solomon has no realized the effect of his words; he has turned back to the glowing ball of super-heated clay. "Fallen demons have simply lost control to mad impulses, but they and angels are each nothing more than complicated machines. I have fixed them by splitting them down and down and down again, until their innermost workings were laid bare before me. I repaired them, and so gained dominion of them."

I watch the older man, his greying hair fluttering in the waves of heat, look upon his lord's back. I cannot imagine what he must be thinking, from his expression, but his voice is astoundingly calm. "Why do you tell me this, my King?"

"Because I feel I must." The answer is simple, as if long-prepared. "This is to be an experiment. I will take them and their heavenly energy, along with this antediluvian [11] clay, and see what I can create. And then…" Solomon's right hand disappears into his flowing robes. "And then I will attempt to bind it in this."

He grasps the chain that dangles from his neck, and pulls forth the fifth and final ring that it loops neatly through. On its is a diamond, breathtaking in its perfection.

"A perfect diamond, more perfect than any on earth. Forged by man. By me. And when the clay, combined with angelic power, the same breath that created man, has been shaped anew, I can use the clarity of this diamond to peer into the mysteries of life."

I realize now that the chamber is full of a roaring wind. I do not know when it had begun, of it was always there, but it is suddenly deafening. But neither men seem to notice as the steward speaks again.

"But what will happen? What will you see?"

"Perhaps nothing. Perhaps something. My wisdom does not tell me. I wish to know why."

"Is this not blasphemy? Are you trying to make new life?"

"I do not know. If that is what happens, so be it. I just do not want there to be a gap in my wisdom. I cannot allow it. I wish to understand people. That is all."

"Is that…"

"Yes. Ask me."

"…Is that wise?"

"Truly?" Solomon shrugs; a gesture than on anyone else would be natural looks painful and forced. "I do not know." He snaps the chain around his neck, and tosses the ring forward. It flies out then hovers just before the glowing orb of clay. "But I must know. It could be important for the nation. I cannot abide any gaps in my wisdom. I cannot fail."

The King's hands shoot outwards; his worn rings erupt with piercing colour. The Djinns, the angels above resonate in turn and each grows more distinct. The clouds that surround them grow in density; I see steaming water in one, whirling vortexes of air in another. Flickering flames that spread and crumbling earth that grows. From each, and steady stream pours down, funnelling mass and power into the diamond ring. It bears it all, radiant in a way I cannot describe. The King's hands reach forward and grasp something invisible; they strain, whitening, but a thin gout of the clay begins to spiral towards him, sizzling as it magically penetrates the diamond.

For a long time, the two were quiet, one man in quiet exertion, the other in deep contemplation. The diamond's radiance blooms.

"…Perhaps if I had been wiser, I might have not have had to be King."

There is no time for the steward to register his shock. The chamber erupts with energy.

But it is not destructive. Instead, something is born.

It is like some sort of dreamscape has descended upon the world. As the two men stagger and recover their vision, I can see clearly. At least, as clearly as the golden glow allows, for the air is hazy and indistinct. The walls of the chamber are gone, as is the heat and the roar of sound. The flow of energy has ended; above, the Djinn float peacefully, like fish in water, and the clay has been entirely absorbed by the diamond.

I do not know how it was described as perfect before. Now it is almost unreal with perfection, or perhaps too real, too ideal. It rests in the air, motionless in the suffused golden light.

The King's reverence extends to his expression, openly in wonder. His hand trails through the air, leaving a wake behind it in the golden texture of this world; the light is solid, not quite a mist, but not quite a sea. A joyful smile spreads upon his face. "…Heaven…?"

The steward stands silent. He has made no reaction that I can see. He is almost not there, by contrast with the suddenly animated King. He laughs aloud.

"I see. I see!" His face is alight; I can almost hear his heart pounding as he laughs and raises his arms. "What glory is God! What wisdom has He!" The sound of his joy is somehow more whole, despite the distorting and echoing effect the golden light seems to be creating.

The King is beaming as he steps forward, thoughtlessly blowing ripples in the air as he moves towards his perfect diamond. He peers into it, chuckles still, weaving what must be intricate magic in preparation for his plans.

"And now… And now I will understand." He gazes upon the ring, caresses it with such tender affection. "I have such power. Such potential. What I can do… What I can make! I can, I can do better, I can-"

"My King."

The King's glee is a frozen mask upon his face. He slowly turns.

"…Is this wise?"

A shadow spreads across it.

And just like that, the dreamscape fractures.

But does not shatter completely; whatever the experiment has done, wherever it has taken us, is no less real. The golden glow is no less golden, no less holy and inviting, yet where once it hovered serenely it now begins to stir and flow. I am suddenly filled with a sense of utmost dread, of impending doom and encroaching madness.

The King feels it too: with a flick of his fingers he has rapidly thrown up a barrier of some kind. The Golden glow at first is repelled, but quickly eats into it. For a second he is alarmed, but he quickly recovers a cool anger.

"Now, I must act now! I must, I must shape this vessel before-!" He turns to the diamond.

It has cracked, down the middle. A fatal flaw.

The world reflects it; from horizon to horizon, a line runs through the sky. It appears without warning, and like a shattered mirror, the dreamscape is no longer whole.

The King's rage builds. He commands the Djinns, and they leap to his aid, diverting the golden energy around him. They absorb it, shape it, colour it and so command it, but it is too much. Still the King works, madly muttering. His fingers dance, and the diamond splits. And splits. And splits and split again and again, becoming nothing but a purple fog. But I can see he still divides, rending down the diamond, trying to make it whole.

His expression changes. I can see him begin to smile, grin and laugh aloud. Despite what feels like the universe itself warning him back, he is on the cusp of success.

He reaches back, glowing light from the diamond in his fingertips, and he prepares to make a thunderous clap.

But a noise behind him is distracting. It is horrible, but only belatedly and with exasperation does the King turn to see the source.

The golden glow has encircled the steward. Where it goes near, his form is perverted. His flesh billowed outwards like some carnival reflection. It is grotesque, but somehow the man lives on. And presses forward.

Through the pain and terror, the Steward is running forward, slow motion through the soupy reality, towards his King.

Solomon stops. He realizes something.

He looks around, and sees they are surrounded.

An impossible heavenly host is descending, ascending, closing in from all sides. My mind cannot describe it; it does not stick in my memory. I just remember incredible numbers and obscene power.

And impending judgment.

Solomon looks back to his Steward. The light has nearly left his eyes, but still the man is reaching out for his King.

"-a fool!"

Crying wordless anguish, the King wrenches himself away and turns from his diamond, fighting the slowing effect of the golden light, even as it bursts his barrier and begins to contort him insanely. Taking all the power he has gathered, he brings his hands down and claps them together.

The bubble bursts.

There is darkness.

At first, I suspect the dream has ended.

But there is no voice, so I wait.

Eventually there is breathing. Slow, weak, and unsteady; but still, breathing.

I realize we are back in the chamber, if we ever truly left, but the light from below is gone. So too is the heat; there is only a lingering smell of smoke and sulphur. The only glow that remains is from the four Djinns, so weak as to be nearly non-existent. But they gradually shed enough light to reveal Solomon, lying upon his back, bloody and torn under his royal robes.

I hear a groan nearby, and see in the dismal lighting that the Steward is alive. But rather than being even more torn than his King, the old man seems unharmed. He is equally disbelieving, running his hands over his body as he struggles to his feet. When he sees Solomon, he grows pale.

"My King! No, my King!" Fearing not the darkness or the deadly drop to either side, the Steward sprints forward. He takes one look at the wounds, and decides to not try and lift the much larger man. "W-we need to… I shall go, I will get aid!"

"It is too… Late for that. Too late by far." Amazingly, Solomon can raise his arm; he does so, giving his Steward's arm a friendly if dreadfully weak pat. "But for now, we yet live. Thanks to you."

"To… To me? I thought… I thought maybe you would live, but here I am… How, how was I…" The man looks down, and sees in the brightening chamber that the diamond ring has fallen, cracked and impure beside the King. Somehow, from that alone, he pieces it together. "…You have saved me?"

"No. You saved me. …Though not completely. I feel I might be too far fallen for that. Despite your most noble efforts."

"W-what did you do? You were going to create something, but I saw, they were coming for you, I had to warn-"

"Hush. All is well, now." Solomon smiles a peaceful smile. "I understood your warning. I understood. And I understand now."

The Steward is quiet.

"I just wanted… To know better. To make better choices. I understood people, nations, armies and concepts. Or perhaps, I thought I did." Solomon's smile is bitter now, but he laughs despite the pain. "But I always struggled to understand others. Individuals."

His servant's hand trembles, and he steadies it upon the ground.

"You showed me… A choice. I had the power to make my perfection. And I had the power to remake you." Solomon smiles, sincerely again. "So I remade you as you were, as I remembered. Quite whole. Quite perfect."

"…M-my King?"

"I will die now. I know it is my end. I have no right to meddle more, not after this. Live well, and-"

"NO!"

Solomon seems startled. Not merely startled, but to his core, surprised. The Steward is crying over him, shedding tears of utmost loss.

"Do not think- You must know Israel needs you! The people need you! We are not ready for you to die yet, no matter the mistakes you made!" "You may have been distant and cold, but you still cared! We know you did, that is why we obeyed! Just, just don't think-"

"Please." Solomon's hand grips his servant, forcing his emotions back. "In that world. This is what I chose. Right or wrong. Wise or foolish."

A strange light enters Solomon's eyes. I do not know what to make of it.

"…Israel will split, and fall. We, our people, will experience great tragedies. It may be my fault. You must try to help them. Do as best you can. Lead others by example. Be ready for hope." He looks up, up into the eyes of his faithful companion, over what must have been many years. "I have faith in you. Like I used to have faith in myself. I have faith in you."

The King's eyes fade.

"Goodbye, my Steward…"

King no longer, Solomon smiles, lightly crying.

"…And thank you, friend."

And as he lay upon the ground, cradled in the Steward's arm, understanding too late the mysteries of humanity, Solomon curses weakly the power that lead him to his hubris.

So Solomon dies.

But he does not end. Not completely.

The void is black, the timeless, space-less, reality-less chasm. The presence, the First, comes to whatever is left of Solomon. There is no resistance. The deal is made and struck.

All for a second chance.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

I was wrong. They check the vault often. I leave tonight. I cannot wait.

Goodbye, my family, father, my sisters, my brother, who

I am sorry they killed her bec

I a

[Orsola's note: A large section of the page has been torn off here in some hurry; presumably an attempt to leave behind a note. There is no way to obtain the information omitted without a complex temporal spell to reverse the physical condition of the journal. However, seeing as the Archbishop has temporarily banned this type of spell in light of current circumstances and for fear of completely ending reality, this will have to be recovered at a later date. Below, scribbled on what little page remains, is the familiar poem with an additional line, just like before.]

 **It is terrible and dread.**

 **Awoke from death, yet not dead.**

 **It calls in silence, and It brings a deal.**

 **It knows few and many things.**

 **It is nothing, yet still clings.**

On the Fifth Day of Christmas: The King awakening

!~~~~~~~~!

 **The Sixth Summon:**

 **Subject:** Lu Bu, the Flying General, "China's Greatest Warrior".

 **Temporality:** Circa 155/160 - 199 A.D.

 **Capabilities:** Gemstone/Magician Hybrid.

 **Gemstone Ability:** As an unexpected newer member of Miss Baker's forces, his ability is poorly understood. According to updates from front line forces he seems to have enhanced sensory perception, leading to apparent pre-cognition in combat. However, the journal appears to contradict evidence; apparently his power is visual in nature but attacks from blind spots are ineffective. These traits, combined with his peak-human physique and skill in battle, make him a dangerous foe to underestimate. For now we name his ability "Flying General" and rank it as Level 3. It might be higher considering his potential, but from what is known now it is only made deadly through his other skills.

 **Magical Skills:** Lu Bu is a curious case. Recorded history is clear enough on his life that we know he performed no great feats of Magic. Though displaying a simple "Hammer-space" spell with relative proficiency in the modern day, we have no further verifiable information.

 **Conclusion:** Containing Lu Bu is likely as simple as that: containment. Direct combat that leaves any sort of room for him to counter is pointless: Necessarius agents should prepare large scale traps that make even the slightest possibility of escape by physical means fruitless. Failing that, appealing to his ego would likely be the most lucrative path. It seems to be an easy target, should the story in the dream prove accurate. We assume now that, whether or not the journal entries are truthful, the current iteration of each summon correlates to what is described within.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 16:** 诞 [12] **(Birth, Brag)**

Date: May 24th

 _On the day he discovered his powers, he knew he could earn respect._

The dream begins on the side of a mountain. Or at least a tall and broad hill, stretching with dozens like it to overlook a thin river-carved valley, dotted with small homes upon what look like rice farms. The exposed stone is a sandy colour, and windblown dust scours the earth clean. It seems to be a dry, dry spring, from the few flowers and shoots that have begun to sprout alongside the thin patches of dying grass.

None of this interests a cadre of young boys who scuffle on the mount's level plateau. There are more than twenty of them, throwing each other about in pairs, shouting with wild abandon. They are so disorganized that only belatedly I realize they are supposed to be training.

One hits the ground harder than most. A small boy, tiny compared to the others, tumbles bodily through the dust into another pair of youth, knocking them all off-balance. As they collapse into a pile, the older boy who threw him laughs obnoxiously, though his chest heaves from exertion.

"Look! Look how he rolls!" He tries to draw the attention of the others to join in his mockery, but he need not have bothered; all eyes have turned their way. "They could make a game of this!"

"G-gah..." The small boy, hardly more than a preschooler, stands up again, but his face is twisted in malice. "Again, you toad. I will beat you yet."

"Again? Give it up. You have never won, and you never will."

"Again."

The bigger boy's smile fades. I watch as he scans the crowd. I sense they have turned; mild amusement at his antics have instead shifted to concern and annoyance.

"Knock it off, you bully. We're all trying to practice here."

"Seriously, no one's impressed."

"Yeah, and take it easy on the little guy, he's just-"

"LITTLE!?" The small child's volume is impressive, and all present flinch at his outburst. "Do not insult me! I am older than you all, I can take it! Unless you want to challenge Lu Bu!?"

There is an awkward silence: I realize I am waiting for someone to contradict him. But all the larger children fall quiet, shuffling their feet. Eventually the initial trouble maker groans and shakes his head.

"You are such a mad dog! You haven't even come close to beating any of us, you-"

"You are the dog among us. Come prove otherwise."

"Fine, you little-"

The two clash again. But this time, there is not attempt at careful grappling, no balanced stances. This is a brawl. And though the scrappy small youth puts up a glorious effort, he lacks the reach. He is quickly overpowered and locked in a sloppy arm bar, face pressed against the dirt.

"Give it up!"

"NEVER-AGH!" His arm is twisted brutally, but despite the pain anger never leaves Lu Bu's face. This goes on for several seconds, long enough for both I and the onlookers to feel awkward. A few begin to take the first hesitant steps to intervene.

"Enough."

The two boys fly apart.

They and all the other fighters scramble to attention, taking not quite military poses. They stand upright for an old man, who by contrast is impossibly stooped. But he walks confidently among them, stepping out quietly from a shaded path. The training youth part for him like reeds for a wading fisherman as he strides purposely towards Lu Bu and his assailant

He eyes them a moment. Neither quite quails, but by the shuffling of their feet both are quite aware of his scrutiny.

"Boys." All jump when he speaks. "Return home. Practice today will be preparating for the summer monsoons. Return next week."

The youth scatter. All but two.

When they are alone, the older boy opens his mouth.

"Sen-"

"Do you not think I was watching?" The old man's quiet interruption drains the blood from his face. "Go home to you father and tell him what you did. Or I will."

There is only a second's hesitation before he shoots off like an arrow, sprinting down the mountainside. I watch Lu Bu's face flash with jealousy a moment before his eyes return to his teacher. But instead of speaking he merely stands there as their cool gazes meet.

"...Defiant as always. Your pride wounds you more than any foe."

"I will not bend for the likes of them. I will be strong."

"You will if you give yourself the chance. Be like the river, child. Pliable, but inexorable. Not the mountain, that is be ground down by the winds and rains."

"Thank you for the lesson, sensei."

The old man sighs, hearing the insincerity perhaps even more clearly than I do. "Go home. Your mother waits."

Lu Bu obeys. He is soon running down the mountainside away from his sensei, sprinting towards home. But I see now he does not go towards the small cluster of houses below, following the others; he cuts around the hill and continues above them, following a winding path. It goes from mostly overgrown to completely overrun, but he speeds along it like it is his own backyard.

And it might very well be, for he soon comes upon a storied manse. If it is his home, it is larger, grander, than those below. Not quite lordly, but clearly sound and of substantial wealth. But it has seen better days. Trees and bushes encroach on all sides, embracing it into the wild, but enough stands clear that its front entrance is visible.

There upon a simple porch stands a woman. She looks tired, and wears a fine but simple robe.

"Child of mine." She sighs. "You have been fighting again."

"Yes, mother, I train to protect our family name! Every day I grow stronger, and soon-"

"I did not say training, boy. I said fighting."

"H-how!? How could you have already..." He observes her weary smile for a moment. "Aah! I see, you just tricked me into admitting it!"

"You are an open book to me, child. Now come inside."

I suspect this home at one point was staffed by at least a few servants, but now it is depressingly empty. There is a grand sunken table, but it is covered in dusty cloth: the two sit instead on the floor next to it, cradling bowls of rice. They eat in silence for a spell before the boy speaks.

"Why do the others not show us respect?" He manages to be calm for only a sentence; he snarls as lets his bowl clatter on the floor. "We are an important family! We helped build this village! We are above them, yet they do not respect me!"

With infinite patience his mother retrieves his bowl. "You know this story, child."

"Tell me again."

"...Once, we were leaders here. But we lost our wealth, and so too our privilege. We have no way to host celebrations, to provide for armed protection for traders on the roads, so the village suffers. You know they blame us for the changing times, but we should not blame them. We must just work harder to serve the people, and bring back prosperity. Then they will respect us again."

"They ought to respect us now."

She sighs; this is clearly a tired argument. "I need to clean. Go outside and clear more of the bramble from your window, or it will come into your room again."  
He grumbles, but obeys. A short journey through the house takes him to the back way, even more overgrown than the front. With nothing but his bare hands he rips at the growth, scowling and ignoring the pain.

Eventually it grows too much for the boy. He moans, curses; kicks at the wall before leaning his back against it. Crossing his arms he pouts and gazes into the forest.

Within a minute, an adorable bunny pops out from the brush. It flicks its little nose his way, sniffing the air cutely as it hops into a small cleared field. Left, right, left again, as it sniff the ground for something tasty to eat.

"Even watching an old rabbit is better than bramble." I refocus back on Lu Bu: he still leans against the house, but has a rock in his hand. I grow aghast as he slowly winds back to hurl it, but he pauses.

"No... That is an old and boring game." He lets it fall, and the rabbit takes a single leap back. I am afraid it will run, but it is hungrier than scared. As the seconds draw on, it comes back in, snuffling the ground. It's takes little hops, seemingly at random.

"A game, huh..." The dream forces me back to the boy. "How about I guess your next move, little rabbit? The old man is always telling me to watch my enemies."

Though I shudder to think of the bunny as an enemy, I am forced to observe the boy's careful scrutiny. His eyes narrow. The bunny's whisker's twitch in kind.

"Left."

The bunny stays still, then shuffles backwards.

"...Left again."

Right this time, in a full circle.  
"LEFT."

It half-turns left, and the boy tenses. Until the bunny closes it's eyes and takes a cute little nap.

"AGH!" It leaps away as the boy shouts, back towards the edge of the clearing. "Stupid rabbit!"

As both calm their nerves, I have the chance to observe the boy more closely. I am still somewhat in shock that he was older than the other children upon the hill; he looks hardly more than seven or eight, whether you judge by his diminutive height or the thinness of his limbs. Yet he speaks boldly, stands proudly, and has an impressive energy in his motion. Even leaning against the wall I can feel a certain coiled energy in his bearing.

For the first time since I've watched him, he doesn't seem angry. He is merely watchful. Intent.

"...You are hungry, aren't you? Well, there isn't much food here, stupid rabbit." It has resumed its efforts, hopping back into the clearing. "Still going to look, huh? I just overturned that patch, so maybe you'll find something."

Lu Bu turns back to the brambles. They are soon cleared, and he carries the bundle of dying plant over to the field. He steps across it, dumping it into a large pile, but as he begins to return inside he pauses, looking down.

"Seriously? I am right behind you." The bunny is mere inches from his feet, happy munching on a tuber. Rolling his eyes, the boy almost steps over it. But he pauses, growing pensive. "...Say... Now this might make for a game." He leans down, and pokes it on the back of the head.

Terrified the bunny leaps. But after hopping a few feet away and spinning back, nose twitching furiously, there is nothing there. No threat, no predator. It slowly begins to calm down.

A finger again taps its head. The bunny leaps anew, but once again, sees nothing. I realize I too don't know where the boy is, until the dream's perspective shifts.

I see Lu Bu behind it again, fighting to restrain his amusement. I realize that he has managed to stay out of its sight in an impressive if cruel display of agility. He leans down and flicks it on the head, but leaps straight up a moment after.

In full panic, the bunny tears around in a circle. It looks every which way, but sees nothing. It does not notice the scattered leaves falling around it.

The dream forces my gaze up, where I see the boy hanging from a low branch. He silently drops, both feet on either side of the now paralyzed rabbit, and he hoists it up by the sides.

"Gotcha! Now, run away, flee from Lu Bu !" He gives it a light toss and it scampers into the brush. "Hah... Well, that was fun! You are only somewhat more stupid than the other boys..."

Basking in satisfaction, he begins to return inside. Yet something strikes him odd.

He turns back to the underbrush. The bunny is there.

"You are going to come back? Really?"

It hops into the clearing.

"No, no, you've already checked that spot, you..."

The bunny noses the ground as Lu Bu watches. The boy slowly closes his mouth, tilting his head. Something changes in his expression.

"...Right. Then forward, then right again."

It obeys. Or perhaps it follows his prediction. As it rests on its laurels happily munching at a chose morsel, Lu Bu blinks.

"...I was right?"

No one is more surprised than the boy. For its part, the bunny does not care, and I perhaps see what this revelation mean. I don't quite know what power this would entail, but I suspect this boy has discovered something similar to the other.

"O-of course I was right!" I do not know if he realizes as much. "Say! This means I have grown more skilled! Perhaps this what the old man meant when he said I should commune with nature... Eh?"

He looks down. The bunny is nuzzling against his foot.

"Huh. Weird." Not so much scared as disturbed, he pulls away. He withdraws inside, but before he can pull shut the flimsy door the bunny squeaks through a gap. "W-what? Hey, stop! Vermin!"

"Oh!" He chases it into the kitchen, where it halts beside him in the doorway. His mother stands by the counter, a dull looking copper cleaver in her hand. "Why is that inside the house? Is there another hole in the door?"

"No, it just followed me after I finished with the-!?"

There is a meaty thunk, a soft squeal, and a shocked expression the boy. No matter what the dream demands, I will not look down I will not.

"Well! That's dinner tomorrow."

"...R-right." I am beyond grateful as the boy leaves, backing away before heading upstairs.

I get the sense that time has passed. It is almost a blink for me, but I see the boy returning again down the stairs in different clothes. He sprints back out the front door, and I see it is morning as he journeys back up to the mountain top. There are the other boys, already training, and I see Lu Bu run among them with a determined grin.

"Right! Spar with me, someone! I want to try something out!" He searches eagerly, but the others shuffle away. His grin fades as he discovers he is being ignored. "Hey! Fight me, you peasants!"

Whether it was fear of their teacher, or simply awkwardness, he gets no takers; the others pair off quickly and lose themselves in their tossing.

"Cowards, all of you! Who has the guts to..." Lu Bu turns, and seconds later the older boy from before crests the ridge, also arriving late to training. "Ahah! For once, I actually want to see your ugly mug."

"Oh? I didn't know you enjoyed being rolled around that much."

"We'll see, toad. Now, fight me!"

"Don't see the old man this time..." After taking a quick look around the field, the taller boy smile grimly. "Sure. I'll make this quick."

They quickly meet.

In a flash of movement, a boy is sent tumbling along the dirt. The crowd of other boys give it little thought, but a few paying more close attention pause.

They and I both see it is the larger boy who has been tossed. He is in a crouched, a bemused expression on his face. He forces a jocular smile as he stands, stretching."W-whoa? Did I trip? That was careless, I might have hurt the little-"

"Hah! You lost, you lost!" The tiny victor rubs at his nose, chortling to himself. "It does work! Lu Bu is victorious!"

"T-that was a fluke, we all know it!" The bigger boy dusts himself off, feeling the weight of several gazes on his back. "Try that again."

"With pleasure, toad."

They clash once more.

Again the impossible feat: this time the loser is flipped so hard he lands dramatically on his back. Now the other boys can not ignore the spectacle, and they murmur as he struggles to stand.

"D-damn it! What are you doing!? You're cheating, you're-It's like you're already where I'm going to be!"

"Then don't be so obvious, toad. Unless you enjoy losing to me, now that you've had a taste of it."

Snarling with rage, the distance between them closes again and again. But each time Lu Bu dances from danger, handily dodging and grappling and throwing his opponent away.

"This is getting boring! Come on, peasants, try to fight me! I want a challenge!" He boasts to the others, raising their ire. A handful of even larger youth step up to the plate. They too strike out, one at a time.

"Come, come together! Unless you are scared of 'little' Lu Bu!?"

More joined in, incensed at his taunting. Their numbers mean little; the boy tosses them all, pushing allies into each other, springing from shoulder to tuck into perfectly executed flips and rolls. And all the while he is taunting, boasting, drawing in a larger brawl.

Soon the majority are exhausted, covered in dust and bruises. They cannot even stand for their sensei's return.

He steps quickly into the clearing, confused and alert. "What is the meaning of this?" He sees Lu BU standing alone, breathing heavy but grinning ear to ear, ringed by hesitant losers. "...How did you do this? What changed? You are world's different, now."

"I'm just watching them! It's so easy now, sensei, you were right! I couldn't believe it! I just communed with nature, and now it's easy!"

His eager honesty gives the old man pause. I watch him search Lu Bus face for deception. "...Remarkable."

"Sensei!" The bully returns to view from wherever he was hiding, tugging at the old man's sleeve. "That's not possible! There's no way he could beat all of us, not so quickly! He's cheating, o-or consorting with ill spirits! His family is cursed, just like-"

"Enough." The master pulls away, forging silence by his utter contempt. "This is nothing unearthly. I have seen other warriors, greater than I, perform greater feats still. He has merely... Discovered something. Some hidden talent. You should all be impressed; this is the result of hard work and determination. Not one of you has tried so hard as Lu Bu. Now, return to your practice."

"Not before he admits he lost!" Lu Bu stands firms, ripping attention back to him as he pounds his chest. "Him and all the rest!"

"You didn't win, you just-"

"Yes I did! Admit-"

"Enough. Go home, all of you."

The boys scatter at his iron word.

All but one.

"I said go home."

"...But he would not yield! I was the winner this time, and each time before he made me say it! YOU made me say it! You said that as warriors we have to acknowledge our defeats as well as our victories!" The young boy finger waves furiously at the old man.

Who merely raises an eyebrow. "That is the right lesson. At the wrong time. You find moderation in nothing. Either you lose with all the grace of a landslide, or you win..." He pauses. "...With similar grace. You must find balance, child, or it will ruin you."

"Balance!? I want to win! I want respect! And I'm no child, I'm 16!"

There is an uncomfortable silence. I do not believe it. From the look on the old man's face, neither does he.

"...Then you must act like it more. You are becoming old enough, and are clearly becoming skilled enough to defend this village from brigands. You must grow to become-"

"Grow!? What're you-"

"Quiet." With effort, the boy holds his tongue. Masking a smile, the older man continues. "You are all young. Give it time. Maturity and respect will come hand in hand."

"But it's not fair they treat me like that! And just me! I am older than them, but they-"

"You forget yourself." The old man's voice is cold steel. I find myself flinching, or at least wanting to. Lu Bu's expression is locked forward. "I am not your wet-nurse."

"...Yes sensei."

"You must learn to hold your temper. And your tongue. You make many enemies, and few friends." The man walks away, a surprisingly pronounced limp slowly his departure. "If you want their respect, become worthy of it. You will have it." He approaches the lip of the mountain, and passes over the edge.

The boy stands quietly were he was. I realize now that his expression has not changed. Not a flicker passes as he ponders; I realize he was not intimidated like the others boys. He was not even startled like I was.

He is thinking.

"...Worthy of it. What would make..."

He purses his lips.

"Mother said my forefathers fought in the wars, and earned their fortune..."

He nods.

"Then that is what I will do. There must be a war to fight, somewhere."

I watch with disbelief as he strides away. But not down the mountain, towards home or the rice fields, or even following his teacher. Instead he steps out onto an open road, little used, but winding far into the distance. He carries nothing but his clothes, yet does not slow even an instant as he sets out along it.

"If not, I shall make one. No one shall stop me."

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~~!

It has been a while. I can't believe I am ready to apologize to my journal for neglect.

Shows how much I have lost, doesn't it?

I was told I was precocious, as a youth. I wonder if I truly knew the definition until now. This child is something stranger indeed.

I will write more tomorrow. For now I must move. They might still be following me.

I did like the bunny, though.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 17:** 盟 **(Alliance, Union)**

Date: May 28th

The dream begins in a pleasant glen. Tall trees sparsely shadow a walking path from one side, upon which a man leads a tall and proud stallion. He wears the simplest of woven robes, made of coarse cloth, and keeps a respectful distance away from the animal's chomping bit. Though bridled, the beast is unruly, kicking and snorting and fighting him every inch of the way. The traveller sighs but after much struggle rounds a bend in the path.

He halts when we both see a shadowy figure, half sitting, half leaning against a tall tree by the road side. The traveller darts back behind the horse to hide, indecision writ large on his face.

"Perhaps I should... They'll understand if go back, they must... But..." The horse whinnies and kicks, but despite the noise no challenging shout is issued his way. "...A brigand would have attacked me by now..."

The shadowy shape snores and stretches. Working up the courage to peak out, the traveller rewarded.

"Oh. It's just a youth." Walking less carefully now, he leads his stubborn horse along the path. He stops when he draws abreast the figure, coughing politely. "Ah. Excuse me, friend?"

The shape stirs. "Eh?"

"Excuse me, but you would happen to know how far it is to Jinyang? The Provincial capital?"

"No. I'm just taking a nap."

"Oh." Not the response he was expecting, the traveller simply shakes his head. "Very well. But be careful, there are robbers and thieves in these parts."

"S'what I'm hoping for. Now go away, I'm resting."

"Oh. All right." The traveller pulls away. "Goodness. What a rude child."

He continues down the pleasant path, but halts when he sees a small dust cloud gathering ahead. He pulls off to the side of the thin path out of politeness, but his face pales when he sees the malicious expressions of the rough looking men that approach on horseback.

There is no time for him to fix his mistake before they are upon him, circling tightly. Only three are mounted, having rushed ahead of the pack of remaining footmen. But they are clearly no regimented forces, though all wear a turban of bright yellow upon their head.

The traveller realizes this as well. "Please! Spare me! I have nothing, I-"

"Nothing?" The head of the ragged pack interrupts, ripping the thin lead from the travellers hand. "What about this horse then?"

"This!? No, this is for the Inspector of Bing Province, his prize stallion! A heavy price will be on your head! Besides, it is wild and unruly, it can not be ridden: it's meant to be a stud, it's of no use to either you or I!"

"I can break it. It'll be a fine replacement for this old mare." The bandit leader stands upon his own animals back as his men cheer, and he jumps to his new mount.

He is promptly thrown clear. He lands in a painful lump, struggling upright as his men carefully mask their amusement.

"Gah! Stupid horse!" He raises a short sword, aiming to strike with the flat of this blade. "I'll convince you not to try that-"

"Hey."

The word is quietly spoken. But it's very calmness draws attention to it; it quickly quietens the bandits, and they all eventually turned back down the path, looking over the shoulder of the stupefied traveller.

There stands the boy from the first dream, stepping out from the shade. Or rather, the man. Though only the thin beard on his chin would give that away: he remains as diminutive as ever. But his arms are more wiry, densely muscled, and he wears a simple spear slung on his back. In his hands is a short bow, unstrung, with an accompanying quiver at his hip. He stares at them all levelly.

"I was trying to sleep. Shut up."

"...What the hell are you?" The bandits are all confused, but only their leader expresses as much. "Are you a man or a child? Or some sort of fre-"

The arrow is in his throat faster than anyone can blink. He gurgles blood around its tip before he crumples.

"And there goes my goodwill." Lu Bu unstrings his bow with indifference, obvious to the feat of incredible speed he accomplished to tie and draw it so fast. Instead he swaps it out with his spear, letting the tip rest lazily in the dirt. "You're all dead unless you start running."

The bandits pause, but eventually rally. They pull free spears of their own, or simple swords and axes, and charge as one.

All fall quickly. The few remaining from the first assault scatter, fleeing wherever they can. With a deft twirl Lu Bu flings the blood from his weapon, tying it around his shoulder as he shrugs.

"And leave the horse alone. Toads."

"Y-you... You saved me? Oh, thank you, thank you! I am forever in your... U-uhm...?"

The traveller is on hands and knees, but only belatedly realizes he is being ignored. Instead, Lu Bu has approached the horse, holding one hand outstretched. He grins, and pulls back just as the mount nips at his fingers.

"Whoa, there. Feisty one, aren't you." He rubs his chin a moment. "...What's its name?"  
The traveller is perplexed. "T-that... Is Red Hare. I am delivering him to my employer."

"I like him. My kind of horse." Lu Bu gives the creature a stiff pat on the back, then pulls away as the teeth miss his neck by a hairbreadth. Ignoring the close shave, he looks down at the leader's corpse. "Oh, so you are the brigands I was hunting. Good. Convenient."

"H-hunting? You were on... Are you patrolling? You don't look like a guardsm-Erk!?" The traveller is hoisted by his robe to his feet, stunned immobile as Lu Bu vigorously knocks the dust from his back.

"I'm not. Yet. Now, you come with me." As he speaks, the small man tosses the body up onto the horses back, lashing it fast with a thin twin before the beast can react. "I need a witness this time."

Swept up by the tide, the traveller follows, only at the last second remembering to lead along his charge. "Ah? Pardon me? How so?"

"No one believed me the last three times. You saw: they have to hire me now."

They travel along the path a good ways. In the distance a small city emerges, nestled in the hillside along a broad, lazy river. Most of the forest has been cleared around it, so it sits upon a man-made plain, good stone walls and thick wooden gates guarding against siege.

One such set of gates the two men and horse approach. They are open currently as traders camped outside go in and out, but a pair of guards eye the newcomers with suspicion. Eventually recognition twigs.

"...Oh, you again? And who're you with?"

"Let me in. I have the bandit leader."

"Fine. Collect your reward, if you can."

They part, and Lu Bu strides between them. But when the traveller follows, he is caught short.

"Wait! That's Red Hare!?"

"Hmm? O-oh, yes!" The traveller abruptly nods, remembering his mission. "Yes, we were accosted, but I was saved by..." He looks to the short man's back, struggling for a name. "...Him. And, uhm, I have come as ordered, despite the dangers."

The guards look to each other. "Go get the captain. He'll want to see this."

In short order, the gateway has become a stage. Lu Bu stands on one side of Red Hare, the traveller the other. The latter speaks to an elderly man, an apparent noble of middling rank, while the former watches as a guard captain scans the face of the body.

"...Well?"

"...All right, I'll give it to you. That's him. But you might have just found him like that, maybe his crew turned on him. I still don't think-"

"Ahah! Shut up. This time, I've got a witness. Wait." While the guard captain sputtered, Lu Bu made his way around the horse. "I'm borrowing him." That curt explanation aside, the traveller is dragged from his employer, blinking confusedly before being thrust before the guard. "Tell him what happened."

"A-ah!? E-eh!? O-oh!" Fumbling at his waist cord, the traveller straightens his spine. "Uhm, yes, it's true; this man defeated this bandit. And all his men, single handedly. It was actually quite incredible, now that I-" His face is replaced by Lu Bu's, leaning into the guard captain.

"See? Now hire me."

Before the man can respond, the noble totters over. A thick, greying beard drapes long over his fine silken robes as he bows as deeply as he must be able. "You are the one who saved my horse? I give you thanks! He is one of my great treasures."  
The small man shrugs, indifferent. "If you must. Wasn't my plan."

"Still, I must reward you. What is it you seek."

"Fame and glory." Lu Bu pauses. "And right now, employment."

"I will do what I can. But first, I must see to my impossible stallion, that he is unharmed."

The noble has begun to wander away, but Lu Bu interjects. "Impossible? How's that?"

"Hmmm? Oh, merely that he cannot be ridden. Too wild, too proud."

"Oh, he's not that tough. It's just a horse: even I could ride him."

"You may be a great warrior, but few can even approach Red Hare. My sons all failed, and all the men I hired. He is too wild, but may yet breed a more docile colt... Oh, careful!" The noble raises his hand as Lu Bu approach the horse, but it is for nothing.

"Nothing wrong with this one." The small man slaps it on the haunch, casually avoiding the angry nip in response. "Just gotta hang on until he knows he's done."

"I have wanted to see him broken for nearly a year now... I will give him to you, should your boast be true." The assembled audience breaks into a murmuring susurrus, but the noble merely shrugs. "It would be small payment for the pleasure."

"Really?" Grinning, Lu Bu steps back, dropping his spear. "All right. Free horse."

With a short run up and a graceful hop, he is upon its back.

The horse erupts, violently rearing. His rider leans forward, easily grasping it round the neck. They spin together, a maelstrom growing more violent by the second. They whirl and whirl, kicking of a cloud amidst the sound of angry snorting, pounding hooves, and cheerful laughter. It goes on and on, the audience mesmerized.

It is minutes before the sounds cease. The dust settles. Red Hare, mouth foaming and covered in a sheen of sweat, stands statue-like beneath the grinning Lu Bu.

"There. But I will say, that was more work out than the bandits! I like this horse."

The crowd is impressed, but the noble is simply astonished. He pulls on his beard as he pulls himself together. "...My son, you are just as much a treasure as Red Hare. Please, consent to working for me?"

"Working? What kind of work? Wait." Lu Bu raises his hand rudely. "You are an important man?"  
"I am Ding Yuan. I have just been appointed Calvary Commandant by the imperial court, and I am in need of a Registrar. It is a mostly ceremonial position, but-"

"Will there be fighting?"

"A-ah..." Momentarily nonplussed, Ding Yuan eventually answers. "Yes, there will always be bandits to pacify. And there is talk of armed rebellion in the north east... I can predict fighting will erupt soon."

"...Then certainly! Let us ride for the capital tomorrow! Ahaahaa!"

The crowd cheers awkwardly, unsure of their place in this drama. They cheer louder when Ding Yuan announces a feast, to celebrate the defeat of the bandits. Food is brought out, several roasts are prepared, and celebration begins.

Suddenly it is dusk. Lu Bu sits alone on an overturned barrel, caught in the flickering firelight of a distant pit, wine skin trailing from his fingers. He chuckles to himself as he drinks, wiping the stain from his lips with each swig. A figure approaches.

"I am glad you have found what you wanted, my saviour."

"Eh?" Lu Bu hardly glances at the traveller he rescued, but the man takes no offence.

"You were looking for fame, were you not? Our shared Lord is a Commandant of Calvary: we will be travelling together, now." The traveller sits on the hard packed earth beside Lu Bu. "Perhaps it is fate."

For a minute, the small man eyes his neighbour. The traveller is taller sitting on the ground than he is on the barrel. I suspect Lu Bu realizes this, but before he can grow ire the traveller continues.

"I am not just a simple hand-servant; I was once a monk, you know. I can teach you somethings, in return for saving my life.

"...Not interested." Lu Bu takes another drink.

"Please! I want to do something to show my gratitude!"

"All right, fine, if makes you shut up. I'll at least let you explain."

"Great! One thing I can show you is how..." He holds out his hand, and flicks his wrist in a peculiar way. For an instant, I see a tiny flicker of light. Lu Bu must as well, for suddenly his attention is transfixed. "To do this."

The fingers snap: the light expands.

In the travellers hands is a full wine skin; it becomes a little less full as the man takes a long drink. "Well? Impressed?" He chortles, amused at his audacity. "It is an old Buddhist spell, actually very simple. My old teachers would be distraught at me using it to drink, but I've left all that behind, for... U-uhm..."

We both notice a persistent sound. To his left, Lu Bu is snapping his fingers, intensely focused.

"Huh. Didn't work for me." Lu Bu looks sharply at the traveller. "I think it's busted."

"I-it's more than just the movement, sir. You need to have a proper understanding of... And the principle of... Ah, please, allow me to show you?"

Lu Bu looks at his hands. Then the travellers.

"...Sure. Why not."

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

After several close calls, I think I am safe for now.

Ireland is a strange place. Then again, England itself was a strange place, once I actually was forced to explore it. It's all strange. I wish I knew more what I was getting into. I feel so naked.

This is far from home, but I feel the need to go further still. I am certain they are still looking for me. Perhaps America: a traditional refuge for those fleeing the isles. At least they will speak my language, from what I can determine: whatever these Irish folk may claim they are not speaking any English I can understand.

But for now, I return to the dreams. The original purpose of this whole journal. This one was uneventful; more details of a strange little man's life. I can find nothing of him yet, but it is a distant secondary concern. I'll be honest, I hardly looked. I begin to not care very much. He is sixth in the procession, I think, with how many more to come? I can hardly believe something that can be so mundane drove me to this point.

But still there is the First...

I should save some page space for the papers I stole before I left. I want to get my thoughts down in writing, lest I forget about them. Specifically, about the prophecy. My family's prophecy.

It turns out my family has been working on deciphering my ancestor's initial words since he left them in a fit of inspiration. It seems to be important to the cabal as a group, but I don't understand why. From what I can see it is supposedly incomplete, so I can only assume they hoped to finish it someday. But is this the only copy? Does it have some latent magical potential specific to this paper? Are the lines of the poem I write afterwards some echo of his own prophecy, or something new and different? I have no answers.

I must find someone who does.

Regardless, for now I am at an impasse. The words mean little to me as they are, and I can hardly hope they ever will. I will hold on to them, though, if only to spite my pursuers.

Since when have I grown so petty?

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 18:** 诛 **(Death, Execution)**

Date: June 6th

The dream begins in a dark and desperate cellar. Torches alight the walls, but the chamber is broad enough that they do not quite reach the middle of the room. Something large is there, a dark cobweb caught between several lines of guards, their shadows flickering in the fire-light.

Eventually footsteps echo from above. A heavy clang, and then another set of torches pierce the distant darkness. A group descends several steps to the level ground, approaching the shape. As they do light finally reveals the strange fixture.

I see now the threads of the web from before are thick chains: they are bound to a thick iron collar, their ends held in the hands of the impassive guards. The collar is around the neck of a small man.

His hands are shackled to each other as he kneels, hardly breathing. His hear is tied back in a tight bun, but his appearance is otherwise dishevelled, beard unruly and poor clothes covered in dirt. In contrast, most of the several men approaching him are dressed in the finest robes, their colourful silk out of place in the dungeon.

"Caught like the drunk fool you are." Their leader speaks as he strokes his thin black beard. "What ever happened to the Flying General? Lying in the mud in a night of debauchery. How you stalled us at Hu Lao Gate, I will never know."

The man jeers, and his colleagues colourlessly chuckle.

Lu Bu does not move.

"Well? Run out of arrogant words?"

Still, Lu Bu does not move.

"...Wake up!"

"Snr... Ehm?" Finally he stirs, stretching. The guards pull hard on their chains, but he does not seem to notice their efforts as he groggily awakes. "Erg. What an uncomfortable naps. Treat your guests better, Cao Cao, or you might regret it."

"Insolent worm. Are you so deluded you do not realize? You are in my dungeon! I have power over your life."

"...It is no matter." The small man shrugs; the chains tighten. "Lu Bu will not be beaten. This is just a challenge."

"You really think you can escape?"  
"You really think you can kill the great Lu Bu?" He chuckles. "Escape, survive, win, it's all the same. You know what that's about, don't you?" For the first time he meets the eyes of his captor. "You need men like me, Cao Cao. Men who can fight and win. If you want to pursue your own desires, you need me."

"So proud."

"It is as I said, my Lord." Another lord speaks up, his face filled with haughty disdain. "He must be put down, like a wild animal. For China's sake, if nothing else, for he is simply too chaotic to control."

"I had hoped to turn him, Liu Bei. I know his skill." Cao Cao gazes mildly at his captive. "But I have been convinced there is wisdom in your words. You have betrayed and deceived your way to power for the last time: here you die, Lu Bu!"

He gestures; a member of his entourage steps forward. This one is not so finely dressed; instead he wears stained leathers. As he hefts a large axe, I realize what the stains are from. He strides towards Lu Bu as the nobles step back, standing at the kneeling warriors side.

"...Oh?" Lu Bu raises his eyebrow. "This is who you send, is it?"

He says no more as the axe is raised.

It falls.

And as it falls, Lu Bu sets to work.

He tugs his head one way, and then another, many times in quick succession. Little jerks, hardly anything, but each is enough to alert the guards. They tense, each prepared to resist.

And then he spins.

The axe blade misses the mark, striking and shattering a pair of chains. The first shouts of surprise erupt as Lu Bu has pulls another way. He can hardly be stronger than any of the guards, let alone all of them together, but he somehow defies expectations, and the chains slide from startled grasps.

They regather them quickly, but Lu Bu has gained the slack he needs.

The flickering torchlight makes the chaos hard to follow. Chains rattles and clank as they strike armour and flesh, improvised weapons as the small warrior becomes a whirling dervish. The guards crowd in with weapons drawn, but are unable to land a blow on anything but ally. Soon several have fallen as Lu Bu dances his dance of death. The few lights near the centre go out as the torches fall from lifeless hands.

The chains still for a moment. The nobles have escaped to the walls, horrified as they notice the rattling sounds escaping fast. But one, their leader, smirks through his surprise.

Lu Bu ascends, running up several flights silhouetted by sunlight. He comes to a huge iron gate, which is proudly slams with his foot.

It rattles. But does nothing more.

He strikes it again. And once more. It refuses to budge.

"...Locked?"

"Guards! He is cornered!" Cao Cao's voice carries up from below. "Don't fight him, just tire him out!"  
"...Damn it. What a pain,"

In short order, he has surrendered. Lu Bu is dragged back down to the executing grounds; I see now channels for his blood to run, as the guards bind him even more brutally than before. His ankles are as tightly bound as his wrists, and he is forced to lay upon the floor.

And still, Lu Bu boasts.

"You cheated. I didn't think a coward like you would lock yourself in here with me. Where's the key?"

The noble stares down at his worm-like prisoner. "I am not likely to tell you."

Lu Bu does his best to shrug. "S'fine. Next time I'll just beat it out of you. Or kill you."

"Your arrogance is truly unbelievable. Executioner, do it fast this time."

The leather-clad headsman jogs over, taking aim and quickly swings.

Perhaps too quickly; the axe strikes stone, showering sparks. A few hairs from the top of Lu Bu's head are severed, but nothing more as he scrunches up. In an amazing feet of nonchalant acrobatic, he flips into the air. The guards watch in awe as he tumbles overhead, landing with perfect balance on his feet behind them, against the dungeon's deepest wall.

"Well?" He does not wobble as they scatter to confront him, ringing him in a broad, cautious semi-circle. "Who's first to entertain me?"

No one approaches.

"I knew I should have brought some bowmen..." Cao Cao pushes between his soldier, undaunted. "Give it up, your cretin. You can bruise like that at worst, but no more. And you will tire far faster than us. You can not hope-"

"Hope is for fools and cowards." Lu Bu grin, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. "I merely fight."

The battle is long. It nearly sours for the defenders when an axe blow carefully diverted nearly lets Lu Bu free. But though several more fall, in the end the prisoner is restrained.

"Damn it... I tire of this." Chains now encircle Lu Bu's entire body, legs and arms and all, a misshapen mockery of a cocoon. "I was hoping for something with a little more killing."

"Did you think it would be fun, getting yourself caught?" Cao Cao leans close. He ignores the way the chains rattle, though his guards flinch. "You know, my scouts could hardly believe that you, the greatest warrior of our age, would meekly surrender when wandering into them. There you stood in the darkness, half drunk and completely stupid; they were forced to tie you blind. But did you really let things get this far for fun?"

"Nah." Lu Bu cannot see his captors face, but he still grins. "I did it because I was bored."

Suddenly he is rolled over, face up. He is surprised for a second, but then grins cheekily up at Cao Cao. The imperious man strokes his beard again.

"By they way, the key was never in here, you idiot. It's locked from the outside."

"Eh?"

"My voice alone opens this door. If you kill me, you die too. Just slower, and hungry. Guards, gather the lights. Bring them close."

Lu Bu is silent as Cao Cao straightens. He motions to the guards, and they slowly obey: the torches are soon bundled all around the captive, illuminating their faces and little else.

"You were dead the moment you were carried here... No. The moment you stumbled drunk into White Gate Tower, taunting me and my prison."

But still Lu Bu smiles.

"You know, I can still get out of this. I can get loose, defeat all your men, and then hurt you til you cry for freedom. There's a way out. There always is. I can see it."

Cao Cao nods. "Maybe so." He pulls from his robe a thick cloth, which deftly drapes over the first torch. "But only if you can see it."

The room begins to dim.

"...W-what are you doing?"

Darker and darker, each torch is extinguished.

"Hey! HEY, ANSWER ME!"

The darkness is total. I can hear Lu Bu's breathing, his frenzied shuffling, like I am inside his skull.

"As I guessed. You have not practised fighting blind, have you? I see now the real reason you were captured at night. Headsman."

"Sire?"

"Kill him."

"S-sire, I cannot-"

"Just keep swinging. You will hit him eventually."

The axe swings.

It clangs into the stone. Lu Bu swears.

It wrenches free. Swings again; it strikes close this time.

"It is not like I am the only one who would betray you! Look to him, look to Liu Bei!" Lu Bu shouts, stalling the next blow. "He is just pursing his own glory, too! Why am I the one condemned!?"

"…You are right." In the darkness, Cao Cao grunts. "But I do not fear _him_."

"LIU BEI!" Lu Bu roars, flailing as best he can. "CAO CAO! YOU DIE! YOU WILL DIE!"

But there is nowhere to go.

And as he lay upon the ground, trapped in unseeing confusion, Lu Bu curses bitterly the power that he did not understand as it betrays, for denying him what he sought.

So Lu Bu dies.

But he does not end. Not completely.

I fall with him into the pit of reality, the grim end of all: we hear the Voice. Or rather, we Feel It's Presence. The First.

It offers the deal, the second chance.

What is left of Lu Bu concedes with little fanfare.

All for a second chance.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

Each time it feels like I die with them. I want this to stop.

But I wish for a great many things. Like more more time to plan, to prepare. At least I have decided to go to America; I assume the cabal will not follow me there so readily. Especially not if I leave hints that I seek the protection of a powerful magician.

I have chosen the best option I can find; he seems desperate enough to need help, but was apparently once a potent and familiar name in his land. Or so at least the 'newspaper' I have read says: the boy I bought it from said I could rely on its knowledge.

What a strange world it is outside. I just hope it is as simple to track him down as it was to steal tickets for this "Queen Mary The Second". I have been assured she is not monarchy, but some form of vessel.

But truly, I just hope this "Amazing Amazo" is as potent as his name indicates.

[Orsola's note: the same division of addendum follows as before.]

 **It is terrible and dread.**

 **Awoke from death, yet not dead.**

 **It calls in silence, and It brings a deal.**

 **It knows few and many things.**

 **It is nothing, yet still clings.**

 **It calls in silence; It offers a deal.**

On the Sixth Day of Christmas: The Courser charging

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes**_

[1] Sadly, there are almost no names I could find for individual types of First Nation songs, so I am forced to borrow European analogues. I'd rather these titles keep their symbolic theme, even if it means I lose a bit of cultural sensitivity. If, by some miracle, you can offer a better substitute, I'd be massively impressed and grateful. I do try to keep things historically accurate at least.

[2] Remember I said I tried to keep things historically accurate? I'm basing her culture of the Osage Nation, for those who might be familiar.

[3] Slavery in Native America prior to real contact with Europe is vastly different from what happened in Colonial America. Put simply, the most common slaves were house slaves, spoils of war from neighbouring communities. However, there were strict rules in most nations about how slaves could be treated, how long a slave could be kept, and how one could earn freedom. It was not really dramatically more moral than European version, but it was culturally not the same institution. It was less about race and superiority and wealth, and more about dominating rivals. In fact, some varieties of native slavery were almost more brutal, including ritual sacrifices and forced starvation, but in truth those were rare.

There is very little literature on Cahokian slavery, so I assume in this case it is an advanced form of what already existed regionally, as described above. Considering how surprisingly urbanized their culture was, slavery likely became more complex and government oriented, to suit the social needs of the larger population. Even then it was not likely common; slaves would be taken from distant communities and brought back to serve as menial labourers, but that would mostly likely be for only the powerful elites or for public works and construction that benefit the entire city or ruling religious caste. This is something of an assumption, but it makes sense given the context. A speculative history lesson, for the curious.

[4] With the absence of writing, First Nation cultures often ratified important agreements with beaded contracts. Certain colours, counts, and sizes of the beads on a woven scrap could equate to a treaty, an exchange of slaves, or even more mundane agreements. It wasn't common, though, and usually reserved for the more powerful members of society, either between each other or between leaders.

[5] Contrary to popular belief, most Native American cultures did not permanently live in tepees or similar structures. They were usually short term dwellings; cultures that roamed around after their food used them very often or exclusively, but most used other used tepees the way we used tents; a quick lean to that is liveable for however long you needed it to be. The latter is the case here; these are visitors. Also, the fur trade existed far before Europeans, though on a much smaller scale. Again, I imagine Cahokia would have a greater than average share, just being larger. Some historians think as much as 40000 people lived there at its height! Pretty crazy.

[6] I think I forgot to mention this before; this is Monk's Mound. It's an actual place; quite neat. Never been there, but I'd like to see it once.

[7] If you want to read up on the research that inspired this backstory, check out "Victims of Human Sacrifice at Cahokia Were Locals, Not 'Foreign' Captives, Study Finds" on WesternDigs. Look, I'm a historian, I cite my sources. It's not conclusive proof of anything, but it's an interesting study.

[8] The old woman's story is based off a Lakota creation myth, which is also the source of her religion and Magic. It also vaguely reflects the reality of Magic Gods in a subtle way, which I find fun. I won't go into detail on the historical side of things, but while it'd be unlikely there would be many people from Nebraska this far South-East, it was certainly possible that at least some people travelled so far even back then. Or might have been forcibly moved.

[9] Iron swords did not become commonplace until after the 8th Century BCE, a century later than Solomon's time. However, being a member of a rich and prosperous royal family probably meant that, if any would have access to such fine weapons, it would be their guards. And even then, perhaps only for ceremonial reasons.

[10] There are many even more incredible depictions of Solomon's throne, so I had to pick one that wouldn't take ages to describe. Stuff like this abounds in the early bible, making for some pretty interesting reading (Just skip the books called 'Numbers' and 'Deuteronomy': Trust me).

[11] This literally means before the flood, specifically the Biblical one with Noah. It's a cool word. People familiar with Vampire: The Masquerade should know this one.

[12] I had originally planned to leave these characters untranslated as an added bonus, but when I changed the scenes I wanted to show for Lu Bu's backstory I decided it was fine just to be clearer. I have taken several liberties with his historical origins, but the broad strokes remain the same. I just happen to be a student of Chinese history, so I am a little chagrined at the inaccuracies I am having to introduce, but this is also due in part to laziness and poor planning so I can't complain. But essentially the details are true. What really matters is that the things I change foreshadow the story.

[13] And on this unlucky footnote, we leave the first half of the backstories finished. Though I write these as more an exercise for myself than anything else, I hope some others find them interesting as well. Some scenes and ideas will likely be reused if I ever manage to write something original on my own. That is, after all, the final goal of this practice writing. Also, side note: just these three stories come in at 43 pages in a word doc. What am I even doing? Have I gone crazy?


	66. Part 3: Chapter 9

**Well howdy-doody. It's almost like I have a schedule again or something. No promises, though.**

 **Observant readers might be noticing a pattern with the times: perhaps a general trend. I will say that the Chapter number lining up with 9 o'clock this time is just a coincidence, for those seeking a clue. But the trend of what has been shown so far and will be shown again points to the culmination of this all.**

 **Without much ado, welcome back to a Certain Holiday Season.**

 **Chapter 9**

9:01 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 13: Border with District 21 and District 15

The tall, bearded man strode confidently along the narrow streets, finally coming to the end of the squat buildings that had surrounded his journey. The mountains were behind him as he took in a long scene of tall shining buildings and antennas, glass and steel and light in bright and attractive patterns. A multi-coloured glow arose from the ground as decorations and store fronts and apartment lights warmed the night.

"Ahah. True civilization at last. Bah." Rasputin spat. "Though less crowded, it is even more heretical than Moscow itself." Rubbing his exposed belly absentmindedly he looked up into the skyline, squinting. "There's something about this place. Reminds me of the past, despite its alien air."

His long legs ate up the distance, but before long his eyes were drawn up again. There was a rustling in the sky above, as if from a giant bird. But where the bird should be he saw a large sheet drifting down, with a blonde haired boy attached to it. This occurrence he noted with interest, especially once he saw how it changed course to land in the street ahead of him.

He clapped a few times as the parachute fell slack, big and heavy hands booming in the air. "That is an interesting trick."

"Nothing but air resistance." A spy named Tsuchimikado Motoharu brushed the snow dust from his own hands, eyeing Rasputin from behind his shades. "From the looks of you, you don't belong here, nyah. Aren't you a little cold?"

"Yes and no, newcomer." For a second, the tall man's grin was full of cruelty, but then his expression became contemplative, and finally demure. "...Then again, considering my last encounter, perhaps some restraint and good manners are in order. Can you tell me, who rules this place?"

"That wasn't what I was expecting. What do you want to know that for?" Tsuchimikado's breath blew frosty as he stretched his joints, watching carefully.

"This place. This 'Academy City', or so I have it is called." Rasputin gestured all around him, arms held out as he slowly spun, snorting with amusement. "Academy? The only child I've met is more dangerous than the adults, and I've yet to see a single school. And all I have heard is that it teaches unnatural skills but disdains Magic, has found found some other way with powers like my own. So tell me, who exactly is in charge here? I think I shall like to use this place."

"...What the Hell. It's Aliester."

Rasputin's eyes closed; he sharply drew breath, stiffening as his back was turned. "Truly? The same? Or is it another?" Then he relaxed, letting the tension out. "No. Of course it is him. This is just his style. Only he would attempt something as controlled and chaotic as all this. And have the arrogance to take my advantage for his own."

If the spy was surprised he gave no sign. "You seem awfully familiar with the Chairman."

The tall man shrugged. "He was an associate of mine, and a rival in a sense, though we operated in distant spheres. But I suppose it has been a long time since either he or I were around. Many years."

"Is that so." The spy thought for a moment, making a dozen connections in an instant, but only one was pertinent to the moment. "I can now confirm your identity, Rasputin. I know all about your powers. I hear you can be tough to kill."

"Once again my fame heralds my arrival! It is good to be remembered."

"I answered your question. Tell me; what is it your group plans to accomplish here?"

"I'll grant you an even greater boon. I'll tell you why **I** am here." He slammed one large fist into his chest, baring his teeth in a fell grimace. "They may wish to undo things, but I, Grigori Rasputin, move only forward! Why would I ever give up this wonderful state of unlimited energy? Forget Russia, I can rule the world like this! This is truly what my God commands!"

"The file on you was light on the megalomania." The spy cast one glance skyward before shaking his head. "If only that idiot hadn't gotten lost. He's the perfect opponent for you. But instead you've got only me, the worst possible match."

The spy raised his fists.

The tall man's feet left the ground.

From around his back waves of purple light and smoke emanated, wreathing and wrapping around the open street, sweeping over buildings. It curled around Rasputin and he was gone, melding into his Magic. From nowhere and yet all around, he spoke.

"You will be my second obstacle? I will not underestimate you like the last."

"I don't know if you're right about the Chairman." The spy began to bounce on the balls of his feet as the purple smog drifted past, around and above him. "But I've got my orders. From both sides, this time. Let's go."

!~~~~~~~~!

9:04 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 2: Several hundred feet in the air

"Pull! Pull, you imbecile! Pull you dolt! Pull you Imagine Breaker! Pull-"

"I AMMMMMMM-"

Finally the cord released, and the big envelope of the parachute billowed behind them. Othinus and Touma both were ratcheted by the deceleration, but neither let that silence them for long.

"We seem to still be falling with significant velocity, you know that right?"

"Just be glad no anti-air cannons have decided to blow us out of the sky, we're right over where they test military equipment!" He was already plotting a course for their approach, aiming between buildings for a clear overpass that cut just above an industrial park another road. "And we'll slow down, it's fine! I've done this befo-"

A huge gust of wind roared, and something slammed into the fabric of their parachute, so hard that it knocked them to a near halt. Worse, it punched a huge hole in their ride. They hung there in the sky for a second as physics tried to catch up.

 _I did it again._ Touma gazed at the punctured parachute morosely. _I spoke too soon._

As the initial burst of counter force left they fell again, gravity reasserting itself with a vengeance. The industrial and military buildings of District 2 rose up ever faster and what had been a controlled landing became a crash course with the roadways beneath them.

 _Think, think think think!_ With barely any control remaining, Touma pulled frantically on the steering cords, already too low to land atop the overpass as planned, trying now to veer at a flat angle underneath it instead as they came close to skimming the ground. The tattered chute nearly gave out before catching on the guard rail above, and the two swung hard, nearly rising up to the underside of the road before they began to pendulum beneath the artificial tunnel. The streets were quiet and clear, save for a few garbage bins, but in the distance shapes began to move.

"Haaaaah... Hah." Touma's feet nearly grazed the ground, which stayed nearby longer with every beat of his slowing heart, though the world still spun. Othinus groaned in his hood as the boy blearily raised his fists, still spinning awkwardly as he hung from the line. "All right, now which one of you Jerk-stone's nearly killed me by heart attack!? A Kamijou has to have enough pride not to die with soiled...Eh?"

As his vision steadied, he saw what seemed at first a large group of fuzzy figures surrounding them resolve into just three, much less fuzzy and standing a short distance away. All were too small to be any Summons he could recognize. Eventually he could also make out they were approaching, and that all were school girls, bundled up for the season in a surprisingly familiar style of Academy City winter wear uniforms. Normally this would not have been too alien a sight for Touma, but the situation and the hour kept his guard firmly, if not steadily, raised.

The tallest, or at least the boldest, of the three moved forward, slowly moving a colourful fan from her face. [1] "You do not seem anywhere near capable enough to be a real intruder, but why were you falling from the sky?"

Touma squinted as his brain finally found a resting place within his skull. Their faces became more clear: one was a tallish girl, her pronounced forehead and imperious gaze drawing the eye from long streaming black hair. She was flanked by a two others: one with hair a shade more colourful, and the other with light brown waves. Both had expressions substantially more concerned as they shared nervous glances behind their colleagues's back.

Touma did a quick mental checklist of his many enemies, but though he came up blank something struck him as odd. "...Do I know you?"

"Ohohoho! I should be recognized! You stand before Kongou Mitsuko!" But her triumphant grin weakened. "But that means you must be from the city, for I doubt even my fame has spread so far as that..."

"Well yeah I am. I'm a student. Can you help me down?" Touma squirmed in his harness, reaching for clasps hanging just out of easy reach. His efforts were halted as the fan whipped into his face.

"Still yourself, or I shall have to let loose another attack of my Aero Hand!" She sniffed, crossing her arms under her not inconsiderable chest. "You jest, thinking I would be so naive as to free you! I still have to interrogate you first! Now, Wannai-san, I believe you brought some bindings, so let us-"

"Wait, Kongou-san..."[2] Wannai Kinuko spoke up with a demure voice, growing bold enough to stand closer. "This is that boy, isn't it? At least, I think it is..."

"Wannai-san, who do you mean? Should I know him?" Kongou turned her eyes from one to the other, suddenly seeming quite unsure. "Awatsuki-san, what do you think?"

"Mmmmm." Awatsuki Maaya nodded slowly, fingers pressed cutely to her lips. "He does look familiar. His hair, right?"

"...Oh my yes! The spiky hair! And that vacant expression! It could only be him!"

 _I was worried at first, but..._ Touma could only blink, becoming aware his best bet was to keep calm. _Maybe I can avoid a fight right after landing after all-_

The fan was in his face again. "You must be that boy always hanging around Misaka Mikoto!"

"Mikoto!?" His shout was so surprising her fan tumbled into the snow, but Touma was too excited to notice. "You know-" _The uniforms!_ "Oh course, Tokiwadai, you must be her friends! That's great, what a lucky break! Wait, always?" _Is it really that often?_

"C-certainly more often than her other suitors."

 _What does that word mean again...?_ But before he could ponder Touma's memory was wrenched back to the moment he crashed into his room at St. George's and saw a familiar Gekota brooch casually discarded upon the floor. All of a sudden, his search came into question.

"...said you're looking for her? Well?"

He realized his was being spoken to. "Uh, yes! Yes, I am, have you seen her? I'm trying to find her and... Someone else. Someone I think she's looking for, too."

"Well." His momentary outburst over, Kongou coughed, reasserting control and feigning indifference as she daintily retrieved her fan. "It just so coincides that we, too, are looking for her. Now, what information do you have to her whereabouts?"

"I have no idea what you said. But I just jumped out of a jet, so I've only started looking. What do you know? Is she around here?"

The other girls murmured behind Kongou's back.

"...You jumped from a plane? Why?"

"...And you're a student here? Wow."

"Yes, explain!" She whipped her fan into his face. "Do you know anything about the strange events that are transpiring this evening? Speak!"

"I... Wait, strange events?"

"The dormitories of Tokiwadai have been abuzz about some sightings of intruders, which would be interesting enough, but also of our Ace out fighting." Now Kongou's face grew hard, as did the others. "She is our friend and my rival, you see, so we naturally had to skip curfew and go to her aid."

"Oh." Ignoring their interrogative intent, Touma finished freeing himself from the parachute. Though they gasped, he merely slipped on a patch of ice and landed on his rear. "Ow." Touma scrounged his memories for the girls, trying to connect their faces to to some event that he could recall. "Well, where is she?"

Kongou frowned. "We do not know. We heard she was last seen somewhere in this area, however."

"In District 2? She's here?" _Well, that makes sense, it has all sorts of military things she could-_

"Hmm? No, I heard rumours about her heading to District 9."

"What?" Touma groaned, holding his head. "Then we're in completely the wrong place! You're off by two districts!"

"Really? But it should be right next to District 7, I am certain that is correct-"

"They're separated by District 15! Can't you see all these military complexes? How about those giant panels every where that with ultrasonic waves quieten the sound of all the explosions from the testing, do these look like fine arts schools?" Touma gestured pointedly at the billboard-like constructions jutting out from the walls of every building insight, half-surprised that he remembered the detail. _Guess frustration does that to you..._

"Kongou-san," Awatsuki forced a smile, possibly feeling a more charitable version of the same emotion. "Isn't that was what I was trying to say a half hour ago?"

"Y-yes, well. I suppose we are mislead, then." Kongou's face was invisible behind her fan. "But then we shall merely return the other way. She cannot be far."

"Listen, are you three sure this is a good idea?" He wasn't sure how best to pose the question again, especially once all three turned to him with such innocent expressions. "Have you... Can you fight?"

"Well, I never! I knocked you down to the ground with that trash container robot, did I not!?"

 _Ah, crap._ The boy stood even as his momentary hope faded. _There's no way these girls know about anything, or the dark side of Academy City. They have no idea what they're up against. I don't even know!_ "Look, this really isn't someth-"

Something heavy slammed into the street behind the girls. They squeaked, spun, and ran back in fear as a cloud of snow and debris scattered, all the way to the edge of the overpass. Touma's reaction to immediately crouch before them and raise Imagine Breaker proved wise as a boulder the size of a mailbox caused it to ring out.

"Aagh!" Pain shot up his arm but the attack failed utterly, winking out of existence.

"As I thought." The dust and snow had not finished settling before a tall man in a regal, purple rode strode out from the small crater his arrival had formed, a green glow fading at his feet. He shifted his arms, and the sleeves fell back to reveal a set of rings upon his hands. On his left was a pale white opal, next to a glittering green emerald; this latter one shone the most vividly, but was quickly dimming. Opposite were a burning ruby and a shimmering sapphire. One last hung from a chain from his neck, a magnificent diamond glinting in the street lights. "You are the one who possesses the current iteration of Imagine Breaker."

"Damn it, already? And I don't even recognize you!" _He's got to be with Miss Baker, but what is his deal? Is he some sort of pimp?_

"Who/What is he?" Wannai and Awatsuki asked with mixed responses of surprise and shock.

"You girls, get out of here!" Touma hoped his voice could be heard over the sound of a rising wind, but realized it was coming from behind him. He turned in time to watch Kongou slapped the discarded backpack of his parachute with her fan, and to see strange jets of wind billowing from it. "What-"

"I believe they say, hit the dirt!"

Touma dove. Her power activated, gale force winds loud at this close range despite the sonic panelling cancelling out their extended effect. They activated upon the empty bag of his parachute but rather than swing upwards like a swing clever angling of forces pushed it forward, and with a powerful rip it tore the parachute into long entangling shreds. The whole mess of fabric and string shot forward, catching up the startled enemy. Hands helped the boy to his feet and soon all four were running under the overpass to escape to the other side. Yet a furious blaze engulfed the temporary bindings, and their opponent was clear and following them before they had reached the other side. On his right hand now the ruby ring reddened his features with its burnished glow.

"Fire too?" As she was looking over her shoulders Wannai was the last to catch up when the others stopped. "I thought he was using earth just now!" But even as she said it, the man shifted hands again, and the opal ring shown white yet dull. From behind him the snow blew forward, propelled by a strong wind, stinging their eyes and faces. "Is this Multi-skill!?"

"Doesn't matter!" Awatsuki clasped the girl on the shoulder, dragging her onto another street with the others. "Either way we cannot stay here!"

Touma was first to find something, pointing out an field full of cargo containers and tarps behind a chain link fence. "Can one of you get us inside? There should be some kind of weaponry in here to slow him down, or at least a place to hide!" He had not finished before several instances of Areo Hand folded one of the fence poles over itself. Last to climb over, Touma saw the man approaching, rings burning fiercely in the night, red, white, green, and blue.

Then he was dragged over and pulled along into the yard, and the group lost themselves in the immense maze. But Touma looked back at the trail of their footsteps behind. "Crap, he can just follow us!"

"I'm on it!" To Touma's surprise, Wannai stopped running and began to slide, as if she were skating upon a thin layer of invisible ice. He saw as she swept around behind them that she was holding out her hands and smoothing out the snow with her esper power.

"Good idea, but hold on!" As she ran ahead, Awatsuki slapped a container. "Kongou-san, can you slide it now?"

Touma was incredulous, but as the ojou-sama passed by she placed a several instances of her Aero Hand, building them up to release once all were passed. The cargo slid as if on grease, firmly blocking their retreat. But it could not nearly be enough, judging by the sound of violent, if muted, clanging behind them, and it wasn't until several minutes and no small amount of containers had been waylaid that their trail had been covered. The cacophony of deadened noise, though already somewhat deadened by the use of the sonic siding the buildings enjoyed, grew distant enough to justify regrouping.

"...Phew. Good job." Touma shook his head, steadying his heart. "I don't know what you all did, but that was pretty good thinking." _I guess they teach upper class girls how to use their powers pretty well. Though I guess I shouldn't be surprised given..._

"The same could be said of you." Awatsuki nodded her head. "You punched that boulder he conjured. What esper ability lets you do that?"

"Don't worry about that." He waved away the question with the hand in question, not wanting to deal with it. Touma scanned what he could see of the skyline, looking for some kind of landmark that could lead them out and away. "What matters is getting out of here, and away from that psycho. I'll distract him while you three escape, and then I'll get out too. Maybe you can keep me updated on rumours about her locati-"

"What matters is finding my friend and rival!" Kongou's stern look reinforced her determination. "If this is the kind of challenge she has to face, then it is only right I manage the same, and assist her if need be!"

"Are you kidding?" Touma looked at her agog. "This isn't exactly playing around any more, this is pretty dangerous! You could actually die here!"

"Isn't that guy pursuing you and Misaka-sama? Then isn't your life in danger as well?" Wannai asked, polite yet precise as always.

"Exactly, so I'll go deal with him. It's not something you should have to worry about." Touma grinned with a expression meant to convey his confidence and resolve. "I got her into this mess, and I'll get her out."

"Oh goodness, you're terrified."

"Of course I am!" He had to fight to keep his voice below a shout, but the three girls were startled quiet any way. "These people aren't espers, they're not scientists, they're not normal! They're really bad people who play by a completely different rule book, nothing normal at all! You're not prepared to deal with them, and even though I can counter them I'm hardly better! So I've got to find Miss Baker and stop whatever she is using to do all this, and then she and they' and everyone'll be safe and everything can go back to normal!"

For a second, in the silence that followed, Touma felt he had impressed upon them the scope of the danger they were in, if not the specifics.

"What do you mean, not espers?"

"Who exactly is this Miss Baker you mentioned, and why is she so important? Is she with the Ace?"

"...Normal?"

 _Why did I say that?_ "Look, you're missing my point."

"And you miss ours." Kongou decided, imperious again. "We intend to help our friend. That is that."

"That's all well and good but..." _What can I even say here._ "...Wouldn't she feel better if she knew you were all safe, and not out here fighting without knowing what's going on?" Their expressions beginning to show doubt, Touma pressed on mercilessly. "And if you're really feeling crazy, you can go right on trying to find her after this. But that won't really be what helps her. And even if it is, I'm not going to let you get hurt here in the process. I'll find a better way."

Awatsuki's eyes flickered away, but she held her chin up as best she could when she responded. "We know about the bad things that happen in Academy City, and we've helped her fight them before. We can do it again."

Touma sighed, trying to let the raw exhaustion in his heart speak for him. "You might have guessed she's up to her hairpin in trouble with what goes on here, but this is worse than anything you can imagine. Just explaining it to you is dangerous, and that's without considering we're being hunted." A loud crash in the distance punctuated his point neatly.

"...Maybe in part. But no." Kongou's abrupt denial surprised Touma with its cool firmness. "It is you being hunted, not us. You must be as deep in this trouble as our Ace is, are you not?"

"...Yeah." _You wouldn't understand even if I could explain._ "But it's my fault, and even if it wasn't it'd still be my burden to bear." _That's just the way my unfortunate life works._ "So don't worry." _I guess it's fine if you're used to it._ "I won't let anyone get hurt, no matter what you might think." _Better to keep the suffering than spread it._ "And I'll find a way to shatter your illusions if you think otherwise."

The three girls stared at Touma in the increasingly chill night. Two perspectives, two relationships ran up against each other like troubled ships battered in a storm. But before either could sink, all four noticed a strange sound. It was almost like a whisper, as soft and delicate as the slice of a leaf in Autumn and as intense as the guillotine's sweep. Behind the boy, something shifted.

He turned in time to watch thin lines of nothing slice the cargo compartments in half, then in half, and then in half again. As they cut the steel walls tumbled apart, as did their contents of complicated computer telemetry and metal tubing and copper wires, all spilling out like so much viscera. Above the wreckage strode the regal figure, his hands folded inside his robes.

But this time, Touma dove forward, swinging out his injured hand. Imagine Breaker rang, but the man did not even flinch, instead jumping back out of range and revealing his own fist. Oe it, the opal ring gleamed. The ground shook, and though the boy readied himself for a dodge he instantly could tell he was not the target.

In horror he turned backwards, desperately hoping to return in time to save the girls, but the huge wall of stone that had erupted between them slid away, pushing the girls with it judging by their screams of surprise. But rather than crush them flat against a row of cargo containers stacked high, the ground itself swelled like a wave and crested over the top, flinging all three clear to the other side, over the fence and out.

Touma wrenched his gaze from their plight to tend to his own danger, but the man stood where he had retreated, breathing a sigh as the emerald glow of his green ring faded.

"I have removed them from the equation. That was what you preferred, was it not? I have no intention of bloodying my hands. I merely do what I must."

 _Get him talking. Start planning. Then run._ "Who... are you, exactly?" Touma's eye crawled over everything it could touch, the debris scattered upon the ground for useful tools or distractions, his mind racing to remember the path behind him and possible places for cover.

"The others knew me." The man grunted, but a thin smile played upon his face. "In another time and place, I might have tried to take apart that hand of yours, and see what happens when it is rendered down to its indivisible core. Yet I am wiser than I was in my time, and even then I did not kill needlessly."

"So you know what Imagine Breaker can do?" A roughly coiled piece of thick cable near both of their feet seemed to Touma his best bet, as did a quick retreat over the containers to his right, a section caved in from rock slide just enough to allow his climbing over. "And you still want to fight?"

"Yes, but however seriously our guide suggests I treat you, I will incapacitate you instead. You may call me Solomon, if you care too."

"Okay, that's great, Solo-man." Taking care to kept his eyes ahead and not give away his plan, Touma searched for his moment, sliding his right foot into the coils as he took a fighting pose. "Come get me if that's what you want."

"As you wish."

Solomon moved forward quicker than his size suggested, but Touma was prepared just enough. Dragging his foot back he caught the coils of cable and pulled hard; it slid with surprising ease, fast enough so that its other end whipped up, leaping into the path of the summon's feet. Stumbling and slowing him just enough and forcing him to stretch out his arms to keep balance. Aiming for his left hand, Touma reached out with Imagine Breaker. But Solomon read his intent and swung his arm out wider still, keeping his rings at arms length

And leaving him just open enough for Touma's spiky-haired head to crash head first into his exposed belly.

The ancient King of Jerusalem made an undignified sound and crumpled up like an storefront mannequin, all sudden, jerky movements as he fell to his knees. He did not even have enough presence of mind to notice Touma darting over the barricade as he fled.

Rubbing the kink out of his neck with his good hand, Touma stumbled along the obstacle course of random boxes and cover shipments. _Of course you're going to worry about your rings with my hand, but you can't forget about the rest of me!_

"RISE DJINNS, AND SERVE ME!"

 _That's bad._ Not understanding but understanding enough, Touma took a sharp turn and waited, listening for signs of an attack. But he heard nothing more.

Instead, he saw four lights rise up into the air, spinning and fanning out, flowing each with the colour of Solomon's rings. Touma ducked behind a container, but realized he was too late: rainbows spread over everything as the glowing spheres approached and surrounded him in a kaleidoscopic disco display. The air began to boil and whip, whipping steam and rattling debris off of containers with heavy pings. Though distracted by all the commotion, Touma noticed that for a moment, the green one pulsed.

A heavy rock flung out, missing Touma by scant inches. The red pulsed, and then the white orb in sympathy; a lick of flame struck the ground he had just dove from, but a gust of air caught him and rolled him to his back. The blue pulsed, and he raised his arms as a torrent materialized from nowhere to smash him as he lay prone.

But it missed, diverting and spreading out over the ground. Not one to miss his chance Touma scrambled upright and leapt as high as he could, swiping the blue sphere before it could pulse again. Imagine Breaker rang out, and it fizzled into nonexistence. With renewed hope he dashed the other three mindless orbs, each floating lower, and set off at a flat run.

"Rise Djinns, and serve me!"

"Crap. He can summon then again?" But now that he had caught a break, Touma's mind was focused on understanding. _I guess those things let him act at a greater distance, but aren't directly under his control. If I pay attention, I can counter them. Just watch for the pulse, then react, easy._ "...Wait, what is this, some insane rhythm game!? This like those stupid combat systems that keep getting in the way of a good story! And summoned enemies aren't supposed to be able to make more summons, that's just not fair gameplay!"

The great video game designer in the sky was not in the mood for such pleas, for the orbs had risen again, and were already streaking towards him as entirely un-festive Christmas lights.

!~~~~~~~~!

9:05 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 9, A hospital's helicopter pad

Mikoto wished she could feel the cold air streaming through her hair as she rockets from the rooftop to a nearby tower pole, but the hat she wore kept everything bundled tightly inside. She did nothing to change that as he feet stuck to the metal, sparing only a glance to make sure the confused staff clutching their arms against the winter night checked the helicopter more closely. Once she heard their cries of alarm, she let herself drop.

The ground rose beneath her, but she wrenched herself out of free-fall to rocket over the buildings, balancing herself on magnetic interactions with a hundred different fixtures. She settled into an approach on a school building overlooking a broad park of carefully pruned trees, all hidden under snow. But bright light-shows played out for their sole, sky-borne observer. Holographic displays pantomimed winter celebrations from a dozen different cultures, with the rather imposing Santa Claus centre piece waving at some unseen giants in the distance. More standard lighting illuminated the pathways and benches, but even these were holographically projected from little emitters that only an Electromaster of her caliber could find easily. She alighted atop the park's sole building, an information booth, and let its internal steel framing slow her fall. As she passed them by without a glance, the holograms flickered.

 _I remember this place. A little gaudy._ As she flipped out her phone, she let her mind wander. _This is the district where the more artsy kids go, I think. But to be this obsessed with projected displays is a little odd._ He maps loaded, and the little blinking disruption was bright and firm. _But apparently you are here too, my target. So let's take care of you._

Her phone rang.

Shocked, Mikoto needed a moment to process the intrusion and Uiharu's displayed name, answering just before the third ring.

"Misaka-sama, be careful."

On edge, Mikoto eyed the quiet park around her. "Okay, I'm listening."

"I think you are being manipulated."

"...What?"

"The program I sent you. You've been using it, right?" The Judgment agent paused, realizing she had to explain. "I heard the noise I programmed it with up in the observatory. But you're looking for something other than crimes now, aren't you? Your code is good, but your precision is way to high; Even I couldn't come that close unless I had a super computer at my disposal."

Mikoto opened her mouth for a denial, but was cut off.

"I wasn't on the network until just now, but I can tell something very strange is happening tonight." She chuckled weakly, perhaps embarrassed. "I am a little ashamed to say I don't quite know what yet. But I am certain that events are happening all over the city, some that you likely don't even know about, and that someone is watching them as they happen."

 _Great news._ "Okay, yeah. But what does that mean for me specifically?"

"I tried to connect to your phone and the application I gave you and you modified, but another connection was already established, and not just observing. They have made changes, I think, but I can't tell if they did that or just sent misleading data."

"..." Though the phone had not yet sent her astray, Mikoto eyed it with suspicion and then the intense scrutiny of her electromagnetic powers. The code ran through her mind as she dove deep into the machine, and saw the truth.

"Don't try to cut out the connection for now. Phone calls should be secure, because they are routed from cell towers and not wireless internet. So they don't know we have noticed their presence." The steady voice of the Judgment agent was replaced by the rapid clacking of a heavy keyboard. "Let me try to find the source. You can continue to pursue your objective tonight, and I will let you know if I notice anything."

Mikoto shook her head in wonder and bemusement. "...Thanks, Uiharu-san." _For helping, and not asking hard questions._

"Of course. It's my pleasure! I want to get to the bottom of this strange network operator." She sniffed, her frown audible in her tone. "And I don't like the idea of someone messing with my code! Other than you, of course."

"Ahaha, yeah. Sorry about that." _But you gave it to me open source, and I needed it to track something different!_

"Stay in touch, and stay safe, Misaka-sama."

"You too."

The line clicked dead.

"...Argh!" Mikoto gave a small cry of frustration before snapping her phone into her pocket. "What else is gonna happen tonight, huh!?" A pile of snow crunched satisfyingly beneath her feet as she dropped from the small information booth, but it did little to stave off her annoyance. "Me, the Railgun, being led around by some random ***hole with a computer? Reality really must be coming apart at the seams..."

She kicked at tufts of snow that had drifted onto the path since the last sweeping droid had passed, trying to ignore the vibrant holograms that wished her all the cheer in the world. Glowing messages of joy and piece and friendship went as unnoticed as possible, each an increasingly annoying reminder of how alone she was.

In a second, she realized that was not quite true. Just ahead of her where two paths crossed, two students were walking closely, arm in arm, moving in the direction of another figure, taller but walking as despondently as her. Their gender could not be told; they were completely covered, hands in the pockets of a long, heavy black coat, and head shielded by long, loose curls of tawny hair. The person's chin rested morosely on their chest, suddenly it snapped up as the person stopped and seemed to stare at the approaching couple.

For a moment, Mikoto sympathized wryly, stopping as well. _Yeah, I know that feeling._ But only for a moment, since afterwards she only had room for surprise as all three, several trees, and large section of the pathways disappeared into darkness before her eyes.

Stepping back in shock, she got a better sense of the featureless black shape: it was a perfect hemisphere, enveloping a several meters of the park and its holograms. But the shape was so totally black and utterly without contour that it was impossible to tell anything more than the boundaries of where it was and wasn't.

Then a flash, and the black was gone. The pathways and tree returned intact, but the couple were upon the ground, one writhing and muttering, the other as stiff and still as the dead. Above them stood the loner, looking down with a hidden expression.

"Here too?" The lone figure, now the only one standing, shook their head and sighed, long hair gracefully settling on his shoulders. "Why did I even bother getting hopeful." His voice was deep enough to seem a man, but nothing about his stance or attitude suggested maturity. He was hunched over so far forward he looked more like a senior, even though he spoke like an angsty teen and had the face of a full grown man. His face was deeply shadowed despite the lights by his hanging mane of hair.

"...I don't need my phone for this one." Mikoto muttered, then raised her voice, charging power. "All right, buster. What did you do them?"

"And it's so cold here, too." After saying this, the man stood silently. Then he knelt down, and gave their bodies a poke with his finger, like a child might investigate a rotten log. "But they're just like the rest. Typical, always the same."

"Hey! You, I'm talking to you!"

"Eh?" The man finally swung his head to Mikoto. Though he made no aggressive move his empty eyes and haunted expression filled her with unease. He slowly took her, either very tired or supremely bored, jaw nearly so slack his speech was slurred. "I wandered this way, feeling I might find someone worth my time, but all I've found are fools. That promise was nothing but ****."

"Great, I've had a busy night. Where's Index, or Miss Baker?"

"Eh?" The morose man repeated the same stupid sound, this time squinting at the girl. "Who're they?"

 _Are you serious?_ Despite all she had seen so far, Mikoto had not expected this level of gross incompetency. So it was her turn to stare agape.

"Ooooh." The man slowly nodded, closing his eyes as understanding overwhelmed his devotion to lethargy. "...I suppose that means you're someone who's going to try and stop them? I guess us, I mean."

 _Same as last time, then._ "Not just try." _Let's go right to it._ Sparks curled angrily around her brow as she focused her powers around-

-The man who was suddenly directly in front of her, blinking with either drowsiness or surprise. His hands cradled both sides of her head, hovering just beside her ears.

Mikoto staggered backwards several feet and away from his grasp as she tried to get her own handle on what had just happened. Options ran through her mind, but all she could hear was the sounds of a nearby holographic elf singing a cheery tune.

"- _very Merry Christmas, to you, my dear friends, and a very Happy New Year, too! A very Merry Christmas, to you-"_

It repeated so fast to be anything but an earsore but she ignored it. Mikoto desperately searched her senses, her memory, but came no nearer to understanding what had just happened. _I didn't even have a chance to react, my fields told me nothing at all. Was that pure speed? Some kind of illusion?_

"Huh." The man had apparently been thinking as well, for he abruptly came to a conclusion. "You're not acting like the rest." For the first time since she'd seen his face, the man's eyes gained a little life. "I've always had a knack for finding the toughest opponent among weaklings, but this is a first. Is that you?"

"What do you mean? What did you just do?"

He looked at his bare hands extending from the long, furry black sleeves of his overcoat, giving them a shake like he was seeing them for the first time. "Whenever I used that on someone they would just fall before me. I guess I could just punch you, but that's boring. Am I going to have to... Try something else?" He spoke the words as if they were filled with magic, essentially ignoring the girl he was speaking too.

"You're not answering my questions!" Worry fought with anger, but the latter proved the more immediate solution. "Who the heck are you, you moody jerk!?"

"Alexander of Macedon." [3] His words were concise and given without fanfare, but Mikoto was still somewhat awed at the thought. "I used to fight a lot but then it was boring. Do you fight?"

 _Heck of an introduction for an Emperor, but that's not going to stop me._ "You better believe I do." Holding nothing back now, she pulled out her power, lightning arcing in a brilliant aura around her. Stray fingers of power crawled up the pathway and disrupted holograms, but she kept them tightly controlled around her. "I'm the third ranked esper of Academy City, Misaka Mikoto, the Railgun."

"Third? Uh." He grunted, nodding his easy acceptance of that statement. "I wonder if you're someone worthy of my time."

The hologram droned on in the background. "- _New Year, too! A very Merry-"_

Wasting no further time Mikoto narrowed her focus to Alexander-

-who had disappeared. But this time, Mikoto expected his escape, and spun, swinging another salvo where he-

-had just been standing idly behind her. Mikoto repeated the attempt-

-and just missed his next resting place, where he had been standing at arms length.

"- _Year, too! A very Merry-"_ The hologram had quickly repeated itself, but Mikoto paid it little mind.

 _Okay, new tactic._ She conserved her power as she sought out his next hiding point, reaching for a coin and seeking some nearby tools to develop a diversion. But it was for nothing. Alexander was well and truly gone.

"...Where...?" She checked over her shoulder again and again, but he had vanished. Eventually she caved to the pressure and began to slowly walk forward, eyes peeled. Fearing both ambush from Alexander and her phone's betrayal, she decided to check the latter again. The little dot had indeed moved, but not far, just around the corner.

Not ten meters away she found him, sitting dejectedly upon a park bench. His hands were buried deep in his hair as he held his head up from crashing into his knees.

"Hey!" Though wary, she jogged closer, raising her voice. "Hey, we're having a fight here! What are-"

"No we're not." He rejected her without even raising his head. "You're just trying to hit me, and I can't touch you without it hurting or make you fall asleep when you have that stupid..." The emperor waved the fingers of one hand around in the air as he thought. "Power stuff around you. Makes it pointless. I don't care any more." Satisfied, he returned to massaging his scalp.

 _Are you kidding me?_ "Can you take this seriously?" Mikoto realized she might regret saying that when-

-he was in her face, staring her down with an intense grimace.

"Seriously!? No, I can't, and that's so boring, this is so boring! So BORING!" As he shouted he reared back, howling to the heavens in anguish. "I was told I could have what I wanted if I helped you, so where is my purpose!? Come back already and give me what I want, I'm tired of waiting!"

Having again retreated several paces, Mikoto fought to calm her racing heart. _What is he doing!? I don't even have to blink but still I lose him!_

He began to ramble, make less and less sense every second. "Everything I've ever done, I was told I'm special and would always succeed, but this is so stupid I hate it! Raaagh!" He fumed, ranted, raved-

-and the bench was shattered into two halves, smashed through with a hammer blow; he knelt before it, forearm half buried in the icy earth. Though he was kneeling now he seemed even larger than when he merely stood. Mikoto was frozen as she stared at Alexander, but despite his rage he merely grasped for one of the wooden chunks, exposed nails gleaming in the holographic light-

-Pain.

 _...Aah...? Wha...?_ The ground was cold and hard beneath her. Her face lay pressed against the ice, aching with newfound scratches and scrapes. Her breath had been knocked away, and her stomach felt bruised and battered. The holograms around her continued to sing, but it fought against the ringing in her ears. Overcoming the pain she tried to roll over, refusing to let down her electromagnetic shielding, and saw from her sideways angle Alexander standing above her.

"You're alive? But I..." He held up the wooden board and frowned. "Kh. Your power stops that even when in mine? That just makes it more frustrating, I can't even kill you the simple way." The iron screws that had been embedded in it had been ripped out, halted by her power.

"How?"

"I'm just invincible." Mikoto was not aware she had spoken until he casually looked down, letting the two-by-four dangle loosely. "No one has a purpose until they lose. You know that? That's just the way it is; as long as you keep winning, you're not done, you can't rest. It's only over when you lose." His face returned to the same gloomy expression it had first worn, but this time the girl saw the deep darkness came from more than just the shadow of his hair. "Always winning is the worst punishment you could ever burden someone with. So be glad I'm going to bless you with a painful loss today."

Mikoto knew she would not see it coming. When he finally began to swing that weapon down, all she'd known would be the pain. She twitched in fear and-

-the wooden board shattered and scattered to the winds, splintered by an incredible pinpoint force. But in a split second, just before the explosion, Alexander had vanished.

Someone approached along the pathway, tap-tapping along the ice.

"What are you doing with that small fry?" A boy with snow white hair an face full of repressed anger stumbled along the pathway beside where Mikoto lay, but his eyes were locked ahead. "Is this little ****show really what's messing with things?"

Something deep primal fear within the girl urged her to run, but it was almost all she could do to force herself to her knees. Mikoto's head was only able to raise high enough to see the newcomer's knees, but a sinking feeling in her heart told her things may have gone from bad to worse.

"...And who are you?" Alexander stood nearby, eyeballing the fearlessly approaching newcomer, a pile of rocks and ice and wood gathered at his feet. "Someone else come to disappoint me?" But Mikoto could tell he was becoming interested.

The First Ranked esper of Academy City didn't even bother to blink before-

-the pathway erupted into a maelstrom of rocks, ice, bit of metal and wood, and Mikoto screamed weakly as she covered her face from the hail of debris. Grateful enough it wasn't targeting her, she finally found the wind in her to stand and run several meters back, forcing her to check on the state of the invader's corpse.

Yet Alexander was gone. Or at least, gone from the attack's epicenter, and moved to a mere foot from Accelerator's face.

And Accelerator was not pleased.

"What did you do to those vectors just now?"

Considering who was doing the asking, the question was politely phrased, but Mikoto could feel the rage behind it in her very bones.

"No idea. But that won't work against me."

"I knew it." He spat to the side, hand moving from the dial on his power's regulator. "You are one of the *******s messing with things and giving me a headache tonight."

"You have some strength, I guess. And you look pretty interesting, too. Different, but interesting." Alexander's head was tilted to the side as he mused, long locks swaying gently. "But if you want to fight neither will help you."

Though one was gangly and dressed in thin indoor clothes and the other was surprisingly fit and burly under his oversized black coat, there was a strange symmetry in their stooped forms. Yet the sight of the two of them together rammed one impression into the forefront of Mikoto's mind.

 _I've got to get out of here before-_

 _-_ darkness consumed.

!~~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes:**_ [4]

[1] Oh yeah, I went there. Remember when I implied things weren't going to get any simpler? There are going to be more.

[2] I can't remember if her friends call her Kongou-san or Kongo-Sama, and I just don't have time to do real checking on when they appear in either the show or the books. If someone knows, please fill me in! For now, I will assume that by this time, they are friendly enough to be past any initial idol worship, but Mikoto might still be someone they seriously respect.

[3] No history lesson from me this time. Either you know who Alexander the Great is, or you don't. As to his power, wait and see. There's a reason he conquered the known world.

[4] I think I forgot to put my headers in these sections the last few times. That's what happens after extended breaks.


	67. Part 3: Chapter 10

**Howdy, everyone. Another Friday, another Chapter. We just passed 500000 words now. Half a million. That's a good chunk longer than Lord of the Rings in its entirety, and I bet we'll come close to War and Peace before I'm done. Of course, a lot of that, at least 15000 words, comes from these little introductions and my Q and A sessions, so once they are edited out of the final draft they won't count. Still, while length isn't everything, it is always nice to see how far one has come to better understand where one might end up. And as another milestone, then end of this chapter is the official halfway point of this third part.**

 **But with that, welcome back to a Certain Holiday Season.**

 **Chapter 10**

9:15 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 9, Hologram Art Garden [1]

Giving a little shout of surprise Mikoto fell backwards, barely staying on her feet. But nothing else had happened. A featureless black wall faced her down, following a perfect curve inwards to cover the two fighters in blackness. Not even her own face was reflected upon its perfect, alien surface. It radiated nothing in any spectrum she could sense, visual or otherwise; it even seemed to deaden the sounds of the holograms caroling around it.

And then it burst, like any other bubble, with a pop. Light and sound pulsed bright and loud for a second, and two streams of twisting pathway and ice fell to the ground. The number one ranked esper in Academy City's attack had curled all around them both, great deadly tendrils of vectors made vicious. Yet it had clearly missed, for Alexander stood behind Accelerator, casually walking away.

As for Accelerator, his face was set in stone.

 _He must be doing calculations, because..._ Mikoto found her own attempt at the math making no sense; it completely defied the limits of physics. _He attacked so fast I couldn't even see it sense it on the electromagnetic spectrum. But it made no difference at all._

"...What the **** is this?" Pivoting on his chain the white-haired boy turned to follow. "If you think that decided anything-"

"It decided everything." Alexander's voice had returned to boredom, and he kicking at the thin layer snow in his way as he left. "You're just kinda like her. Maybe quicker than the rest, sure, but not quick enough. No matter how dangerous you may be to others, it's not a threat to me."

Mikoto felt her breath escape her, and there was no taking it back. Instinctively she backed away several steps, trying to pretend that she wasn't there, wasn't a fly on the wall in the moment of Accelerator's humiliation, grateful at least that she wasn't about to be the target of his retribution-

-as the blackness swallowed them whole again.

"- _very Merry Christmas, to you, my dear-_

The incongruous song had become an irritant, but in a split second it gave Mikoto inspiration.

"Wait a minute!" Eyes wide, hardly believing her own intuition but realizing time was literally of the essence, she whipped for a coin in her pocket and readied a railgun, counting the seconds. _Ten seconds, I think, so going by the song.._

 _-Year, too! A very Merry Christmas, to you-"_

And then-

 _Now!_

-the bubble of blackness popped. The rush of sound and light came with it, but they were drowned out by a rail gun. She had only a split second to aim, but standing right behind the now prone Accelerator, her target was undefended. Her shot struck home and the remains of another vector-based attack evaporated as its originator lost focus.

Mikoto lost her target in the smoke and steam, barely sparing a thought for her fallen ally of circumstance. Concern was lost in a moment of hope and perhaps a little pride at triumphing where the first ranked had failed.

Alexander's hand was smoking, radiantly hot. But he only glanced at it with mild amusement. "Hmmm... Teacher was right in the end, then. Give them enough chances and someone will figure it out."

 _What?_ Even the voice inside her head was weak. _How? No human..._ Her internal monologue trailed off as she realized she was his only opponent still standing, but luckily Alexander was still more interested in the boy with snow-white hair.

"Still, you had an even nastier surprise then I got from the girl." Mikoto watched him flexing the fingers of his other hand; it was entirely bruised, but somehow intact. "But if all you can do is make touching you painful, that only makes me depressed."

"Another Saint?" It was the only explanation Mikoto could think of, but Alexander didn't even turn his head to refute it.

"Maybe. But I'm closer to a god." Only now did he turn, stepping carelessly over Accelerator. "But well done, girl. You only saw it a half dozen times, but you still understand what it is I do."

 _But that doesn't help me beat it._ In fact, Mikoto realized it made it worse, for now she understood the utter futility of her own, and even Accelerator's efforts. "...Your power is based on time."

"Yes." The tawny haired emperor nodded, a surprisingly empty gesture.

 _How do I beat someone before an instant has passed?_ Mikoto found herself surprised that she even considered the question, as impossible as it seemed. _Even vectors need time, or else they don't even exist. And reflexes don't seem to be a limit to him. I need something that can work instantly, or..._ Though sweating nervously, she eyed Accelerator, and realized he was her only option.

Swallowing hard, and already regretting her desperate decision, she raised a trembling hand. Though her eyes never left Alexander, who was watching the sky with bored disinterest, she sent the fasted bolt she could generate at the fallen boy.

It struck him but reflected back, perfectly aimed as she expected, and-

-Alexander was already gone, this time she could tell without even looking he was standing behind her.

The lightning raced her way, but Accelerator maintained control and diverted it from both targets, dispersing it harmlessly. He was propping himself up now on one fist, snarling furiously at either her, him, or them both. Either way Mikoto sprinted away, trying to open up distance between them both as she shouted.

"S-sorry! About that! But, I need-"

"I could have told you it wouldn't work, you idiot." His breathing was laboured, but not from exertion; he had clearly been winded from some attack to his stomach the way his free hand cradled it. "If he could be surprised by that bull**** he'd already be dead."

Mikoto skidded to a halt, grateful that Alexander had not moved from he stood. From his face, he seemed more surprised than anything else; _Probably surprised we're still willing to fight._ Because though he had been driven to his knees by an attack that bypassed his reflection, Accelerator too was returning to the fray, leaning heavily on his motorized cane. But it was taking him so long despite its assistance that Mikoto had time to reflect on how astonishing and somehow wrong it was to see him look so weak. _The last time..._

Despite herself, the memory resurfaced.

 _Last time._

"Stop day-dreaming." He did not shout, but Accelerator's voice was cruel. "Unless you ******* want to die."

"R-right." Both chastened and afraid, Mikoto cleared her throat. "His powers are time based, and last ten seconds. Inside a ten meter sphere he can-

"9.978 seconds, 10.467 meters. Did I ******* ask for help?" Though Accelerator's snarl was angry, Mikoto thought for a second she actually detected a note of amusement in his tone. "It could only be time based if he can perfectly distort and counter my vectors."

 _Must be nice to have it so obvious, even if he's a monster._ But Mikoto would never dare vocalise her oddly contradictory jealousy, and was now even more hesitant to ponder some kind of deranged team-up. _Me and the guy who killed my sisters. If I'm lucky they'll wipe each other out._ But she swallowed her disgust and fear, knowing that as it stood, it was not an even fight at all.

"Well, look." She said, deciding to just say it. "I hate you, you piece of trash. But I need him stopped so I can deal with something bigger, that's causing all this. And if you want to prove you're better than he is-"

"-Stay out of my way."

"Just listen, it's the range." She forced herself to speak despite the icy threat his tone conveyed. "We just need to get more than one of us out of his range. I tried to attack him right after you went down, but I don't have enough power. But if you do it..."

"If you want to throw yourself at him be my ******* guest." His shoes and cane crunched over the ruined pathway, gaze locked ahead.

 _Did I just volunteer myself for a suicide run so that Accelerator of all people could save the day?_ Though some small part of her rebelled at this, the rest of Mikoto was just bewildered. Yet amazingly, her feet seemed to obey some higher power, and she was sprinting forward, already drawing electricity inwards for a titanic burst. Whether it was desperation, hope, duty, or some small act of defiance, railing against the world in the name of her purpose this night, Mikoto ran headlong towards the immovable wall, sparking wildly in the night.

"I may not be the first ranked, but-" Mikoto was close now, too close to stop, tongue tripping on her teeth. But the power could not be contained, and she rushed on with a battle cry. "-you can just CHEW ON-

-everything went dark.

But only for a moment; though momentarily overwhelmed and lapsing into unconsciousness, she still stood, and even managed to stumble her way to a stop. She had expected at the very least her attack would fail, and seeing as she had just ran through where Alexander once was, it clearly had.

"-T-this..."

What astonished her was the collateral damage.

The park was gone. Literally, if only for a few dozen meters in every direction. But not just leveled or burned like after a bombing run: there was only a rough hole in the landscape. In her anxiety driven delirium, she realized only then that it could not have been her. As she suspected, her opponent had evaded her attack but at the same instant his time power had ended, and her power spread outwards, vectors had crashed in from every angle. Every possible sense had been overwhelmed, such that her perception was clouded, but it had been horrific.

Only a thin stretch of the park's pathway remained, just enough to let her carry on her reckless charge. She stood there, where once level ground had become a cliff overlooking a chasm. The sky above was filled with a thick cloud of rapidly spreading dust and rock, breaking more than a few windows. And bizarrely, their emitters somewhere else, the holograms continued to dance and sing just above where the ground had been, more eerie now than festive. All together it was a level of carnage she had learned to associate with only the truly impossible. _Accelerator is a monster, but even he... This should..._

The monster himself stood on only other point of land remaining, a thin spire raising him up on a pedestal. And the girl could tell from the way he held his head it had not been a simple feat, and from the way he searched around carefully, scanning the pit. Almost as if he was looking for something.

Hands, clapping. "Wow..."

Mikoto's heart clamped down on her stomach, as if those hands were squeezing it shut.

Accelerator swore, loud and long, clenching his teeth.

"I didn't expect that kind of a show." Alexander sat upon an unbroken bench, resting handily just outside the circle of chaos. Behind him, holograms danced, blissfully unaware. "But now I know something new about my power, so thank you."

Accelerator eyes stabbed daggers at the emperor, but his scowl had turned into a grimace.

Mikoto felt the floor fall out from under her. _Do I see... Worry?  
_ But the moment passed.

"What utter shit. Even though your ability has a cool-down period, you're still able to just escape all that?"

"No, not that time. You got me! Felt myself coming apart. It felt..." Alexander shuddered. "Unique. I just learned something, that's all. I'd never tried used my power in reverse."

Neither the Railgun nor the Accelerator quite understood what he meant.

 _He doesn't just mean making his field bigger, and it doesn't sound like it lasted longer, so... If he normally makes a field that lets him internally stop time..._ "...You just rewound time inside it and walked away?"

"Not quite." This was Accelerator, stamping his foot. The entire pillar on which he stood slid towards Alexander, as Mikoto's slid to the outside. She nearly lost her footing but kept her eyes glued to the scene. "I hit you in there. So what the **** are you?"

"I'm the earlier me, that's all."

The implications were horrifying. "You just watched yourself die!?" Mikoto hadn't meant her shock to be so loud, but though she was removed from the two of them her voice was still heard.

"Yes. What?" Alexander asked her, genuinely confused as Accelerator stepped up before his seat. "I've killed tens of thousands, maybe more. My own death is just an interesting variation on a common theme. It doesn't matter: I'm still here."

"You don't value anything at all, do you?"

The words coming from the white-haired boy's lips seemed strange to Mikoto, unsuitably philosophic.

"Of course not." The concept of meaning itself having failed, the emperor stood, stretching. "But now I at least will have the chance to do something new with my power. That is a small victory against the world." He was surprisingly tall when not hunched over, but then he was leaning again, looming towards the first ranked of Academy City. Who did not quaver, but focused his gaze always forward.

It had been a while since Mikoto had felt so powerless. She had nothing to contribute, no-one to be in this undecided battle between titans. Yet the one thing she could always rely on, her mind, dredged up a surprising answer.

"Wait! Time may be a scalar quantity, but-"

"SHUT UP." Her shout was dwarfed by the solid wall of Accelerator's voice. It felt like the air itself had struck her with a mattress, and it bowled her over until she came to a graceless stop in a pile of snow. "Don't think I'm working with you, third rate." She sat up, only to be knocked flat. "I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP, SO DON'T SAY ANYTHING MORE."

 _Okay. He gets it._ For a moment, indignation surged over all her other emotions. _Why be such a jerk about it, though!?_ Then she thought again, dusting snow from her legs with trembling hands. _Oh right. He's him._

"Are we going to begin again now?"

"Not yet. You! Original." Accelerator's voice merely carried his time, a more gentler display of his power's amplification. "I don't care what you do or where you go. Just get out of my sight."

Unsure, Mikoto wavered on the edge, torn between fighting this obvious enemy and running for cover. But some new part of her stood up. It cried for attention, demanded something, though it took several second for the girl to realize what it was this small, growing piece of her wanted. It was surprising, somehow in her character, and yet the twin feelings of indignation and human connection were familiar to her in ways she could not quite name. And so, swallowing hard, she let her heart speak without the filter of her mind.

 _"_ _..._ I-I have a name, you ***hole!"

 _Well, ****. If he wins, great but I'm dead. But if he loses and this all goes wrong at least I've said it. Now why did I say it?_

Mikoto had already begun to turn, having planned to run as soon as she let herself speak, but even without the application of vectors she felt herself stunned motionless by the expression Accelerator wore.

Accelerator had whipped his head to stare at her, mouth agape, then blankly, then ranging a rapid variety of emotions before settling on a bemused scowl. "...So do I. *****."

 _...Whaaaaaaa? What what what what what what..._

That thought running endlessly through her mind, Mikoto ran.

!~~~~~~~~!

Accelerator watched her back longer than he intended, seeing the progenitor of his sins and salvation sprinting away after cussing him out. Somehow, despite the strangeness of reality and his own coming challenge and the overwhelming weight of his past, things still felt right.

"That your lover?"

"**** no." Accelerator snorted, loud and brash. "I killed her over ten thousand times."

Alexander was genuinely impressed, widening his eyes. "Nice." Then he narrowed his gaze, instantly bored again. "But you have some catching up to do."

"No."

The statement was simple and direct, much like the boy who spoke it.

"I won't catch up. I'm a real villain, unlike scum like you who have to kill and be killed to be feared. I just am."Accelerator let his expression of utter confidence weigh down on the emperor. "Whatever your powers, I have plenty of time. To erase you and do all that I can before I die."

The boy waited for some kind of reaction. At first, Alexander denied him the pleasure, meet the gaze levelly, bored. But soon he was just feigning boredom, and then he failed to even try that. "You think you can win still? I'm impressed. I haven't tried to sap your willpower yet, but I wonder if that'd work any better than one her?"

"It's not willpower or Esper ability. It's just me."

"Fine. Tell you what. I'm up for a challenge. Go ahead, try your tactic. I want to test myself, having experienced growth for the first time in a decade."

"It's simple. I just force you into that bubble of yours while stay on the outside, and then kill you when you come out."  
Alexander raised an eyebrow, a smoothly charming gesture. "Didn't you just try that?"

"I wasn't trying yet."

"Okay." Alexander shrugged, turning to walk away. "I'll oblige you. I'm curious."

Accelerator did not thank the emperor. He only waited until his opponent had reached a fair distance, turned back, and then vanished behind his power, the darkness returned.

Accelerator did not work quickly. His use of vectors was leisurely, almost careful: like someone getting on a bicycle for the first time in years, certain it will be safe but mindful all the same. It was an expression of his power rarely needed, rarely having a purpose. But now it spread out and embraced the impenetrable barrier of the timeless sphere, sinking around it tightly.

Several seconds passed, and then several more. Almost a minute was eaten up by the inexorable march of time.

But the blackness remained.

"Idiot. Enjoy your long duration Hell. Time isn't itself a vector, but time intervals are." Accelerator grinned maliciously, finally satisfied. "But I guess Aristotle never taught you that, you pathetic *******."

The snow had begun to softly fall again, after having been disrupted by the huge display of power from Academy City's strongest. Triumphant, Accelerator turned to walk away, seeking what he was already feeling was the true source of the evening's chaos, a power not quite fathomless to him. But he stopped, realizing something truly annoying.

The black sphere remained behind him, vast and unchanging. But only at his insistence. His hand trailed to his choker, turning down its output, but still he knew he had limited time. And until then, a worse fate befell him.

He dropped gingerly upon the bench the emperor had vacated. When not distracted, it was a simple task to shut out the annoying seasonal cheer emanating from the park. But now, locked into a constant effort against a distracting opponent, Accelerator realized it was not just Alexander who was trapped.

"I should have stayed home."

!~~~~~~~~!

9:19 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 2: a military storage and testing ground

The maze of containers finally had an end. Touma could see a clearing with a building just through a gap in the outer wall of containers, but that gap only admitted an arm and no more. He forced and pushed, but nothing budged.

 _Even if they were empty that'd be too much to hope for._ The boy searched for an alternative but knew he had only seconds before his glowing pursuers caught up. Yet the containers were just too tall to clamber up, sheer sides too slippery to climb. _But it's this or nothing!_

Turning back, he thought he saw a few glows begin to shine on the sides of containers. He spun and put his back to the wall of containers, leaning for support as he tried to plot an alternative.

Then suddenly one container moved under his weight.

But it only slipped for a second, and then crunched into the snow cover, stuck again. Moved just enough for hope.

Touma pushed and then tumbled through the opened gap, speeding away from the troublesome balls of light. Several times now they had been dispersed, and several times they had returned. He jogged ahead, trying to keep his breathing in check as he approached a large warehouse, centred in a clearing and ringed by a road for transport. With nowhere convenient to hide and no easy breaks in the barbed wire fencing, this facility bordering the streets outside seemed to the boy his best chance at flight. On the far wall multistory hanger doors stood like the gates of Jericho, but where Touma headed there was only a small, man sized portal leading to a hopeful getaway. So his heart sank as he tried the door and found it too locked and sturdy for his liking.

"Oh come on!" He wrenched on the handle and slammed the steel with his shoulder, but knew it was no use. "Couldn't this be the one time the guard's made a slip up, or been time so that the nightwatchmen came out to hear what all the commotion was!?" But no salvation arrived, no succor in the form of good luck.

In the four orbs crested the last line of containers, descending upon him without delay. They ringed him quickly, hovering as he tried to keep his eye on them all. But still, his flickering gaze caught a pulse of power, and a thick stream of flame raked the doorway and forced him to dive. As he rolled he raised Imagine Breaker and it rang out as a gust of wind threatened to knock him back into the red hot wall.

A _gh..._ The ache in his hand was minor, but worryingly constant. Comforting it with his other he eyed the blue orb's pulse and decided on rolling the way he came: the thick jet splashed and splattered and hissed and steamed as it soaked the heated structure. For a second, he and they were lost in the mist, cloyingly hot, and the building behind him groaned from the pressure. _I've got to get out of here before-_

The barely seen pulse through the drifting fog hinted at the boulder's approach, and it cut through the remaining shroud to shattered against the sound-proofed wall. Though it had been failing to perfectly deaden the battle before, it now had completely given up, paneling flaking off in thick ceramic plates. And then came another gout of fire, and then wind, and finally water to make more and more steam that flooded the field again.

"Sto-gack-stop that!" Though he had dodged them all, Touma was forced to breathe in the heat and moisture, choking if steeped in a stew pot. Yet the boy was forced to reflect on the one good thing the steam bought him. _Time to think._ _Those things are mindless... They don't care they are blocking their own attacks, like a dumb robot. I guess they are-_

But then Touma heard a screech and bang behind him.

He stumbled as he ducked, unready for the surprise attack, but nothing more came. He slowly realized that from their vaguely glowing outline orb's remained ahead, doing nothing but drift in slow, random patterns. It took a moment more for the steam to clear and the thick stress lines to become visible, webbing the surface of the wall and door like stomped ice. He stared stupidly at it.

 _...Wait!_ He turned back to the orbs, shouting loudly as he leaped up before the door. "Nevermind, keep doing it! Keep-!"

The boulder came nearly too fast, but barely it dented the door rather than his face.

Touma made to retreat again, ready for fire as the orbs came into sight like colourful moons behind drifting clouds, but hesitated. _If I move now...!_ A last second delay meant the stream of oncoming fire his the door square again, and it glowed incandescent. Now safely dodged, the next cutting edge of wind was rung of existence by Imagine Breaker.

"Agh, jeez!" But even as he waved his hand gingerly, he smiled. _Now-_

He crossed the door again, timing the water spout: it carved across the door frame, which with a sickening crack seemed to implode. The sound nearly blew out Touma's ears along with the steam, but he quickly refocused his gaze on the warped wreckage of the once sturdy door, cooling now but hanging handily on the remains of one hinge. He scrambled through the gap before a burst of wind could slice him up, but before he shielded himself behind the twisted steel he granted himself a look backwards.

Striding atop the last wall of containers was Solomon, still imperiously following at a leisurely pace.

 _Time to go!_ Touma sprinted as further attacks knocked against the door, stupidly caving in the exit even more. A few office doors lined the ten foot hall he passed through, but they fell by the way side as the building opened up into one, gigantic room. Realizing the automatic nature of their attacks was buying him time, Touma ran through his options more thoroughly. _I can run, I can hide, or I can fight. So..._

At first glance, there were several other entrances along the outer wall of the chamber, but none lead reliably to freedom. Still he continued at a jog into the middle large testing hanger, through gaps in a large rough oval that of the same containers from outside, ringing an inner zone of testing equipment and prototypes. Vehicles, weapons, missile launchers, lasers, and all sorts of things he couldn't even conceive of: these all he was ready to find and utilize. But instead...

"Monorails!?" He held his head in despair. "But we have all sorts of those already and they must be perfect, why are they testing more here of all places!?" His moaning did no good: the random stretches of test tracks and prototype carriages did not transform into something more useful. [2] _Well, with option three out, I'll go with one._ Breaking into another dash as the hallway behind him rumbled, Touma did not think to look up.

Something crashed through the heavy metal roofing with one solid punch, slamming down to dent the steel flooring several feet before the boy. He rolled back with the shock-wave, shouting in surprise as he bounced for a rolling cart and slid into a computer console, propped up by sheer chance against its side. When he blinked the shock clear he saw Solomon kneeling before him, purple robe fluttering lazily; from below his feet a green light died, just before the ring of the same shade sparkled. He raised his chin, revealing a calm expression. "My djinns may be mindless, but I am not."

If he was expecting some word play from Touma he was disappointed, for the boy scrambled to his feet, grasping the cart with both hands and pushing it forward with a battle cry. It rocked on a bad wheel but still served to shield him from a stream of boulder that materialized with a wave of the king's hand. But before Touma could close the distance, Solomon was retreating, his leaping bounds accelerated by rocks launching up beneath his feet.

He landed atop a container of the outer ring, and raise his hands and face to the roof. "Rise Djinns, and serve me!" The banging of the three from outside halted. "A good effort, but you cannot not destroy my fallen djinns without touching their cores." They coalesced now by his side, forming over several seconds. "And you will not be allowed close enough to strike my rings... Where did you go?"

Touma only allowed himself a brief glimpse of the king's expression as he cowered inside a monorail car, crouched beside a seat. _Okay, I've avoided worse than his attacks. I just have to manipulate his expectations then come at the right angle. But... I may only have one shot. And I can't afford to hang around here long._

It was with every increasing worry that he saw the orbs of light spread out again, fans through the chamber, gazing with unseen eyes every way. It would be an increasingly dangerous run to break out now, so he waited, hoping their game-like pathing would open up an escape route. He did not have long to wait.

"I say! You there!" An imperious female voice shouted. The orbs halted. "Come down this instant!"

 _...Oh no._

"Yes, you up there! Stand down, villain, or face my wrath!" Touma raised his head just in time to watch as Kongou strode out from behind a separate opening, bristling with confidence as she waved her fan like a monarch. "Oohohoh, unless you are feeling brave enough to challenge me?"

Solomon stared at her with open confusion. "Are you not a child? Why are you here? Ah, wait. You are that girl from before." Now he narrowed his eyes, adopting a stern expression. "Did I fail to remove you thoroughly enough, or do you need a more direct reason to flee for safety?"

"I have nothing to fear from you!" The girl proudly puffed out her chest, flickering her hair so that it cascaded around her shoulders. "I am a Level 4, and I do not run from those who attack others."

"You are a fool, but at least a confident one." Touma ducked back down as the man moved, but he could hear his feet slapping against the steel flooring.

 _Crap she's gonna die if I don't get out there!_ But the distance between him and the oncoming battle was too wide; if he moved at the wrong time he would be exposed to attacks from all angles. _If I want to protect her I have to time this just right..._ So he snuck out of the carriage again, listening as well as he could to the continuing debate.

"I've seen your abilities, and though varied, your wind is no match for my Aero hand!"

In the sky, Touma heard a faint fizzle; the whitish dull light faded and died, shrinking in on itself.

"We shall see." Touma heard a rush of wind, willing himself faster, even as the globes slowly moved further from his spot. With terror he listened for a slice and cry, but instead he was greeted with a huge crash and the sound of twisting metal.

A cart fell to pieces as it flew through the room, crashing into an outer wall just within Touma's view. He rounded the corner and saw their fight clearly, coming up at angle behind Kongou as she faced down the ancient king.

Solomon mused as he turned to inspect the damage of her counter. "Hmm. More power, but less versatility? I see you need to touch whatever you enchant."

"Yes, but I see you have limits also. Perhaps you should withdraw your blue... S-sphere, thing, next, and try that out, why don't you?" Her bluster flagged as her flowery locution failed her, yet still she seemed confident, tapping her fan against several potential projectiles.

But she and Touma were both surprised when Solomon only shook his head. "I was not trying to kill you. There is no room in me for senseless slaughter. I only ever do what I must."

"A sentiment I share, you vile fiend. But my words stand behind my actions, for I only wish to protect." For a girl speaking in such colourful phrases, Touma felt himself impressed by the determination on her brow. "Do your worst."

"If I must," The King's eyes dipped in sadness, but only for a moment. "I will."

The remaining spheres departed this world, imploding softly. But this time, Touma saw they streamed in thick wisps towards their master, as a subtle light flickered in his rings. The blue one on his left hand glowed as he raised it, but Touma delayed no more.

He shouted aloud, beginning a sprint to knock the girl aside. "NOOOOOOooooow!?" But his cry turned to a question along side her own mirrored yell. At that instant the jet of water from his ring spirally closed then abruptly curving in the air, slapping the King full in the face. He tumbled onto his back, sputtering and coughing as Touma skidded to Kongou's side. But his deceleration was reversed as she took hold of his good hand and dragged him outside the inner ring.

"Hold him here, girls! I will return!"

The other two girls zoomed out from a second gap: Awatsuki carried the smaller Wannai in her arms as they slid across the hangers, avoiding obstacles like a slaloming skier.

"Misaka-sama is wrapped up in this too, right?"

"So we'll help her by getting you to her! Go!"

Whipping water from his beard, gritting his teeth. "... Who did that-Wahargharble!?" The water flung back into his mouth and he cursed in watery Yiddish, trying to force his it away.

"Oops, I meant that for your eyes! Sorry!" Wannai's hands danced as her Hydro Hand lead the string of water through the air, looping it around his head again and again.

"Gaaah, you test my patience." A ring flashed red, and a burst of fire and heat blew most of a moisture away. "I am not here for you girls. It is only he, and the other girl, that I must incapacitate. I am sorry to put this burden upon you, but you really should leave hiiim-!?" A thin puddle he had ignored on the ground proved a strangely slippery surface.

"Ahah, gotcha! Water under the effect of my Float Dial is a little viscous, isn't it?" Awatsuki winked as the girl's slid past the Kongou and a very surprised Touma, peering out from a crack in the containers. "We can handle this for a bit!" Still dazed he watched them go, but was pulled back into cover.

"Uhhwah, uh, you can fight?" _I can hardly believe it but look at them skating around him like that!_ "But you shouldn't know about anything like this, how, why?"

"We were helping all along! Awatsuki-san kept us clinging behind the containers, and then helped you move the box aside! And then Wannai-san stopped the water from his orb's first attack! We hid and planned and now are ready to take over." Somehow, Kongou managed to puff out her cheeks and purse her lips at the same time. "We are proudly Tokiwadai girls, just like Misaka Mikoto!"

 _How can she still talk like that?_ Touma, still trying to catch up to events, rubbed his head. "Sorry, guess I just thought she was kinda special, I never really cared about her school or what her education was..."

She deflated quickly, turning red. "...Oh m-my." She snuck a furtive glance back to her friends, then leaned in close to whisper. "Uhm... Please, can I ask quickly: what do you think of her?"

"Special?" Touma blushed, suddenly seeking a getaway. "D-Didn't I just say that?"

"I suppose you did." She shook her head, but pressed on, trapping him against the container. "Please listen to me. We used to have pretty normal lives, but things change. I, we, have accepted that. I used to be just another spoiled brat." Touma's sense of the atmosphere had rapidly changed, and he found himself listening closely. "But normal isn't going to come any more, things always change. And when it happened, Misaka Mikoto helped us, and asked for our help in turn. And now, we're going to help you." The girl smiled, and it carried some of the level 5's confidence with it. "It's what she'd do, after all."

"...Yeah." Touma could only nod, wondering why the face had appeared in his mind. "But look, it's not like what you seem to be-"

"She is far too good to be hanging around you, you know. Whether a common man like you can appreciate it or not!" She turned to rejoin the battle, but this time it was Touma who cornered her.

"Now we're REALLY off the rails! Whoa no no, look, now I know this isn't the time-" Another splash, a crash, and series of Yiddish curses echoed through the hanger. "-but I should clarify that..." _The brooch. The room._ "...She kinda just left and we're not-"

"No." Kongou had turned sharply back. Her face said everything it needed to, but she spoke anyway. "She is not one to turn her back on those she cares about. Not ever."

Touma had no answer for that. So he only nodded, mutely.

"And even after saying that, for her sake, we'll not turn our backs on you!" She gave him a playful slap, but it his rather harder than she intended, sending him careening into an exit door. "Now go find her, favoured suitor! And do not tell her you said that!"

It turned out this was the door that had been left unlocked by the watchman. Touma fell out into the streets, reeling as he fought to stop, and return to help. But it swung shut, and clicked happily into place.

No amount of banging could interrupt the fight now. His fist slid down in frustration, but finally he just took a deep breath and stepped back.

"...I just have to hope they can do it." He took off down the street at a jog. "But man, that was weird." He took a moment to examine his winter jacket, now even more scraped and scratched. "And this isn't even a suit... I think."

So he utterly failed to notice the approach of the talon's before they sunk into his shoulder.

!~~~~~~~~!

"I suppose now I understand who she was referring to as 'that Idiot' all this time..." Kongou's fashionable winter shoes sneakers gripped the wet steel well enough that she easily stopped once she reached the arena, but she had to step back to avoid the rapid passing of her friends.

"Ooh, s-sorry!" Wannai recoiled as her water slapped Solomon across the face, sending him spirally once again before he could speak.

"Don't apologize, he's the bad guy!" Awatsuki shook her head, and shook the girl she carried for good measure.

"Sorry, it was instinct, we've only hit robots before and he's an elder, sorry-"

"Stop apologizing!"

"Sorry my friends. I had to see him off."

"I thought I sai-Oh, Kongou-san!" The girl realized her mistake, and slid her and Wannai over to the level to regroup. "No, it's okay, we are fine."

"Very good. Now that I am here, we can get serious." She smiled confidently.

"So can I."

Flames erupted in a brutal ring. Water on the floor sizzled and disappeared, but the rushing wave met a quickly raised globule that floated before the girls, absorbing the heat just long enough for them to duck behind a test console. The wave passed, and three heads poked up in meerkat-like sequence.

Solomon stood in a circle of scorch marks, the nearby equipment forever ruined. He panted, but more from withheld anger than exhaustion. The ruby burned brightly on his fist, though already its light dimmed.

"Excellent timing, Wannai-san!" Kongou tried to keep the alarm from her voice. "Very very excellent!"

"I still do not intend to kill you, children. But if you insist, I will take you seriously."

"Well." The head of the trio thought there was only one thing to say to that. "Have you been seeing any patterns, girls? Weaknesses?"

Both girls nodded, but only Awatsuki spoke. "Yes, and I think we can handle him."

"Very good. That is all I need to hear." "Then let us have a battle we can talk about later!"

!~~~~~~~~!

Touma cried out, flailing.

Songbird just shrieked.

Her claws released just before his left hand caught her bird-ankle. If she had intended to raise him up into the sky neither got very far, instead swinging sideways as she struggled to maintain flight in her fright. They slammed into a wall covered in more sound-negating panels together, falling into an undignified heap. As Touma scrambled for safety, he came face to face with an open beak.

Touma opened his mouth again.

Songbird's had never closed.

But thankfully, the shrieking stopped, and he was able to disengage and stagger several feet away.

Finally the woman's beak snapped shut.

"W-w-w-why they Hell were YOU shrieking!?"

Her trembling slowed, and she squinted.

"Seriously, what was the plan!? Scare me to death!? That already failed once tonight, you know!?"

Now the woman tilted her head, shaking it in confusion.

 _Oh, right._ "The wall, get over here, away from it!" He gestured with a wave, and surprisingly she did as he bid, perking up slightly when her hearing was restored.. "Oooh, that is better... What a strange-"

"WHY!?"

"Aaaaah!" She cowered as he shouted, flinching back near the wall.

"Why even try to do that if you're just going to get scared!?"

"Aaah! No, n-no, I wasn't scared!" She pleaded with him, but her eyes told a different story. "It was... A battle cry!"

"No it wasn't! I know about all kinds of scared cries, trust me, and that's the one you give when you're thinking 'oh no, my sure-fire plan that will definately work has just been immediately defeated'!" _Wait._ "Hold on, were you going to fly up with me and then drop me? When I could just grab your leg with Imagine Breaker at any time!?"

"I didn't... Think of that-"

"...How? What?" Touma nearly felt sorry for her. "Why?"

"I had to do something! I cannot leave my ally to face you alone!" Her finger flew out in a vicious point, loose feathers flying. "When he reported you had landed I had to have my revenge for my honour!"

 _Great. Out of the fire, into... I don't know, the rice cooker I guess._ "Okay, well that's great, but can you quickly just explain what they are?"

"The plans?" She blinked, then squinted her eyes, struggling to remember. "Oh, right... Well, it's nearly done. We've already placed our markers, and now are clearing the area around the Dianoid to..." She paused, growing silent.

Touma waited. Then leaned closer.

"AAAAH! Insidious one!"

"Ggggh, stop shrieking!" He flinched back, holding his ears.

"Stop making me reveal our plots!" Now the poor girl was nearly in tears. "I, I'm just trying to help fix things, okay!?" She sniffled, a strange sound through a beak. "I, I, I thought I could finally relax once I came back and it would all be better after all the terrible things I had to do but now things are so confusing and the cities are even bigger and noisier and I don't know if what I'm doing is right and, and, and-!"

 _Aw, geez._ "Look, please, that's not... I get it, trust me, all about fixing things!" The boy looked around, searching in panic for somebody else to foist this problem onto. Astoundingly, he a saw a somewhat tallish girl, standing several feet away, holding her hand to her chest. Her face was shadowed, but since she was looking this way she was good enough for Touma's needs. "Hey, miss, sorry, but can you help me here...?"

"Uhm... Hello, Kamijou-kun... W-wait, please stay there, or back away just a little please, just in case!"

After searching his memory, there was only one girl he could imagine saying that to him so politely. _And for a very specific, Imagine Breaker related reason._ He obeyed, retreating a step, giving room for a girl with long brown hair and a timid expression to step forward.

His impression was right."Kazakiri? But I thought you couldn't..." He sought for, and failed to find, the word materialize. "...Show up normally, what's going on? Oh, and hi." He waved sheepishly, a little lost, then shifted his hand to behind his back.

"I do not really know... Sorry..." Her face warred between the joy of seeing a friend, a terrible amount of worry. "Oh. But I do know that things are becoming very odd, here and in the Imaginary Number district. I felt that I could manifest thanks to some peculiar variables, so I did... Is that okay?"

"Well yeah, of course! It's good to see you. I'll have to..." Touma's face grew grave. "Index is in trouble."

"Oh no, not again!" The AIM being, artificial angel and sweet-hearted girl, expressed pure horror followed quickly by determination. "I, I'll help! I have to!" Tears began to well up in her eyes as emotion threatened to overwhelm her.

Touma smiled, heart eased a little. "Thanks. We'll need it."

"Mmhm." Kazakiri nodded fiercely, trying to blink back the teardrops, but finally diverted her gaze from Touma and his hand. "Ah, and who is this? Is she helping too?"

Touma looked around, before remembering the only other person present.

"No...!" Somehow her beak conveyed the notion of a face falling as she shook it vigorously. "I'm... I'm not...!"

"Ah, this is Songbird."

"H-hello." Kazakiri sniffed a little, wiping a hand across her eyes.

"...Y-yes, greetings." Songbird did much the same, though with feathers included.

The two girls looked at each other.

"...Say, Kazaikiri-san..."

"Yes?"

"Do you think an esper power that makes people sleep would work on you?"

The girl paused, giving the question thought. "Well, that's a difficult question, but supposing it works through physical means and not quantum, I should think it wouldn't. Why?"

"Great." _If it worked once..._ "Can I ask you look after Songbird for me? Thanks, that'd be a great help."

"Oh, if it'll help Index, of course!"

"Wait...!" The woman known as Songbird protestations became weaker and weaker as she devolved into helplessness. "Imagine...! Don't... You leave...!" If a bird could feel despair, it was visible on the woman's beak, her eyes filled with emotion.

"Oh, Kamijou-kun!" Though Touma had already turned to leave, Kazakiri called him back, bringing a brief surge of live into the wilting woman. "I should tell you. I noticed the pattern of disruptions seems to be a dodecagon!"

"Ah... Okay?"

"Think of a clock face a few kilometers around, if that helps. And it's centred around that big, tall, pointy building where all the shopping is..."

Touma wondered, then put the pieces together with a groan. _At least it's not happening IN the place again._ "...Okay. I think I know the city well enough to figure out a route." _East through the rest of 2, then up into 7. Home territory._ "And judging from the way these guys work, I should find something obvious pretty fast." He turned to run again, waving behind him. "Thanks, Kazakiri-san!"

"Good luck, Touma! I'm rooting for you!" The girl waved back, shouting as brightly as she could.

"No... My... Vengeance... Plans..." Songbird whimpered mournfully, then choked back a squawk. "E-e-everything's just gone wrong!"

"Oh my!" Kazakiri looked down, alarmed. "What's wrong?"

Songbird turned her beak upwards, sniffed once. Then broke out in tears, wailing piteously.

"...Oh my."

!~~~~~~~~!

9:27 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 13: An Alley in District 15

"Come out, little blonde boy..."

The voice echoed eerily through against the walls.

"Your paper can cut me... Pierce me..."

It was muffled by the snow but still carried clearly.

"But it will take much, much more than that..."

His low laugh rumbled off the cold concrete, seeming to follow the twists and turns of the purple smog that coiled through and around garbage and the rubble of neglected buildings. It was at atop the latter, hidden behind a broken fridge door, that a certain frustrated spy shuffled through his origami papers with one hand.

"What a perfectly matched enemy, this Rasputin." He eyed the few pieces of orange paper her had left, but the one he had fired had left a hole which had rapidly been filled.[3] "He's got healing abilities all right, and better than mine. Even if he wasn't a quirk of nature he could cast Magic and survive. I'm a little-agh... Jealous."

Even muttering proved a painful, and he raised his hand from his side; a large, brown bruise was spreading under the skin, an artery burst much sooner than he could afford. Though knowing it wouldn't kill him, it meant he likely did not have many more chances to use a spell without fatal backlash of his own. Unsure if pressure points would work on a Summon, or even if any of his expertly trained martial arts would make much difference, Tsuchimikado felt his options running out one by one as he considered them.

He breathed in as deeply as his wound allowed, and sighed. "His bad luck must be rubbing off on me." Then he stood, and set out to make the best of it as the creeping purple fog encroached from all sides.

!~~~~~~~~!

9:28 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District Unknown, Undisclosed Control Centre

"Input One. A third party has entered into the equation."

Kihara Raito glowed the same colour as his holograms, so immersed was he in virtual displays. Maps and charts and graphs and essays of all kinds spun around his head, but he was most focused on a pair of pictures.

"Input Two. This third party, after air dropping into the city on a registered air-craft, have engaged the group of odd summons at multiple locations. Input Three..."

The two boys looked familiar enough to warrant a check in the system, and sure enough his remarkable memory proved correct. The two profiles swam with what little information he could retrieve, all too little, which meant only one things.

"Input Three, they appear to be the tools of the Chairman. Hmmm."

The scientist considered their frozen faces for a moment, then shrugged.

"Output One: Leave them be, unless they directly interfere with my own actions. Hear that, Aleister?" He turned up his chin, speaking to the ceiling if no one else. "If you want to get the hands of your puppets dirty, by all means. I'll not bother you. Though I do plan to borrow another one to protect myself. I hope you don't mind. No, just let that Level 0 run where he may."

Instead he turned his attention to the growing file of strange data that was growing into an alarming picture. However, it was only alarming in the sense that it triggered sensitive equations and formulas to indicate that something very, very important to the scientist was involved. It did not truly alarm him at all.

A smile slunk across his face like a snake.

"In fact, I suppose this will only clarify matters."

!~~~~~~~~~!

[1] This place does not exist in canon, but seeing as the school district is known for art and holograms, this only makes sense. I might end up revisiting this place and give its initial description more depth than I previously have.

[2] It turns out that a single spoken command would transform them into a rail-based mobile defense platform. Pity he never tried. In all seriousness, this isn't something too unexpected given we're in Academy City.

[3] This was the attack he used against Terra of the Left, way back in the Old Testament, but it was never named there, and I'm not about to make up one now. Frankly, all of his Origami Magic is a little hard to understand... Even the nomenclature gets me.


	68. Part 3: Chapter 11

**Welcome back, readers. I don't really have much to add from last time; things are just moving along now. Oh, also 100000 total views to the story. Huh. I mean, I expect that most of those are just people loading to the first chapter whenever a new update comes along, or repeated views for one reason or another, but I like numbers, especially when digits are added. It's fun.**

 **Chapter 11**

9:31 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 2: Near the border with District 7

As a Certain Unfortunate Boy jogged through the city streets, steps carefully paced, he contemplated his circumstances.

 _I have no idea where anyone is, no one is answering their cell-phones, and I see nothing strange happening._ Aside from a pair of security officers who gave him dangerous looks as he passed by with a nervous wave, his travel through the district had been solitary. The night was even more quiet than he was used, thanks to the district's special sound proofing, leaving his thoughts to echo loudly in his skull. _So that means I have no plan. I don't even know where to start looking, really. I just wish she were here, I'm sure-_

"No, no, stop!" Touma shook his head roughly, forcing it into alignment with his wishes. "Come on, it can't be that hard to avoid thinking about this sort of thing, I do it all the time! There's nothing different!"

Whether his brain agreed or not, he began to walk, indecision threatening to take over. _Just keep following a rough circle... It'd help if I knew exactly where the centre was, or why the circle Kazakiri mentioned even mattered, I can't just wander the whole city all night, it's too big. Speaking of which, I'd really appreciate some transportation of some kind. There are no bikes to borrow, the buses aren't running here this late..._ There streets were so empty, he couldn't even pray for a piggy-back ride. "Such misfortune."

So on he walked, picking back up into a jog at the insistence of his anxiety. _Gotta keep going, if I don't I never find..._ "Wait, that's it! I'll just focus on how worried I am. Yeah, okay, that'll... But what about her and- No no no, that's not a good idea either. Maybe..."

He frowned as the buildings slowly passed him by, with the occasional lit room being a rare exception to the darkness. Though the sky had seemed overcast when he landed it seemed to be clearing up. _Must be good for the fireworks I heard we're supposed to get. I wonder if they're cancelled from all this..._ "Say, would she enjoy those? I mean it's not electricity but-DAMN IT!"

Touma's boots skidded and slipped on the ice, but he was too frustrated to curse the weather. "Aaaggh, I can't focus!?" He gripped his hair with both hands, all but wrenching and pulling. "What is this? I've been rejected too many times in my mind for this to be a thing I'm dealing with, I've practiced more than any one!"

There was only one course of action.

"Okay, fine! I'll just face it head on!" His determined expression settled into something a touch more tragic. "...Oh man. What the Hell am I going to do-?" He started; realized that his hand had felt around for the lump stashed in pocket. Though he quickly pulled away, it remained at an angle, jabbing softly into his side. "...What do I even say? 'Oh hey, you dropped this in my room, anyway see ya'. Or maybe 'look, don't worry, how about we just, go back, to you shocking and me running...'"

The night air grew colder.

 _I miss her that much?_

More than anything, Touma was confused. Not confused in the way that a problem in class might vex him, or even confused in the sense that he was struggling to find a counter to an enemy's attack. He was confused about what exactly he was feeling.

 _I mean, I RAN from her back then. Do I really want to go back to that?_

As he stood, he saw the stars, steadfast lights in the sky. Reminding him of the stars in London, or the snowflakes that fell above them in the whole of the stolen Dianoid, and suddenly in a rush all the little moments before and in between.

 _...No. I don't want to go back to that._

 _So what do I want?_

It was an unfamiliar question. Usually wants lined up neatly with actions, informed by impulsive responses to stimuli and the direction of his heart. But today he had time to think. And to remember what he realized when he had woken to that sight in his temporary room in St. George's Cathedral, to remember how guilty her felt; to close his eyes and sigh.

 _Never mind, I guess._ He shrugged, shuffling his stiff shoulders. "Well, it's too late to change the past, like Othinus said. I just wish I knew what to do in the fu-"

"Are you praying to me or speaking to me?" The voice came from the folds of his hood. "By that I mean, should I answer or ignore you?"

"Oh!" He began to walk again as he twisted his neck. "Othi-chan, you were being quiet. I nearly forgot about you."

"How dare." She made a soft hissing sound, then pointedly turned her face away. "After your failure with the parachute I decided I needed to compose myself."

"Little sick, huh? I know that feeling from whe-"

"Did I ask for your condescension? I am a God, you know. Back to sleep I go, then." But Touma could tell behind her bitter tone was a feeling a familiarity, the warmth of knowing you could argue and still get along. Though painful in one sense, in another it was sweet relief.

 _Heh. What I am, getting all jealous about. I've got allies still. Even friends._ He perked up a little, forcing a smile as he took of at light jog. _And I've got my imagination still to rely on. What I need is some good old-fashioned comfort... Yeah, a matronly type. Ooh, of course, dorm-manager onee-san! My right hand, my right hand for a shoulder to cry onto!_

He realized that a woman was standing right in his path. He stopped as fast as he could, unsure how she had got there but only managing to halt a few feet before her. Though the light was bad, he thought he recognized the face.

"...Not the type I waaaAAAAAAAAAGGGHHH-"

The arm which had reached out to grasp him pulled hard, harder than possible, harder that he could conceive. But what he could conceive was the ground stretching away below his fluttering feet as she yanked him on a sudden flight. But it truly was a jump for they were already descending fast, slamming into pavement with a crunch that rattled his bones. They had landed in a largish clearing, a parking lot or depot of some kind, but the specifics were the last thing on his mind. For now he had placed the short, stock woman, with her close cropped hair and dazzling, star-crossed eyes. All eight points seemed to be locked onto him. Her armor had changed from before, thicker now and brassy, but it slowed her down not at all.

"...Was p-p-picturing." She dropped him, and he scuttled as far away as he could on his rear. "Uh... Hello, Miss Joan of Arc ma'am."

The Saint stared at him carefully then drew her sword in one quick motion. It was pointing at his nose before he could even blink.

"Tell me everything you know." Touma was too scared to even breathe, but she leaned closer with dire intent. "Where is she?"

!~~~~~~~~!

9:32 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 9, Near the border with District 7

 _I'm hearing nothing behind me. That's a good sign, right?_

Though it was difficult enough to hear while whipping through the air, it was even more difficult to imagine the fight she left behind being quieter than an explosion. Yet the district was quiet, almost serene. Below her holograms dancing on the streets and above her they floated in the sky, projected from one building to another. They all emitted a faint electromagnetic buzz, and consequently a small headache.

 _Another reason I don't come here very often. But today I can make an exception._ She glanced at her phone again; the signal continued, but she noticed something strange. It appeared to be pulsing more often, blinking more rapidly, than the others. _Odd. That wasn't part of the program before. Let me just check inside..._

She stopped to do so, balancing on a wavering street light, and quickly confirmed her suspicions. _Son of a gun. Whoever is manipulating the program is just trying to make it more visible and urgent. What, are they in some kinda hurry now?_ Even as she fumed, she noticed another surprise connection, with a much more obvious edit. A secondary marker appeared, still in the district, but this time coloured bright red and much larger, pulsing in a broad area that included the first. _Now who the Hell is..._

She realized the line traced back to District 21 and the mountain tops just as the phone rang. Only somewhat startled, Mikoto closed the program and held the device to her ear.

"Misaka-sama! I've sent you what I discovered." For some reason Uiharu's voice was full of static, but it still conveyed her bright optimism. "I have only been able to determine which junction server it originates from, as they have top level access to super computer encryption."

"Hmmm." _This isn't a small catchment area._ "Is this all I have to work with?"

"Oh, no. It'll just take me time to be more precise, that's all. But I thought I should warn you how dangerous this might be." A flurry of keystrokes commenced. "I can only do so much so quickly without my own equipment, but perhaps you could use your power to track him more directly?"

She imagined the area displayed again, but her thoughts kept being drawn to the first signal. "...I will, but first things first."

"Really? Don't you want to go after the hacker instead? This first signal could be a trap."

"Maybe I'm playing into their hands, but even so, I know the threats are real. For good or bad, I can't let rampaging invaders carry on freely. Some hacker with too much time on their hands will have to wait." Mikoto kicked off the post with magnetic acceleration, but not so fast the wind cut through her voice. "Besides, they haven't really lead me astray; they are just feeding me data, that's all."

"Okay, but I will keep monitoring their connection. Be careful, Misaka-sama; Saten-san has figured out how to get to her forums and she's been mentioning some really odd rumours. Like ancient warriors doing armed robbery, weird purple smog, that old one about clones of you..." Mikoto hoped Uiharu missed her sudden cough. "What exactly is going on tonight?"

 _Them again? Now of all times?_ "I-I don't really know myself." _And that's only somewhat of a lie._ "You all be careful too: you've got one of those rumours up there yourselves."

"Roger. Uiharu out."

Mikoto blinked, and the line went dead. _That was surprisingly professional._ But rather than dwell on it she thrust herself higher into the sky, and switched on the program once again. _Well, great. If my sisters are in trouble too... Or maybe this is just one of those things: when a bunch of new rumours start popping up old ones resurface too... I can only hope._

The display finished loading. The same map of District 9 appeared, mostly covered by the red signal, but along its outer edge and the south eastern border with District 7, the first signal remained.

 _I'm actually pretty close. Let's kick into a higher gear._ She gathered her power and pushed, one final thrust and swing launcher her into the approximate are. But she noted with surprise that it was somewhat familiar, even in this district she rarely visited. _It's the gateway?_

As the official border between School Districts 7 and 9, it stood out as an unofficial barrier, where groups of students from one would either avoid or meet at to hang out or argue. And since it was controlled by District 9, it was inevitably a tool to display with pride their differences. Though other streets led to smaller avenues of entrance, the main gateway was much more than a gate, and yet much less at the same time.

While there was a wall and gateway running between the buildings of one District to the next, it was an illusion. More specifically it was a hologram, make up of advertisements and propaganda for the schools and businesses inside. Ostentatious during the night, in daytime it was also loud, playing bright tunes and catchy slogans. But past the facade an even deeper illusion waited, painted over a large, open stretch of smooth white floor. While Mikoto and even the more sharp-eyed of the Level 4 Electromasters could see the truth, to all others it seemed to be whatever it was programmed, a massive walk-in holographic exhibit. Sometimes it held art, sometimes technical displays, other times both, and still other times seasonal decorations. The floor could even be raised and lowered in portions and panels and structures, creating a solid backing behind whatever was being emitted.

Given the holiday, Mikoto was not surprised to see it seemed to display countless clocks and other wintry visions, but something about the layout further caught her attention. "It's a maze? Who on earth would make it a maze?" But her rushed assessment seemed true, and once she landed atop a nearby building she saw how much so. Dozens of students seemed to be wandering inside, laughing at the displays or searching for an exit.

 _Not the most prudent use of a major thoroughfare, but I guess... Wait._ Under the illusions, she saw as section of wall slide up silently, and another slide down. _A labyrinth? No, that's be too much._ Only part of it was shifting, a small section, and Mikoto focused her gaze to the anomaly.

Within the pathways strode a woman, dressed in all black and holding her arms close against the cold, twisting her head down three pathways offered her. She set off left at once, but Mikoto could see from her vantage the change in direction as the maze accommodated her choice, and routed her back to where she had been. It was strange, but Mikoto could tell that her section and her section alone seemed to have a projected roof over it; the illusion would not have held up in the daytime with the sun shining through, but for now it had very effective convinced someone they were trapped. The level 5 grinned for the first time in a while.

"Well well. Maybe our hacker is friendly after all. I've finally caught up to you."

!~~~~~~~~!

9:35 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 7: near the border with District 2

The fear went as quick as it came. In its place there was a familiar pain, but also something else; something extra. Joan clearly noticed the change, stiffening her stance. Touma just stared down the Gemstone Saint Magician, who could kill him in a heartbeat, and spoke.

"You'll just have to kill me. Even if I knew I wouldn't tell you where Mikoto is."

Now came the planning; there were no obvious tool around, but a frozen over sewer gutter might serve as a very temporary shelter if it wasn't frozen over. _But how can I get there before... And even if I could she'd just dig me out like a-_

"Oh. _Excusez moi_." The sword wavered, pointedly regaining his attention. "I should have clarified. I meant... Uhm..." Joan or Arc let her gaze drift away. "You know."

Though not quite allowing himself the luxury of thinking the woman was distracted enough for a getaway, Touma realized something was going strangely right. _Why do I feel like I'm not going to die?_ "...Know what?"

"No, who."

"Know who?"

" _Oui,_ you-know-who." Know her free hand brushed through her hair, just one on one side of her head, and she was entirely avoiding his questioning eyes.

"...No? I don't know?"

"The Saint, the other Saint!" Though she should not be feeling the cold, Joan's cheeks flushed red. "With the long, gorgeous hair. You know!"

Almost more than anything else, Touma was surprised he did. "...Kanzaki?"

The blade whipped back so fast the wind of it nearly laid him flat. "Show more respect! She's practically divine, _comprendez vous_!?"

"Yeah yeah yeah Kanzaki Kaori-sama, yup!" He nodded as vigorously as the sword's tip would allow. "W-well, why would she be here? I haven't seen her, I promise!"

"But this should not be." The sword wavered again, but Joan's eyes were arresting. "She from Japan, _n'est-ce pas_?"

Touma nodded again, but more carefully now, as carefully as he planned his phrasing. "Yeah, but. She works in England. So. She's probably... Still there?"

The pause dragged on longer than either would have liked.

"...AAAAH, _zut alors_!" The blade carved a neat furrow in the ground, gravel scattering behind Joan as she spun, slicing several more slashes and growling ferally. Touma took this chance to slide back several feet but had to stop when she came running back, lifting and shaking him by his coat. "Why is she not here? Where is she now? Why do you not know!?"

"AACK-GACK-GCCK-"

The ground knocked our what little air remained in him, but still Touma fought to watch as Joan stepped away, wailing now. "Oh, was it too much to hope she would come here? Why did I let myself... My heart, a milk-maid's heart, yet, oh!"

And then the Saint fell to her knees. Not quite sniffling, but altogether too close for the boy with Imagine Breaker to feel comfortable with. He swallowed, checked the nearest exits, then despite all rational judgment stepped just a little closer to her.

"Hey, uh... It's okay." _...I'm going to regret this, but..._ "Maybe she just hasn't heard yet?"

"You... You really think so?" Without the intensity, Joan looked more normal than he had ever seen her; just another person with a person's problems. "Do you think that, maybe, she has... Forgotten me?"

"Are you kidding? After the fight you guys had, you dug up a crater together, so no way! I'm sure she hasn't, but she..." He rubbed his head aimlessly. "Has work, you know? Unless she's ordered, maybe she has to stay there?"

"...Do you think she would be ordered to come here if I killed you?"

"No."

"Oh. _Tant pis_." Touma had no need to pray; his flat answer was taken for gospel. "But still, I truly wished to see her again, before I set things right... But..." Joan's stare bored straight past Touma, seeing some horror behind him. "... _Sacrè bleu_. That would mean us never meeting again. Or having... Never met at all!?" She was in full blown panic now, her armor clanking and grinding as she fell onto her back-plate to squirm. " _Incroyable!_ How could I be so blind! But, the plan... Oh, what do I choose? Redemption or Salvation! Ah, _mon dieu!_ "

As she cradled her face in her hands, Touma forced his gaping mouth shut and began to back away. So he nearly leapt into the sky when he felt something hard behind his back. Something much too like a fist for comfort.

"Are you picking on that defenseless, armoured swords-woman!? You fiend!" His accoster's voice blasted across the lot, filled with passion. "I've got the guts to take you on!"

!~~~~~~~~!

9:36 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 9, Holographic Gateway

There wasn't much magnetic to work with within the Holographic Gateway, all ceramic and composite material, but Mikoto found it easy to land atop one of the many hidden walls which formed its maze. To those beneath, she was hidden by a screen of illusion, but from above she could see them through a translucent haze. It was short work to navigate to the centre junctions which the woman was once again traversing, and even shorter to drop down through the false ceiling into the passage proper.

Miss Baker's look of surprise was sweet succor to the Level 5, but Mikoto's grim pleasure soured when the woman rolled her eyes and turned away.

"How droll." She said, puffing warm air into the night with a shiver. "I will find you, whoever you are. Soon I will tire of this game."

"Hey." At first Mikoto was more confused than anything, but as usual indignation surfaced quickly. "Hey! What they are you-?"

The woman had turned the corner, down another of the glowing hallways. From inside, it was easier to see the moving images of holiday festivity and colourful seasonal art, but to Mikoto it was all just electrons distracting her from her prize. So she sprinted around the corner and loosed an arc of lighting, that crawled and around the woman as she shouted and spun. The discharge disrupted the holograms, but only for a second, and they masked the scorch marks instantly.

"You are real!" Surprise soon turned to anger to make Miktoto's own. "Of all things to be real in this twisted path, it has to be you?" Miss Baker's hands flew to her pockets, eyeing the Level 5 nervously. "Wait, you passed through the ceiling?"

"Don't make a move. I can fry you before you do anything with your Magic. I'm not fooling around this time." But the she smiled coolly, enjoying the moment to taunt. "And seriously, even children aren't fooled by this kind of hologram. Didn't it feel cold to you?"

"I have no familiarity with such technology..." The woman grimaced calmed quickly, slipping into her easy icy focus. "I did not intend to engage you so soon, but I can adapt. I've wasted too much time here already."

"The only reason you're not already unconscious is because I need to know where Index is." Though hiding her charge as much as possible, a few stray sparks trailed across Mikoto's brow. "Spill it."

"I still need her a little while longer. Be patient, and you can have her again."

 _What?_ "Not good enough!"

"I cannot say I'm surprised. Fine." The woman's narrowed her eyes, tensing as Mikoto's power surged. "No more patience for either of us."

!~~~~~~~~~!

9:37 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District Unknown, Undisclosed Control Centre

"...Ah. Input one; the Third Ranked and the eleventh, the leader, of the intruders have engaged. My delaying tactic has borne fruit."

The blue-lit chamber was silent aside from Kihara Raito's voice. Holograms still hovered as always in monitors but the 1-3000 scale projected model of Academy City had reappeared, with two highlighted signals in District 9 capturing his attention. Though he circled the map always his footsteps made not the slightest sound.

"Input two; though there is still a twelfth signature which intrigues me, I have all the data I need for now from the Third Ranked. What I need is more... Extreme sources. Something to truly isolate the disruptions in the AIM field and Quantum reality. And for that, the anomaly known as Imagine Breaker shall suffice."

He paused and leaned over, to where a different dot was slowly crawling through District 7.

"Input three; all sorts of conflicts have spread in a circle over the city, but these are side-shows to the main event. Input four; algorithms indicate and emergence point of the most interesting distortion in the central section of District 7. ETA: Sometime between ten and midnight. Something from outside, trying to... Project itself on this reality. Like a hologram. How beautiful a thought, if true."

The appropriate section of Academy city was infused with a dull red glow, countering the blue elsewhere. It was a large circular area, but it was slowly, ever slowly shrinking as calculations narrowed possibilities.

"Well. Output one; things are progressing as fast as they can. And I no longer need to rely upon these outsiders for information."

He turned his back to the map, spawned a keyboard from light, and silently entered a few commands.

"Output two; the Third Ranked has outlived her utility as well, especially since she appears to be on to me. I suppose this is as good a time as ever to test my counter measures and efficiently deal with a problem. I'm sure you won't mind, Chairman, if you lose just one of your toys this night."

!~~~~~~~~!

9:38 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 9, Holographic Gateway

Mikoto's phone buzzed in her pocket angrily. Though she ignored it as the stare-down continued, eventually she passed it to her hand, not looking as she sought to shut it off completely. But somehow it clicked on by itself, and surprised Mikoto heard it's speaker phone go off.

"Misaka-sama! Watcchhhhh-" Uiharu was cut off by a rough static, a sharp sizzle, then a bang as the phone exploded.

Sensing the charge just in time Mikoto flung it away, but as she did the walls around her and Miss Baker shot down, then raised again to form a wider clearing.

"The heck was that...?" Mikoto froze, carefully watching for Magic from any corner, but it was the Holographic Gateway itself that had shifted. "The heck is this?"

Miss Baker was equally alarmed, but far less confused. "Not this again. More trickery and deception." The woman snarled, even more alert than the Level 5. "But this seems more than just passive misdirection..."

Though anxious to attack, something in that statement deeply offended Mikoto. "You're a stage magician! How can you possibly have the right to complain?"

For a brief second, Miss Baker revealed a puzzled look. "...You sound like that boy."

Before they could banter further, the floor betrayed them and down they fell.

They landed roughly atop a solid concrete surface, tens of meters below ground level. But their previous flooring did not just drop beneath their feet, opening up into a surprisingly large underground world, and it did not just rise up around them in sections, large pieces of ceramic tile spreading out swiftly to flank them. It also multiplied, or at least seemed to, so quickly did it split and spread into dozen of shields and spears on long, spindly arms that constantly whipped and contorted around segmented joints.

Acting before the sudden threat could strike, Miss Baker was already loosing from her pockets an impossible number of toys and puppets, bringing them to life in a rushed response. But seeing the more immediate threat Mikoto extended her fields to catch any metal and disrupt any circuits in the flailing arms. And yet...

"Nothing? But how?" Her failure proved more than just surprising as the first wave of rapid striking attacks came. Spears and shields and even pillars formed from the panels swept and stabbing and smashed all around, filling the chamber with loud clacking and clanking. The attacks had no real grace, and seemed semi-random, almost life-like in their thrashing.

It did not take long for Mikoto to understand. _These things aren't electric... The holograms are, but this stuff is pure kinematics! The engineering must be stupidly complex to be so efficient!_ She dodged and fried those which came too close, pouring enough power to fuse even the insulating ceramics. But already she was feeling the strain. _It takes a lot to stop one of these things then... After this night, outputting so much power is really bad._

Risking a glance to her favoured foe, she saw that all Miss Baker could do was try to stay above the attacks, riding a wave of summoned toys and animals from her pockets that were being viciously mauled by angled bits of flooring and support structure. Yet it seemed there was an ulterior motive, for the woman managed to reach the lip above and clamber out of view.

"Oh no you don't!" Mikoto shouted, frying several more of the arms into usable platforms and scrambling up one. "I'm not here for these things, damn you!"

"I call a truce!" The Level 5 could not believe it, but the woman did indeed have the audacity to shout this down from safety. "Civilians are in danger."

"Like you care!" Flabbergasted at the bluff, it took Mikoto a second longer than she would have liked to hear the screams of fear and surprise echoing around the chamber.

They were muted by the clattering of the arms but growing in number as more and more patches of holographic light began to open from above. Mikoto realized that, looking up, she was seeing the entire floor of the Holographic Gateway, and for every section she eliminated, another was stripped from above, whether or not a bystander happened to be enjoying the holiday display. Worse, it seemed more were being taken just to deal with her resistance. So more and more people were dangling from sudden chasms, trying to escape.

"Shouldn't you protect them First, rather than fight me?"

!~~~~~~~~!

9:39 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 7: near the border with District 2

Touma froze, hoping he recognized the boy he thought was standing behind him. "No, you've got it wrong." Even though Joan still moaned on the ground, the boy swallowed stuck to his innocence. "I didn't even touch her, she's just-"

"So you can make a woman cry without even your hands? Despicable! I ought to crash you right into a jail cell!"

"No, damn it! Just listen! Can we talk about this?"

"You can turn and fight me if you can at least pretend to have the guts!"

Now Touma was certain: even though he had not met this particular Level 5 very often, he was not one easily forgotten. Just as he remembered, and despite the freezing cold, Sogiita Gunha, Number 7 of Academy City, stood dressed in his trademark coat-become-cape and Rising Sun shirt, boldly staring down his target.

 _All right, let's try this again._ "Hold on, you recognize me, right? Remember when..." Touma searched for a time they met other than this one, but it would have to do. "When Mikoto was forced into a level 6 Shift by that Kihara?"[1]

"...Explain again!"

"...When the lightning girl got really scary? We stopped it together. I'm a good guy, see?"

"Am I being insulted? But wait..." The frown on his face finally lifted in exaggerated astonishment. "Ah! So it is you!" Touma had to rear back as a finger invaded his personal space, pointing up to his head. "Your hair! You are that guy!"

 _Goot enough_. "Yes, so please-"

"Why are you making this lady cry?"

"I'M NOT!" Even though his outburst brought him close to shouting in Sogiito's face, the other boy did not flinch aside from frowning. "I've done nothing but jump out of a plane, run from a Jewish King, and try to make a bird-woman STOP crying! I just got here!"

"...All right! I believe you!" Sogiita nodded, as serenely as someone like him could be expected manage. "I just read a manga where something similar to that just happened!"

 _...Why does that make my story seem MORE likely!?_ "Okay, that's great! But, have you been noticing anything strange going on? I'm trying to find 'lightning girl' and-"

"I have not seen her. BUT!" His voice boomed again. "I have heard troublemakers abound tonight. Have you seen any?"

Touma could not help looking back at the moaning puddle that Joan had become. Sogiita followed his eyes then looked back to Touma, narrowing his own. "...Are you trying to trick me again?"

" _Non_ , _c'est vrai._ It is true." Joan sighed before sitting upright, then leveraging herself to her feet. " _Excusez moi,_ I am not myself. _Oui,_ I am an invader here."

"Invader...? Ah, I understand now!" Sogiita's eyes lit up with delight. "You're a foreigner! Hold on." He coughed, then lowered his head. When it was raised again, his expression was stiff and serious. Joan had recomposed herself as well.

Touma was suddenly very aware he should probably not be anywhere nearby these two in a first, let alone between them. He scarpered to the side a fair distance, then a distance more as the two stared each other down.

Sogiita suddenly bowed low, eliciting slight surprise from Joan, but when he straightened again and smiled.

"'How-you-do-sir?'"

His broken English would have been ill-fitting anywhere else, but Touma could imagine nothing better for the strange pair of combatants. And amazingly, Joan responded with a smile.

"Oh my, a different language. I forgot that this Spell lets me Speak in Tongues."[2] She bowed as well, suit creaking. "Well met, good knight. Shall we commence?"

"AMAZING PUNCH!"

That was all it took.

The next thing Touma knew was a gust of wind and a horrific clang. When he had rubbed the pebbles from his eyes he saw a right-handed sword-stroke had been caught in one of the boy's hands, while his fist had dented the glove on her left. They pushed apart.

"With your bare...?" Joan roughly removed the brutalized gauntlet, tossing it hard to the side. "I did not expect this."

"Miss! Sword's are sharp!" Sogiita stared at the thin line of blood running down his palm, as if he had realized what he said only just this moment. "In the name of your safety I must ask you to put it down! And you are really really strong, can we fight?"

She laughed, stretched, then flexed. Her brass armour exploded apart, chest plate bouncing unnoticed from Sogiita's head with a hollow ring while Touma ducked more scattering scraps. "Very well. A brawl it shall be."

"Great! I'll give you a chance to redeem your guts after crying around on the ground like that, since you seem so ready now!" [3]

 _These two are both insane! How can I stop this chaos from spreading-_

He suddenly realized they had drawn a crowd.

 _This is way worse! How did it get so bad so fast, I've got to these people out of here before..._ "..Uh?"

For some reason he could not comprehend, they were all school girls. And all had four pointed stars in their eyes. And each were lined up with such regimented solidity they would not have looked out of placed arrayed against Napoleon's finest, even considering their delicate and expensive rich-girl apparel.

" _Oh my._ " The voice dripped with honey; to Touma, even the air was thick with the smell of it. "I knew trouble follows you around, cutie, but I wasn't expecting such an event to stir up my excitement ability!(heart)"[4]

!~~~~~~~~!

9:40 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 9, Holographic Gateway

Though already smugly confident in her escape, Miss Baker likely was looking for frustration and indecision to rattle her opponent. And down below, Mikoto looked up at the woman who had put her and her friends through this night already and threatened to do worse after just planning to walk away.

"That's not even a choice!" Mikoto spoke to her heart proudly, but kept a vicious grin on display. "But don't think I'm working with you! I'll kick your ass right after this!"

"Thank you for dealing with my irritant for me." Yet the taunt was weak, and frowning, Miss Baker pulled her head back from the lip. And with the last of the woman's toys shredded in the pit, Mikoto sought instead of pursuit a resolution as she battled more and more of the spindly arms.

 _There has got to be a way around this_. More focused now, she took in her forced arena. She stood now upon a solid square floor, but realized instantly that it could not be the lowest point. The arms of the platforms rose not from holes within it, but from further down over edges. There was a large, meter thick space between them and the walls, leading down into darkness tinged dimly blue.

 _Since it's kinematic, then some physical force even below must be manipulating them, and I bet that's got some juice._

Without hesitation the girl sprinted then slid on her side to the edge down past the waving arms. Though they had trouble reaching their own base, several spears jammed themselves to her, but were to slow as she slid and fumbled and grappled her way down. Eventually she noticed a few of the arms disappearing into holes in the side of the pillar, but by then the ground was visible beneath her, glowing blue.

When she landed, she immediately realized the square platform on which she had stood was actually a pillar, with a cavity carved out of its base to see something underneath, like a kotatsu under an impractically thick table.[5] The whole construction housed a massive, clanking mechanical nightmare of whirling and churning parts, driving the clacking arms by vibration and pulley, but did so with highly engineered precision. But it still, it was the work of a moment for the Level 5 to find the large electric generator power it and reduce it to molten slag.

The arms stopped nearly instantly, vibrating only a moment before fixing in place. "There." She sighed, grateful to both be rid of the noise and out of danger. _With the engine disabled I can think. And now._

She looked around. Aside from this room with the pillar, there was only a thin, long hallway lit by pale blue lighting.

"Where the heck am I?"

!~~~~~~~~!

9:41 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 7: near the border with District 2

"Why are there so many school girls here!?"

At least a hundred had lined up behind him in immaculate formation, now marching in casual lockstep passed like on of his worst nightmares from middle school: all looking forward, not one even glancing his way. With one blonde and busty exception. She strode towards him, and he noted with alarm she had four pointed stars in her eyes.

"A-are you like Joan of Arc? More crazy eyes?" He realized he had addressed a potential enemy with surprising casualness, but his breach of caution only beget a sad smile.

"That was a pretty strong pain power you used to greet a girl, but I guess that's just you." She shook her locks, her hair loose and uncovered in the night. "It's always such a heartache you don't remember, but don't worry, cutie. I'm here to help anyway!(star)."

"Help? Wait, the last thing this situation needs is more troublemakers! And why are their so many people with you!? What even happened to prep schools and their curfew, is it just a suggestion!? Where did morality go to die!?"[6]

But though she winked at him cheekily, she ignored his words to step primly to the front of her assembled forces. She observed Joan of Arc with minor interest, then sneered when she Sogiita.

"Well. I came here for a certain someone, but I get you with the bargain. Such a shame, no privacy for us at all."

"Why do you want to have private time with me?" Sogiita looked at her with more than a little alarm, which only heightened when she waved a fist in a burst of anger. But remembering herself, Misaki Shokuhou, Mental Out, brushed it through her hair instead.

"I think I just identified your mysterious power. You have a great annoyance ability, level 6. Truly remarkable, please take a bow."

"I do not think you are right, it's telekinesis, isn't it...? And why would I need to bow?"

"And what is this _nouveau développement_?" Joan seemed both annoyed by the interruption, and interested in the array of eyes against her.

" _Parle vous Francais?"_ Misaki did not miss a beat, slipping her hand into a handbag adorned with just one star. _"Bon, c'est agréable de rencontrer une femme de culture de temps en temps."_

If her fluency was supposed to have an impact, Joan merely looked at the girl with mild distaste. _"Est-ce que j'ai un autre challenger? Partager mon pouvoir? Tu sembles... Faible."_

"Well. There goes my sympathy ability, leveled down to nothing." Though her smile did not shift, something in the school girl's stance changed. "We may have similar eyes, I think you will find this is my Ability, not yours.(star) I'll have to dig through your memories and see exactly what it is you...? Hmm?" Her smile wavered, even as her hand moved within her pocket.

Now she pulled out the remote she had been hiding, pressing one button after another, now speaking aloud. "Category 30 / Pass out already. Category 005 / Bomb. Category 109 / Slap Sogiito."

"Hey!"

"Interesting." Though hardly worried, the girl pocketed the remote, seeming thoughtful. "I suppose if my Mental Out Ability doesn't work directly on either of you, I will have to be more creative. Clever of me to come with backup."

"Wait!" She jumped as Touma moved close, and jumped higher when he placed his hand on her shoulder to spin her around. "I don't know who you are, and I'm grateful you're trying to help, but they are not people you can just stroll up to!"

Though momentarily overwhelmed she quickly snuggled in close, making him jump highest. She giggled as he fled for comfort, the smile on her face both skin-deep and an ocean. "Thank you for your concern, Kamijou-kun, but I was watching from a distance. I am confident that I can contain both of these two, keep my girls safe, and still have time to get close to you!(heart)"

 _She knows me... And wants to what with me?_ "No, but-"

"I see you bring an army of your own." He felt his worst fears coming to life as Joan spoke calmly. "Against you two or all of you at once, I would still prevail. But seeing as I wish to interrogate Imagine Breaker..."The eight-pointed stars in her eyes flashed. "I will call _renforts_ of my own. It is good I prepared. **Company** _ **.**_ **Forward March.** "

At first, nothing happened. Then, footsteps. Just one set, but then it grew loud, so loud that it could only be many in perfect sync. And so it was as divisions poured in from multiple alley-ways, surrounding the arena and dwarfing what forces Mental Out could muster; men, women, maintenance men, scientists, working together in a twisted display of harmony, eight-pointed stars blocking out their eyes.

"Oh wow! That's a lot of people!" Sogiita Gunha spun around on his feet, uncertain who to punch first.

"Oh. More than mine, but less control?" Misaki Shokuhou blinked, raising one hand to hide her lips. "That is quite the army of ordinary, unarmed adults in a city of psychic children. I am so terribly frightened.(heart)"

"A good _commandant_ makes all the difference, girl." Joan of Arc. "Now prepare yourselves. Imagine Breaker, _restez_ where you are, I have more to ask you."

"No, that's not right! He's got to fight me for upsetting you, and then you have to fight me!"

"I'm afraid you've both got it wrong, we're going out after this to have some real fun ability!(heart)"

 _I've got to get out of this madhouse._ But through the throng no exit could be seen.

 _"Preparez vous._ "

"What a gutsy battle, aw yeah! I'll fight and make sure no one gets hurt! LET'S GO, EVERYONE AT ONCE, DOG PILE!"

"I'll contain both of you and sort this out right out.(star)"

The battle commenced on all sides.

Very little could be made sense of; between the shouted commands of Joan, the booming battle-cries of Sogiita, and the raging combat between psychic schoolgirls and militant adults, it was all too much. It quickly became a brawl in which one spiky haired boy could lose himself. But just when he felt he had also lost sight of his escape and future hopes, a path opened up where a cluster of school girls fought. It may have just been his imagination, luck, or some kind of planning, but it gave him the out he needed, and he sprinted between them and down a snow laden alley into the night.

!~~~~~~~~!

9:44 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 7: A school yard in the southern end

"And that's the last for this sector."

The arms of the Power Lifter made certain Hamazura Shiage exerted almost no real effort, but still he sighed as if exhausted when the last metal container landed. It crunched through a thin layer of snow cover, but most it had already been churned brown and green with the mud and grass, trampled down by his machine's feet.

Checking over the exoskeleton's in-built display his momentary relief was quickly smothered. More sections were calling for changes, and more launchers needed to be shifted. "Even for working on a holiday, I'm not getting paid enough for this."

He pivoted in his suit, the upper torso swinging before the legs caught up, and pressed on. The map noted that the next destination was nearby.

"At least I have my date to look forward too. And my work on these fireworks will make it all the more romantic!" Suitably motivated, his Power Lifter are up the distance quickly, bearing him now to the street. "Now how many more of these to go-"

A small cry of fear froze his blood solid. Rather than even put the machine's left foot down he slammed all systems into lock and held his breath. Nothing happened for several longer seconds, then several more, before he dared open his eyes.

Ahead was nothing; just a quiet, open street with a single parked car. To the left and right were much the same: nothing but the sound of distant vehicles and the glow of apartment lights. The school yard he had come from, and all the buildings attached, were much the same. As a last ditch effort he checked the machine's monitor, but it displayed nothing but inventory and logistics.

But when he looked up again, he saw a small face attached to a small head peering from around his still raised left foot.

"A kid...? Oh, that's okay then-OH **-" His realization came as suddenly as his swear was cut off. Both hands had left the controls to hold his head as his face turned whiter than the season. "I almost squished a kid. That's more than Juvie. Negligent Operation of a Motorized Vehicle, Endangerment of Child, but it'd be Manslaughter most likely, oh man..."

The small pair of eyes blinked at him incessantly, but Hamazura was well and truly distracted.

"Wait. A kid. Alone. Kindergartner? No uniform. Aw, man. This is not good. I have to babysit now. That'll delay me more than I can manage. And worse, what if I get blamed for this? If they see me with a little kid, me, with a track record taller than he is, they'll just assume the very worst and..."

The paranoid young man finally made eye contact with the child, but as he did the boy immediately ducked down. His own problems receded.

"...Hey, uh, little buddy." Awkwardly, gingerly, he pulled his foot back and knelt in the exoskeleton, bring his face as low as he could make it. "What are you doing out here? Aren't you cold? I..."

He looked at the boy, squinting his eyes, trying to make sense of the worrisome part of his mind that was beginning to cry out that something was wrong.

"Are you okay? You look a little..." Inside his suit he rubbed the back of his, puffing warm air into the night as he muttered to himself. "Oh man. I mean, I don't know much about kids, but..."

He looked again, confirming what his eyes were telling him, and suspected deep in his core that his night was about to get worse.

"Aren't they usually not green?"

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes:**_

[1] The Railgun Manga is canon, so if this spoils that for you I'm sorry. I kept it as vague a reference as I could.

[2] While I made it clear that this was the case before, I thought I should both reinforce it and maybe give it a Spell-like moniker now. I may go back and make this consistent with earlier explanations later on some time.

[3] I really have a hard time characterizing Sogiito. All he's got is bold, dramatic, and clueless, with a heavy side order of guts. I think he would be interested in a good fight, but do so with the best of intentions.

[4] Well, this was going to happen eventually. Also, curse this site for not allowing symbols. This will have to do. Oh yeah, and it's not slowing down.

[5] If you don't know, a kotatsu is a heater used under tables in cold months in Japan to heat up legs and make people more comfortable. The analogy seemed the best way to describe was essentially a big motor under and inside a large table-like lid. If it's still awkwardly described, just imagine a pillar with a big hollow chunk inside being a machine with little arm-like bits waving around through holes in the pillars. See? That doesn't sound nearly as well written.

[6] Yes, this is how Kongou, Wannai, and Awatsuki got out of Tokiwadai: Misaki just subdued the security for the night. They just happened to move at a different pace, and Misaki had to spend time to round up her gang.


	69. Part 3: Chapter 12

**Hello again, everyone. We're back again, with another installment of the Academy City variety hour! We've got a whole host of acts for you today; from 'A Night with the Star-ry eyed girls' to 'Extreme Adventures in Babysitting', we have got you covered on Cameos! No character too minor, no reference too inane!**

 **Ahem.**

 **All jokes aside, this is getting a bit complicated, isn't it? And perhaps divergent. I don't _think_ I've quite bitten off more than I can chew, because this all resolves neatly* in the plans I have, but man. Looking at it now, it's a heck of a thing. I have even more appreciation now for the execution of a real novel. I guess this is good practice. I can promise you this, though: **

**To all those impatient, and worried. This is not a story without a true resolution; it'll be sweeter, and more monumental, than anything that's come before. The journey is crafted to parallel their coming to terms with themselves, and coming together, and the paths that they must take. All the time is for a reason. After all, with protagonists like this, when is anything ever easy?**

 **So without further delay, welcome back to a Certain Holiday Season. Please, enjoy if you can.**

 ***in a vague sense of the word**

 **Chapter 12**

9:45 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 9, Beneath the Holographic Gateway

The material under her shoes felt strange, but this was the least of her questions.

No matter how Mikoto probed it with her senses, the walls and floors and ceiling revealed almost nothing, just a very thin layer of some kind over concrete. Nothing like electricity was powering the dim blue strips of light, but there were cables with some kind of power that weakly interacted with her fields. The puzzle was a good distraction to save her from her other burning questions, but it did not last long.

"...Fibre-optics." She realized that, for an advanced facility based on holograms, this only made sense. "This place really is all about light."

The discovery was a minor victory, but it also told her little about more important matters.

 _This is clearly some part of the Dark side of Academy City, light obsession notwithstanding. But I don't know of anything like this from my excursions before._ There were no markings, no labels, no maps or any features of any kind. There was no evidence of any kind, no matter how she looked, that these tunnels had ever been walked at all, let alone designed for visitors. _It was just built then left like this. No doors, no rooms. And what kind of place would be so secretive that it doesn't even show up on things like Tree Diagram... Maybe it's just new, some new experiment?_

Answers were not forthcoming, which meant it was time for new problems.

"...What did that damn woman mean about an irritant? Why was she here, anyway?" _And more importantly, who can I zap for causing this mess..._

She picked up the pace, galled more every second she was delayed from chasing down Index. But even so, Mikoto felt this was the right decision.

 _There's got to be a connection. The data sent to my phone came from here, I'm sure, and Miss Baker realized and was trying to get it to stop. But for whatever reason, once I showed up I was attacked too. Is whoever here just scared? I was on their side, more or less, until then. There has to be a different reason, and they didn't care at all about bystanders. As far as I care, that means I've got to forcefully explain to them how messed up their ideas are, and destroy all their precious holograms..._

"Heh." The Level 5 forced a weary grin. "Illusions. Like holograms. I wonder if he'd get it..."

The expression faded as she thought of his own.

"And now I'm even using his lines, aren't I?" ... _I've really got to stop hurting myself like this._

For a moment Mikoto let herself stop, standing in the obviously main hallway; though others branched off, there were smaller and poorly lit. Some were so small they had clearly been designed for no human access at all. But though there was only one path to follow, for a second the way was unclear.

But then she thought about it.

Though it hurt a little, and it meant pressing on alone again, her answer was never in any doubt.

 _It doesn't matter. I'll help him, any way I can, close to him or not, and do what I know is right. That's that._

Bolstered by her newfound confidence, the eerie blue glow that extended seemingly infinitely ahead of her seemed no distance at all.

 _At least it's warmer here._ She stuffed her mittens into her pockets, and then realized her mind was drifting. _Come on. Let's just find the group at the bottom of this, get what they know about Baker, and use it myself. Easy._

Walking again, she realized that the distance she had felt before was more a trick of the lighting than anything. Almost before she knew it, she came to a large room, the walls of the tunnel receding unnoticed. But the room was empty. Around its edges, the blue light was strong, and thin trails criss-crossed every flat surface. But of those there were merely six, forming a perfectly regular cube, with no equipment, protrusion, or opening of any kind save for her entrance.

"No way. I don't buy it." _There is more here than meets the eyes..._

Sure enough, she got her answer, but if not surprising in context, it's scale astounded.

"Wow... So everywhere..." Her sensitive powers, noting minute clusters of electromagnetic energy, discovered that every millimetre panel, every unlit square, of each surface of this room were used for just one highly specialized purpose. "Are more hologram emitters? Talk about obsession. But this still doesn't tell me where eve-"

Her mind filled with unbearable static.

She shouted, fought the sensation but it overwhelmed her in her surprise and she felt herself slip to the floor into darkness.

!~~~~~~~~~!

9:46 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 7: A school yard in the southern end

"What are you doing!"

Hamazura Shiage's head whipped towards the sound of the woman's voice. Under other circumstances its husky tenor would be sultry, but now it was filled with anger; her low cut dress would have been a distraction, but for now he was more concerned with survival. Reacting fast he straightened up and away from the green boy in front of him who had stiffened in turn.

"I just found him I swear! I was just trying to-" The woman was striding closer, in long black robes, but when he saw her face of worry his heart lightened. "-Oh, you're talking to the kid... Hey wait, you're green too! So you're his mom or some-" But the smile died stillborn on his face when her expression shifted to him, full of rage. "-O-or sister, you know, or maybe not, but you're green too so..."

"Flee or die."

Hamazura did not have time to feel the cold sweat before his body was already reacting, half-stepping away. But even though he did not retreat completely, he was immediately ignored as the woman turned, sickly sweet now, back to the boy. She knelt down beside him, but kept him at arm length even though she moved her arms as if to reach him in an embrace.

"Oh, my poor good brother..." She took her hands through his hair, sharing the same odd shade of green. "There there, my sweet. What did I tell you? Do not wander off again."

"Yes, sister." Seemingly well trained, the little boy stammered out a quiet response. But to Hamazura's eyes, something seemed wrong. More than just overwhelmed with a surprise encounter, or frightened at being caught in a naughty act, the boy seemed scared.

"Oooh, yeah. Gotcha. Sister." Though the strangeness of the situation was throwing off his normal intuition, a feeling compelled the young man to act. "...Hey kid, are you all right?"

The words stuck in his throat, and the woman's intense scrutiny combined with a strange heat in the air threw his paranoia into overdrive. But when the little boy moved his lips, Hamazura tossed aside his sense of propriety and self-preservation aside, all because the boy mouthed the single word 'run'.

"...Sorry!"

In that moment, he was unsure who exactly he was apologizing too. It may have been the green boy, whose plea to save himself he ignored. It may have been the green woman, whose eyes widened at the speed at which the Power Lifter's arm stabbed between her and her brother before it swung back to toss her with incredible power and precision safely into a snowbank. It may even have been to himself. But most likely, it was to Takitsubo Rikou, whose date plans tonight were about to be completely derailed.

The Power Lifter's other hand scooped up the startled and shouting green boy and together Hamazura beat a hasty retreat down the street as fast as his mechanical legs could carry them. Though not truly suspecting some kind of attack, the young man's nerves had been honed to such a razor edge by his worry that a sudden heat warning his system registered from behind caused him to automatically dodge, aiming for an alley. He and boy cried together as wispy balls of greenish light exploded into violent red flames, drifting through the air and landing like wreaths on every surface.

"I KNEW something was wrong here!" Though such a large machine could hardly be said to scramble, scramble it did under Hamazura's command as it travelled down the alley, pushing past and over trash bins and stacked crates. "It's okay, kid, I'll get you outta here, hang tight! Gotta find Anti-Skill or something quick...Nah, they can't handle this, I need-"

"No, no no!" The green struggled weakly, though with surviving vigour, in an measured but vice-like grip. "You can't, she'll kill you!"

"You don't have to worry any more! I may be just a punk, but when I see someone helpless, even I'll do something." The alley ended quickly, opening to another apartment lined street in District 7. Hamazura looked around but did not slow as he headed south, muttering improvised plans. "Okay, I'll put some buildings between us then go for a straight away sprint down a highway. I don't know what technology she's using for that fire or to make you both green, but this should give us some breathing room."

"No, stop! **STOP**."

"What?" The sudden shift in both tone and volume set off alarm bells in Hamazura, but to his credit he did not put the green boy down like his instincts demanded.

So when the child spoke again, the delinquent knew just how much of a mistake he had made ."You don't understand. I'm dangerous too."

"...Aw, **-"

He did not expect the woman to cut them off. She drifted like a ghost at high speed through a solid building, swinging around to intercept his path. She was immediately joined by several balls of her greenish light, and they flew with a swing of her arm at him. Desperate to shield himself and the boy Hamazura sacrificed his un-ladened arm to the fire and explosions, feeling the reinforced alloys strain and melt. But his shock at her sudden appearance worsened when she drifted right through him and into the boy, her form folding into his small green body.

"Aawhawgawah!?" Frantically clutching at his own flesh, the grave chill Hamazura felt passed quickly. But it returned when his Power Lifter rumbled ominously, and the boy broke free from its iron grip. Instinct bade him drop the quickly shifting and growing form, and instinct demand he flee from the rapidly spreading tendrils that woven together over the ground and around the child. Woman and boy were gone, eclipsed by a monstrous mass of plant and vine, with a huge flower in its opening steaming as acidic spittle burned through snow and concrete alike.

"Your mom AND you are like this?" Somewhere deep within the bestial roar, Hamazura was sure he heard a feminine tinge of indignation. "Oh. Right. Damn it." That sound, more than the hideous plant, prompted him to run again, pursued by fury incarnate as he loudly lamented his lot in life.

!~~~~~~~~~!

9:47 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 2: a military storage and testing building

Though designed to stand up to extreme testing conditions for weaponry, armaments and industrial equipment, the hanger-like building was clearly being pushed beyond all design specifications. Dozens of dents and holes in the outer wall made by Aero Hand projectiles and runaway boulders made its limitations clear. Interior structures had fared even worse, with only the central test track for the monorail itself remaining sufficiently secured.

"Kongou-san!"

"He's only ever using one of the rings at a time!"

"Right! So, we continue to attack from two angles. Are you ready girls?"

"Yes!" Wannai clutched tighter to Awatsuki as they shot up over a monorail cart, sliding on a esper-empowered spray of water. As they passed to side, drawing Solomon's eye, one of the few remaining computer consoles rocketed towards him propelled by several instances of Aero Hand. His own gust of wind pushed it off course, opal ring shining, but then he could do nothing as the water his own Magic had formed slipped around his feet and pulled him flat.

One mobile and elusive, the other potently unpredictable, the two teams of girls held their own against the venerable King. Prepared before with more Aero Hands, two cargo containers slid from the out ring to collapse against his prone form, pinning together with a clang as they rocked together. With just enough room between them to hold him trapped.

"Success!" The trio reunited, two pleased while the third raised her fan to hide her confident laugh. "Ready to surrender yet, you old fellow?"

It was at this heightened moment of triumph that it all fell apart.

The first thing to fall apart was the trap. In half, then in quarters, then eighths the process accelerated, until nearly countless regular pieces rained against the concrete floor. This, and Solomon's sudden absence, alarmed the girls. For he had fallen apart too.

"I do not like to rely on this Power."

Though all three sets of eyes scanned the room, none thought to look down, where flesh coloured cubes assembled, trailing inwards from all sides, sliding low. There they gathered, coalesced, formed into a finger, a hand, and outstretched arm.

"These rings, I made myself. But this is a gift from something I do not trust."

The last thing to fall apart was Wannai, split at the waist as the hand from below tapped her gently. Her expression was more shocked than anything, but her two friends watched with horror as she slid apart, falling to the ground in separated chunks. The wounds glowed purple with angry intensity.

"Yet if you insist." He reformed between the two remaining. "I shall defeat you with it."

Kongou in a panic swept out with her foot, kicking low at Solomon as it grazed the ground. His feet and legs fell apart, reforming only as they shoe passed. Though grimly confident, he only noticed the swirling whirlwind spots on the concrete in time to close his eyes. The onrush of roaring wind blasted his scattered pieces apart, and though most of the force when up into the ceiling drafts caught everything in sight, blowing the girls, equipment, even the body of Wannai-san away from the clearing. Hurricane gales rocked the containers, but in the room's very centre, along a piece of monorail track, a testing cart remained motionless.

The hanger was still for several seconds, but then with a rustle and glow of purple Solomon reformed. His eyes snapped open, but they beheld nothing but chaos and test machinery.

"...So you flee, scatter me, and push her to safety too. But running will do no good." He self-divided again, one more spreading out into the room and disappearing.

For the first time in ages the room experienced an extended stay of quiet. The battle had become a hunt. And the hunted hid, and worried.

"Wannai-san, no..." Kongou's fan shook as she stowed it stiffly in her pocket. "Aah, what have I done? Led them here, only to..."

Her heart fluttered in her mouth, feeling a creeping feeling enter into her hands as they shifted, tapping various places on the container next to her. But even as fear took her, she grit her teeth.

"...Can't give up."

"Here you are."

Something began to form.

"!" Kongou clamped both hands down onto a handle as the container she hid behind as she activated every instance she had plant. She had to close her eyes as the rush of wind battered her, but her grip held as she and the steel box both shot across the room. She dropped and rolled, letting go before it hit the opposing wall, hurrying to her feet as she coughed and fought for the breath to shout.

"Awatsuki-san! Don't answer, but he's slow to form if you pay attention! He also can't see well when he's doing that! Strike then!"

For a long second, she panted, waiting for another attack, bending down and reaching around to set up landmines of her power. Still she waited. Long enough for her breathing to settle, but also long enough for her anxiety to well up like spring water.

"Still fighting? What pig-headedness is this?" Her hands clenched, one darting into her pocket, but no matter where she spun she saw nothing. "Not even my fool of a brother was so stubborn."

The noise came from above, rebuilt lips followed rapidly by head and torso. Reacting, Kongou spun and whipped her fan from its pocket. It spun and was caught by Solomon's newly formed hand, but immediately released a large burst of air from a quickly place Aero Hand. He held on just long enough for it to send his body spinning, and by the time it had still and reformed, she was gone.

He floated down, frowning deeply. Then dispersed again, spreading out.

Behind an overturned cart, Kongou risked a glance. In both the sky and along the floor there was nothing, so she made a quick sprint to slide towards the centre, looking for some way to turn the tide. By pure chance, she found Awatsuki.

Both stayed quiet, but Kongou's momentary relief turned to confusion as the other girl pulled her close, dragging them together beneath the shadows of the centre Monorail. There, with a serious face, she mouthed just the words 'inside'. Understanding but only on the service, Kongou nodded carefully, and then gasped as Awatsuki darted out into the open. Under the influence of her power she nearly flew, landing with grace atop a container that had fallen on its end. There she stood proudly.

"Come on out, you coward! Where are you?"

Unable to stop watching her friend's desperate diversion, Kongou stumbled into the cart, then gasped all the harder, face white and eyes wide. But within, Wannai was propped up on a seat, lower half distressingly still missing, with a finger to her lips.

"Ssshhhh! I'm okay."

"Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness." Under the circumstance the mild expression Wannai wore was almost more alarming than her situation; she was in the process of ignoring what should have been a fatal wound, her legs nowhere in sight. "Are you? What? How? Are you?"

"Kongou-san! Sshh!" Their voices suitably lowered, Wannai risked a small smile. "I'm fine, it doesn't even really hurt. He split me, but I'm fine. Honestly, I think something is tickling my leg..."[1]

"How, I don't-"

"Nevermind, please!" Though her voice was quiet her eyes were sharp and alert. "Sorry, but Awatsuki and I have a plan, and we need your help."

Kongou started as if slapped, trying to sort out her emotions, eventually finding the will she needed to move past her shock. "...Of course. Tell me." She nodded, trying and failing to keep her eyes from the glaring purple wound that bifurcated the other girl.

"First, please get me off this monorail, that's important. Then you must..."

Shouldering the other girl, who was unsurprisingly fairly light, Kongou stepped from the cart, nodding carefully. But both their attentions were caught by the sight of Awatsuki dashing from container to container, trying avoid hands that were forming and dissolving and reforming in the air, swiping at her. The girl's lightened body proved too nimble, but each escape was inevitably growing narrower and narrower.

One slip was all it took, atop a little bit of water that pooled atop the edge of her current container. One moment of panic was all it took to show her fate as a hand swept up from below, materializing to evilly catch her fall.

But a gust of wind knocked her clear, and she floated up and against the outer wall, nearly passing through a hole to the outside. Below, Kongou sighed, having safely moved Wannai in time to save the day.

"I'll take you, instead."

She fell white, then fell apart at the waist, limbs twitching in shock as she collapsed. The hand that had appeared behind her as she was distracted was rejoined by the rest of Solomon's body, and he casually watched as his last remaining opponent pushed towards the huge rising door of hanger. Though before it had been clear, the carnage of the battle had pushed several pieces of debris to rest against it. But none had punched their way clear, and none were large enough for the girl to stand behind.

"Now you children see how pointless this all is." Rather than step around it, Solomon pushed a container apart, falling to pieces beneath his power. "The other two could attack, but all you can is evade. Continuing is pointless."

"I'm not done yet, so get over here and come get me you... You braggart! You cad!" She fought down nervous trembling, but her face was firmly defiant.

He eyed her with something between acknowledge and resignation. "If you insist. But to forestall any attempts at pursuit once I defeat you..." Solomon approached, and he stretched out his hands just before he stopped. On each hand, two rings glows, sapphire and ruby and opal and emerald. Four spheres coalesced in the air, hovering with menace. But it was the ring around his neck the shone the brightest, floating upwards over his head without a touch. And from it, through a hole in the metal roofing, a fifth light of utmost brilliance shining down on him like all heaven's grace.

"I shall show you the depth of your mistake. When the others recover, in an hour, tell them this. You never had a hope."

Awatsuki stood, awestruck.

"In my arrogance, I made this. My greatest triumph, and my greatest sin."

Her eyes were glued to the heavenly display.

"It is incomplete, a fraction of what it could be, but even so it touches upon the territory of the mystery of life."

The beauty of what it hinted at was overwhelming.

"This is my mastery, and my fate. Witness the glory of the heavenly realm."

"Jump!"

Awatsuki snapped out of her reverie and flew straight up.

"So remember this, and... What?" Stupidly, Solomon's head followed her up, mouth hanging open. He was even more surprised by the sudden explosion behind him.

The ancient king did not even have time to turn before the monorail slammed into his back, shot not by explosions but as many instances of Aero Hand could summon, enough to clear earth gravity well. And all this force pushed him through the steel hanger doors, dug a deep furrow in the concrete and roadway and dirt as the monorail car pushed and pushed and pushed him through rows of cargo containers, each flying into the sky to crash explosively down again.

A full minute of crashing and clanging ensued. At its very tail end, as the last container crunched far in the distance, the three girls peered out. Two floated in halves atop small puddles of water, and last collapsed at the knees to sit between them. All three exhaled.

"Oh wow. That was something."

"Yeah. Look at all that damage." Wannai shook her head, softly intimidated by their own display of power. "I knew that you lightening the car and me lubricating the track would reduce its friction considerably, but the force-mass equations still are far worse in reality than on paper."

"Girls, we did it. Feel proud! But..." Kongou sighed, pulling her legs closer to her with visible dismay. "Did he say an hour?"

Several more seconds passed.

"Do... You think he's dead?" Awatsuki brushed some dust generated by the final attack from her sleeve.

"Oh my I hope not." Wannai raised one delicate hand to her lips.

"Indeed, my father would be mortified."

The other girls looked at Kongou.

"...As would I! C-clearly!"

Several more seconds passed.

"...You know, I feel a little bad."

"What, again? Wannai-san, I know it seems extreme, but we had to go this far." Awatsuki shook her head, winter cloths as clear as she could manage. "Any less and he would get away for sure, and just bother Misaka-sama and her suitor."

"No, it's not that. I just wonder what he was going to say. And do with that Ring on his neck." It was Wannai's turn to bear the brunt of their stares. "He just seemed so proud of it, that's all! Seems such a shame."

"Well, enough waiting around. Let's head on."

The third and final girl earned scrutiny, but this time it was planned.

"We can't stay here. We've got to keep on walking forward, and go help where else we're needed to help them. So let's go!"

Awatsuki seemed proud of her improvised speech, but blinked in surprise as the other two narrowed their eyes.

"...Did she just suggest walking away? While we are currently bereft of legs? How... Improper."  
"Awatsuki-san, even when we're lightened with your Float Dial it's still hard for me to levitate both of us and water."

"Perhaps she could help carry us? I am sure she would not mind-"

"Yes, perhaps if we just hold onto her with our upper halves-"

"No, wait, hold on! Stop flying towar-aaaaahh!"

Fighting only for a moment, the one girl still standing resigned herself to their clinging grasp. One hung from each arm, only their legs floating along behind them. Heads pressed close to either side, squishing all together.

Wannai was the first to giggle, and soon all were laughing. And not much longer, the three-headed oddity shambled into the night.

!~~~~~~~~!

9:48 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 13: An Alleyway in the Northern Quarter

"...Uh-huh... Total destruction or containment, got it. Yeah, I know they can come back - I was there in the assault on their hide-out, I know." Lessar rolled her eyes and smirked with mock irritation for her audience of none. "I've got one locked down, yeah, but I have to babysit, so... Good, great. Thanks." She leaned down, putting one hand to the mouth piece. "Man, they're being surprisingly helpful today, you guys must have them real worried."

"...Mmm. Yes, great." Asu's chin perked up, but only slightly. His arms had ceased their shaking a while ago, and were now locked stiff and sore while he bowed as her reluctant throne.

"No fun. Hmmm?" Urgent sounds from her phone brought her focus back to business. "Uh-huh... Uh? Really?" She blinked. "Well, I guess that's a good idea. So what... Eleven? That fast... Well, okay, sounds good." The phone clicked shut in her hands, and she spun and pocketed it in one deft motion that could only come with long practice. "Well, you and I get to sit tight, buddy."

"I feel like you are the only one sitting..." Though he grumbled, he felt a familiar tap-tap-tapping as the thick gauge wire slapped against his cheek.

"Got a problem? Need some therapy?" It sparked dangerously and he flinched. "I have all the tools for an 19th century crash course!"  
"Stop that!" Despite the threat, Asu had had enough, shouting back up to his tormentor. "I only understand that's a threat, you know!? And nothing else about what you mean, right!? So please don't!?"

"That's your problem? Fine, fine. Sheesh." The wire slapped heavy in her other hand. "It's hardly any fun being a hero when you can't even banter with the bad guys..."

Then, with a puff of black smoke, the line finally died.

"Oh." Lessar stared at in growing horror. "Ooh."

Slowly, slowly, Asu's head twisted back to look at her. "...What was that?"

One hand whipped down to hold him in place by his hair. "N-nothing." She thought furiously, seeing nothing nearby to help. "But tell you what. Ah, you're being good, so." But she only had one bargaining chip left. "...I promise not to shock you if you don't move any more. Deal?"

"Well, seeing as an hour ago, you were shocking me at random..." His once innocent voice dripped vitriol, but reluctantly he turned forward. "...Fine, yes. Deal."

"Great." Disaster averted, Lessar loosened her grip and gave him a firm pat. "So where was I before the-Oh, right, so this was back in Halloween, and..."

!~~~~~~~~~!

9:49 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, The Learning Core, District 13

Itsuwa ran.

Out from the under ground and through a long row of buildings, for a long while now she had played a dangerous game. At times she would hide to regain her stamina since his never faltered, and at time she would beckon and taunt to ensure his attention did not waver. And all the she sought the arena she had seen upon the sign, more than a little lost and unable to find time for real navigating.

So almost blindly, Itsuwa ran. She looked back with concern steered well clear of panic, but sure enough her pursuer continued, oversized brass halberd held steadily before him. The diminutive Lu Bu leapt from one piece of the Learning Core's scenery to the next, bounding between displays as he tried in vain to narrow the gap between them.

"Where are you going, you precocious brat!? Lu Bu demands a battle after such cocky words!"

"Just keep following me and you will get one." Itsuwa's response was muttered under her breath, but the warrior barked a laugh.

"As if I can be made to wait!" Between leaps he spun his hands, and in a flash a brass halberd tore through the air, launched forward like a harpoon. Rather than attempt deflect with her own weapon Itsuwa dug the spear tip into the ground, slowing and diverting her own momentum just enough for the harpoon to miss. She turned the dodge into a roll when, as sure as thunder after lightning, Lu Bu crashed down where she had been, a new halberd ready to swing.

But Itsuwa was up and gone again, running deeper into the Learning Core. She ignored his loudly voiced complaints and focused on her stamina, running always on. But it did not take long before she realized she had reached the core of the entire facility, a circle tall buildings ringing an even taller tower in its centre. But only one was her target, finally found. She changed direction and jogged inside a large structure with a round dome just on the periphery, passing through a great arched doorway.

Lu Bu followed seconds behind, but paused on the threshold of a deeper darkness than the still-well lit streets. His face crinkled with suspicion, but suddenly automatic lights ignited his face with shock. He cried out and stepped back, but nothing came.

More bold now he pressed ahead, and not seeing his quarry let his eyes drift within the room. Though there was a chamber deeper in the back, the front vestibule was large enough in its own right, and open in part to the outside air. Several displays lined the wall, filled with trinkets and toys he did not recognize, and from the ceiling hung several spheres of various size in colour, drifting around a dully glowing centre.

"I know you're in here, you coward. I am coming to collect that fight I am owed!"

His only answer was silence, until a door from across the room squeaked on over-used hinges.

Leaping at the sound he surged forth, roaring as he kicked them inwards, rolling inside with a sweep of his halberd. The nearest row of seats suffered for his eagerness, but Itsuwa was deeper inside a large, round auditorium. She stood at the circular room's centre, beside a complex globe of machinery that rested beneath the apex of its dome. He narrowed his gaze, noting but not looking back as the doors swung shut behind them.

"What is this, eh? Some kind of hall? Is this where we fight?"

"Yes. Now." Her spear thrummed as she leveled it. "Ready yourself."

"Finally!" Lu Bu wasted no time vaulting high into the sky, spinning to slam down his blade where the girl stood. She darted away, parried, and dodged again in a long series of lightning fast engagements as he chased her around in a large ring. Every few seconds he retrieved another halberd from his hammerspace, one blade after another dulling and warping from the fury of his assault. But never once did he tire, and never did the joy of combat leave his face.

"Not bad, little girl! But I demand more more more!"

It was not that the speed of his attacks increased. Instead, his movements narrowed, with less time wasted between one strike and the next, practically flying forward with the momentum of battle, and it did not take long for Itsuwa to be forced back into the machine at the centre. Her spear, forced to take one too many direct blows, finally bent at the middle.

"Wait!"

Her cry was heeded, but Lu Bu did not stop and step back out of respect or mercy. Instead Lu Bu he laughed, slamming his chest with his fist in animalistic glee.

"Now!" When he finally calmed, he still was grinning wildly. "Now, beg I end this quickly!"

"Actually, please wait." Only now did he see that during his triumphant cries one hand had snaked back to fiddle with the machine behind her. "I think I managed to read this during our fight, but I wasn't sure-Oh, good." There was a whirring, electrical sound, then a heavy chunk.

The lights shut off. Both were plunged into darkness.

"Aaagh! Waaaaghhhhh!" But then a new set of lights illuminated the dome. "Aaaghh... Eh?" Astounded, Lu Bu gazed at the vibrant constellations above them. "Night time? Indoors? But the clouds..."

Itsuwa snapped the remains of her spear in half, grimacing but holding the sharp end. "Yes. You would not know, but this is a planetarium. And now-" She plunged the blade into a thick cable that ran the length of the room, up into the machine. "It is broken."

It's lights flickered as the cable sparked. The lights died again, this time for the last time.

"Ah!" The warrior swept blindly with his blade, surprise mixed with rage quickly turning to fear. "Waagh!? RAAAGH! RAARAGGH!?"

He halberd whistled as it sliced through air, one after another hurled and swung aimlessly. Several dozen more seats were ruined in his struggles, but crouched atop the ruined machine Itsuwa stood far from harm's reach. Though blind herself, she moved carefully and in control, silently dropping down and using arm rests to guide her to an outer wall. She pulled out out her phone and she allowed herself a small smile.

"As I suspected. He can see or sense light with his whole body nearly instantly and has trained himself to react, but that does not matter in the dark."

"I'll... I'll find you! Get over here! Aagh!" He swore as he stumbled upon one of his own weapons, shattering it and his current one together. "D-don't think I care about this little trick! Now come out so I can gut you!"

Her call connected, and she muffled her voice with both hands. "Itsuwa to HQ. I have one under control. Please-" Her eyes widened in mild surprise. "Ah. Yes. Good, 11 o-clock then. But I will need assistance at that point to truly prevent further trouble."

"You damn brat! LU BU DEMANDS YOU TURN ON THE DAMN LIGHTS!"

!~~~~~~~~~!

9:52 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 7: Tokiwadai Middle School

"Oh yeah. I forgot this is where it was."

Though tonight Touma only skirted the grounds of that illustrious, world renowned middle school, home of the finest female espers of their generation, it still weighed heavily on his thoughts. Before this, the buildings had already lost their sound-cancelling paneling, transitioning slowly into the schools, offices, and apartments he was most familiar with. But he had rarely approached from his angle, and the classical white stucco and red brick walls of Tokiwadai contrasted among the sleek and often stark designs of the rest of District 7, including his own modestly priced home.

 _I should just be glad that the circle is probably outside the place. Going in there would just be suffering for me, and I'm sure the thought would upset her even more. Then again, most of the girls are probably at their dormitories..._ The thought made Touma reconsider his path. _Wait, isn't her dorm fairly nearby too? I wonder if it or my apartment are closer to the action instead, on that big clock-face Kazakiri described. Man, I hope not, that'd be just our luck._

He was saving his breath, no longer muttering aloud as he jogged, in full stamina mode. But even so, the adventures of the day and his injuries were taking their effect, and he felt his energy slipping away, dripping like a leaky bucket. It was only when he noticed the leaking sensation was more literal that he looked at his hand, and saw the red patch welling up from his bandage to drip down behind him.

"Crap, the stitches..." Though slow, it was a steady loss of blood he could not afford. Despite his worry he did not stop, only searching himself for some kind of scrap or fabric to stem the flow. Eventually he noticed a bulge in one of his coat's inner pockets, and found a surprise scarf. "Well, that's handy. Kamijou-san gets a lucky break after all."

It was a white, but with green markings he did not look at closely until it was securely tied. He observed the improvised bandage with pride, but when the red blood welled up through it, staining it on and around the little Gekota heads that polka-dotted the scarf's whole length, his heart caught in his throat.

"...Oh, man."

For moment, it was painful, but then Touma could not help but smile.

"Thanks again." He even laughed. "Man, even when she's not here she manages to be here. That's just..."

"Have you resolved your mental dilemma yet, my Understander?"

"Damn it, Othi-chan!" Blushing red, he turned back to shout all too loudly into his hood. "I am getting terrified enough today, I don't need surprise appearances from a Chibi-Magic-God! I know you're hiding both out of necessity and embarrassment, but if you keep waiting until this Kamijou-san is having external monologues to speak up you're going to make me go crazy!"

"Amazing." Othinus shook her little cat head, ears waving. "You understand a Magic-God, yet fail to see your own self. Then again, perhaps that is a contradiction which suits you well."

"Sheesh. I never know when it's a compliment or an insult with you, Othi-chan. At least be forward about deriding me, like everyone else." Though he pouted and moaned as well as he could, Touma could tell his attempt at misdirection failed utterly when her tone was measured and cool.

"It was an observation, you foolish mortal. And here's another." She tweaked his ear with both hands, but softer than usual. "Since when have you been the kind of person to make something simple into something complicated?"

"I... What?" For the first time in a while his pace faltered, but he stubbornly kept jogging. "What do you mean by that? I'm as simple as it gets."

"Precisely my point. Your problems are complex, or at least seem to be to others, when they are filtered through your perspective you make them simple. Your interpretations may take in many considerations and account for alternate views, but that never alters the fundamental character of your assessments. Your solutions are always simple and targeted. You, generally, are also simple. Not necessarily stupid, but always direct and clear. You have no room for maneuvering or subterfuge in your responses. As I say: simple. It's the only part of you that's almost endearing."

"Do you really not see what I mean about the compliments?"

"Quiet. I am pontificating. Just listen to me. Can you not see that you are obsessing about something that requires a simple solution?"

 _I don't want to talk about this._ "I don't want-Can we just move on to what is happening to reality? Have any Magical updates for me or something?"

"Such business can wait." No matter how he tried, the nagging, dubiously moral conscience on his shoulder would not be deterred. So he took a more direct approach.

"Glad to hear you seem confident, very good, good good!" He patted her firmly, on the back with his free hand, pressing her down and trying to slide her back in his hood. "Don't worry then, I've got this all und-Oww, agh!"

"Stop that, your shoulder is too bony!" Enraged she had bit is palm soundly, and did not care at all that it drew tears to his eyes. "Come on now, explain what is making it so hard for you to think about-"

"Fine! Fine, okay." Exasperated, relieved, energized, Touma shook his shoulders like a preparing athlete, jarring Othinus violently. "I said I'd face it head on, so I will!" When she did not answer, and the silence began to stretch into a yawning chasm, he continued with more reluctance. "Look. I feel guilty, but also stupid. Okay? More so than usual."

"Quit the self-deprecation. I understand that much."

"Right, but..." Touma blew air through his lips. "Usually, I like to believe that what I want to do is also the right thing. Like, helping or protecting someone, even if its just to satisfy myself." _Or help someone I care about._ "But sometimes, I've learned that what I want to do at first isn't right at all, because I'm missing something or feeling weak." _Wish I wasn't so easy to fool._ "Then, I usually try to make sure what I want to do aligns with what is right, so that I can do it and feel like I'm doing right and getting what I want. Right?"

"An amenable interpretation, if oddly constructed."

"Okay. That sometimes means I have to realize that what is right, isn't what I thought it was. That some new information or context means that my original gut feeling is just wrong." _Man, I thought that was the case for a while. Maybe I should have listened._ "Sometimes, though, my gut feeling is right, and I've been confused by something else, and then I have to go back and rely on myself again."

"You begin to talk in circles, but yes. Go on." She prompted generously, like a patient teacher with a student who constantly fails to reach an epiphany.

"So basically I don't know what to do. What's right or wrong." _In this particular case, but I'm not saying which._

"...In which case, might I ask?"

 _Damn it._ "Well... What I want to do, and thought I should do, I don't know about any more. I'm worried I'm being selfish, and making a huge mistake. And..." _Don't think about it._ "It's kinda hard and maybe wrong to get more information about it all, like I usually do, because that may just make things worse." _Or push her away._ "But it may also be wrong to do nothing and trust my guy because my gut is pulling my in two directions, towards and away, and I've never really been a conflicted person before, you know? Because. I don't want to. Because I-"

"Because you care about her."

He knew, in his heart, that it was impossible to keep this from the one he understood. And this same Magic-God, this same girl, who had put him through so many Hells, also knew him inside and out, better than anyone. She likely had known for ages, and only now grew frustrated enough at his weaseling attempts to hide the problem so he could deal with it himself.

 _Maybe this really is the first step on the path to doing the right thing._

"...Because I really care about her."

He admitted it. To himself and the world.

And the world did not end.

But their conversation did.

"...Well. So you do. In that case, forget I said anything."

Her piece spoken, and not with an uncharacteristic pause, Othinus retreated into the confines of her shelter. Flabbergasted, Touma turned back to his hood, mouth agape, face flushed.

"What? What!? You can't just-! Othinus! What!? That's so cruel, to force that kind of-"

"Stop. You will not sway me." Her eyes were already closed as she curled tighter into a ball. "I'm not assisting her any more than this, if you're this far along. Just do as you will, and alert me if I'm needed. And close your hood, the cold air is getting in."

Finally Touma did as he was bade, pulling the drawstring tight. But just before he could, he thought he would low-ball one last, easy question. "Also, why would someone call me a "suitor"? What does that mean, aside from what I think it usually means, because-?"

"Stop." Small paws reached out, grasped the hood by its edges, and puckered the hood shut. "Just don't. You don't understand, but don't."

"O-okay then." Feeling truly alone now, Touma stared up at the sky. _Am I really making everyone around me this tense? What's changed?_ "I wonder how this could get worse."

"Oh." Surprisingly, half her face peered out again, just showing her small, delicate lips. "Speaking of getting worse. I should tell you; that is also true of reality and the phases. Even in this diminished state I can feel it quite clearly."

He almost collapsed in the street, the news a final blow to his spirits. "Such misfortune... Eh?" Reality was never one to give Kamijou Touma time to rest. "What's that banging noise?"

As much as he wanted to wallow in self-pity, he could not reasonably ignore whatever was causing such an infernal racket. The noise came from an alleyway whose mouth he stood just before, half-hunched, and it suddenly seemed very much to Touma like the mouth of a monster. He straightened and realized with growing alarm that something very large and very metal was plowing through plastic boxes and trashcans like a rampaging stampede. But his alarm did not grow fast enough for him to avoid being scooped up by a large, mechanical hand and clutched into a tight bear-hug. Screaming, shouting, pounding with his good hand, Touma eventually flailed himself to where he could see the blonde haired, punk looking pilot staring at him.

"...You!?"

"You! What a stroke of luck: I was just trying to get the idiot standing there out of my way! Now get over here!" In a single skilled movement that could have turned the boy's bones to jelly Hamazura Shiage's Power Lifter spun Touma in air, carrying him now over the shoulder. "Hold out that hand of yours, that weird one!" Without another word they set off north as fast as the short legs of the mech suit could carry them.

As much as he wanted to vigorously complain about the wind that had been forced from his lungs and the pain the hard edged shoulder-plates were causing him, one look back at the plant monstrosity that tumbled messily from the very same alley convinced Touma that now was the time for other matters.

Rapid fire balls of Faerie Fire were arcing towards their fleeing backs, much faster than they had moved back in London. But also with worse aim, for more than half engulfed the snow-street in intense green flames. Imagine Breaker caught a few heading towards them and rang out in quick succession but more and more streamed from all over the plant monster that Agnes the Green Witch of Woolpit and her brother had become. It screamed with two voices; one, a low, guttural growl full of spittle, and the other feminine calling out what seemed like a stream of curses both Magical and mundane.

"What did you do?" As they rounded one corner after another and lost sight of the shrieking creature, Touma finally had a second to think. "Seriously, I've fought Agnes before and I've never seen her this mad! I think she's yelling louder in there than her brother, and he's 15 feet tall!"

"Oh, that's her name? Uhm..." Hamazura trailed off, putting on a good act of being nonchalant as he desperately looked for a route to take on his monitor. "...I may have mistakenly thought she was her brother's mother."

Touma stiffened. "Oh. Hey, can you let me off, my stop is actual-"

"Don't even try it, this is YOUR problem now too!"

The quick squeeze and the reappearance of the monster took that option away; the Faerie Fire was quickly spreading, no longer just firing at the backs but passing them on both sides. Their number grew uncountable and overwhelming.

"Your hand. Your hand! Use the hand!"

"That's too much! Go around!"

"Where!?"

Abruptly, they were encircled in the middle of a side street. At the very northern edge, where apartments opened up to broader school lots and businesses, a wall of Magical green flames swirled and spun. Any further and they would have had more chances to hide or evade; here they remained trapped. But the worse thing Touma saw were several lights turning on, window's sliding open, and voices begin to wonder at the glowing display.

Then he had precious little time to worry about the plight of those who thought the fireworks had come early, for the fire collapsed into the two of them them.

!~~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes:**_

[1] Magicians need their bodies to be intact to use Magic it works on carefully controlled life force; Espers just need their minds. Since their spells are all part of their life force, having it cut off mid use is debilitating, this is what happened to Lessar and Itsuwa. And since Solomon is used to fighting other Magicians if anything, he probably would not expect this.

[2] Though it isn't visible on your end, I've been hitting each chapter length between 7000 and 9000 words, most almost always in the 8500 area. I guess I'm getting more consistent. Also, only a few notes this time, but if I missed anything that needs clarification, as always, let me know. I'll update this one, and then make note of it next time. The important point to remember is that some events occur concurrently, but may start at different times. The scenes are always portrayed in order, no matter how confusing; the time stamps serve to illustrate that, and also something else. Til next time!


	70. Part 3: Optional Side Stories 3

**Hello everyone, and a special hello to those who are following these stories. Though I wrote them almost a year ago, they still are quite interesting to me, at least in terms of the historical research and the "stories within a story" framework that I attempt with this journal. This is officially my longest update yet, so I will leave this introduction brief. Welcome back to a Certain Holiday Season, or at least an interlude.**

 **Interlude 3**

 **The Seventh Summon:**

 **Subject:** Afu Asu

 **Temporality:** Circa 1000 - 1500 A.D..

 **Capabilities:** Gemstone/Magician Hybrid.

 **Gemstone Ability:** Though we know the least of Afu Asu from history of all the most recent summons, we know the most about his abilities, especially in light of journals **Entry 19 – 21** below. His gemstone power is related to heat; both the projection and absorption of it. He seems to be able to generate temperatures around his body in excess of 4000 degrees Kelvin; at this temperature nearly all solid matter will at least melt, if not sublimate. The power has not been seen to manifest beyond a foot around him; this limitation renders him a Rank 4 "Thermal Controller".

 **Magical Skills:** As is apparently custom to his caste (See **Entry 19 – 21** ) Asu has been formally trained in magic. However, as is also custom to his caste, his magical knowledge is very limited; his primary technique seems to be transformative Magic, working on the Polynesian traditional principle of layered Earth's. Essentially, the subject Asu can shrink down rock and earth, controlling and manipulating it as dust, before enlarging it at will. He seems to be able to store tens of tons of the material this way, we have yet to determine a limit from reports from but the field. He has little control beyond re-sizing and imparting some velocity to his material, but combined with his Gemstone ability can generate dangerous projectiles.

 **Conclusion:** Though inexperienced and seemingly kind in nature, Asu must be considered a high priority threat. Other gemstones have made it clear they do not intend mass slaughter; his lack of control might cause this, whatever his actual intent be. If Necessarius seeks to reduce damage to our ally Academy City, containment should not be attempted; some means of rendering him unconscious is suggested if it proves preferable he be kept alive.

 **Entry 19: Papa kako`o**

Date: June 20th

 _On the day he discovered his powers, he knew he would have a chance._

The dream begins in a dry hot cave.

Cavernous and echoing with distant footsteps, I sense we are deep underground. But for now, all I can see is a long, narrow chamber, flickering brightly with simple sconces carved from the wall. Everything seems carved from the stone, from a thin table running the length of the hall to the stools upon which a row of a dozen young men sit. Each is wearing nothing but a simple cloth, or sarong of some kind, but while some are standing and waiting, others pour their attention over misshapen lumps of stone. They range from head sized to some smaller than my fist, but each seem equally important to their owner.

I focus on one boy in particular, without a rock to analyze: his eyes are dull, and he wears a bored frown. But suddenly his face lights up, and he watches as a man strides through the door carrying a large woven basket.

Resting it on the desk, the newcomer surveys the table: to each young man sitting idle he gives a hunk of stone, larger than all those before. Some look at theirs with dread, others resignation.

But the one boy seems excited.

"All right... This will be the one, I feel it!" He takes it in both hands, rapidly turning it over, this way and that.

"No it won't." His neighbours rude sigh interrupts his investigation.

"Quiet, doubter. Someone has to care about their craft."

"Yeah, and it's me. You're going too fast again, you've got-"

"I know exactly what I'm doing!" Snapping at his colleague, the first boy sets the rock down upon the table. "All right. Here goes."

"Yeah, another disaster."

Ignoring the comment, he again sets to work, raising his hands to both sides of the rock. His eyes close, and I feel something change.

"...Heart of the Earth Mother..." His fingers clench. "Strength of the Fire Father..." He slams them like claws into the side of the rock, and they somehow pierce it. "Heat of the soul..." The rock quakes and rumbles, but he fights to keep it still.

For a moment, the other workers are distracted, watching his display with moderate interest. He can pay them no mind, and neither can I, for as cracks spread from his punctures he releases his spell.

"Take shape of man!"

The shards fly apart, scattering across the tabletop and to the floor. What is left smokes for a minute, but the boy cannot be made to wait for it to dissipate. He blows on it, waving his hands, and as it clears he remains hopeful.

I see it at the same time he does. It would be generous to call the result a man, though it is cutely round. While I enjoy it, the boy is both disappointed and distraught. "...C-crap."

"Like I thought." Sighing again, his neighbour resumes his own efforts, still studying the rock he has had since the beginning. "You'll need to look that one over again."

"I'm sure I could just... Use the chiselling stone and wear it down some..." Taking up a hunk of darker rock, he has already begun to do just that, striking away at what I assume is meant to be its belly. "No one will notice. It's fine."

"You'd better just start again, Asu. I know you want to make it perfect the first time, but even the master have a hard time with one that large." There is some sympathy now in the criticism, but it is not well received by Asu.

"But that was most of my mana! It'll take hours before-"

"Shouldn't've wasted it, then. Still be faster than trying to shape that down by hand. And they'll notice."

"Ah! There. Overseer! Overseer, I've finished one!" The two turn at the voice, looking down the long table. At the far end, a boy is standing, holding up a small figurine in his hand, like a slightly over-size chess piece.

The analogy is apt, for it looks like it could be a pawn on the boards I have seen at home. It is surprisingly intricate, a tiny stoic face carved onto a simple rounded head, but the body wearing some sort of flowing priestly robes of feathers. Its hands are held open in supplication, ready to make an invisible offering.

It is summarily plucked from the boy's hands, now deftly examined by the man who walked over in response. Presumably the overseer, the man stares at it for a moment.

"...It's small, but it will do. The Great Priest of the Earth Mother and Fire Father welcomes your efforts. You may rest for the day."

"All right!" The youth leaps from his stool and sprints away, tearing off his loincloth heedless of modesty as he turns a corner. His voice echoes distantly back. "Hot springs, here I come!"

"Aargh." Asu's head rests against his own much larger but somehow failed carving. "This was so much easier with the old Great Priest. This new one they chose is really picky..."

"I wouldn't question him so loudly, friend. Apparently he's a real stern man. Let's just finish: soon we can relax."

The reassuring pat on Asu's shoulders does not seem to do much, but he nods all the same.

Slowly they complete their work. Though I watch it all, it seems to go by quickly enough from my perspective, but the hours look like constant torture to Asu, with his spirit broken. Even after a another attempt at the spell, the resultant statue still requires an hour of painful chiselling. He is the third last boy to leave when his offering is finally being examined.

It is pinched around the waist by the Overseer, and he raises his eyebrow mildly. "As always, yours is somewhat larger."

"...S-so...?"

The Overseer ponders a moment, but sighs deeply. "It will do. Go rest."

Wordlessly Asu pushes away from the table. He walks from the room down a long hall, whose end is brightly lit. It seems different from the flames on the walls.

But it is not outdoors he goes to, but instead an immense chamber of incredible spectacle. It's an internal caldera, or some sort of bubble formed from an eruption long past. Now though it is cool, its roof disappearing above and its circularly walls lines with the carved doors and windows of hundreds of dwellings. Water flows nearby following deep set channel, diverted from some surface lake or ocean. But aside from a few men tending to the flow and shoring up artificial banks with simple stone Magics, no one pays any attention; particularly not the morose Asu. A whole city exists here, full of at least a thousand people, but no one realizes how remarkable this is.

He crosses over a bridge, waving mildly to some other boys and bowing curtly to some older men. A gaggle of boy even younger than he tumble playfully by: he gives them birth without a second thought. Eventually he is clear of them and the buried city and enters another tunnel, this one sloping up. It is not longer before steam fills the air.

The next chamber he enters a series of interconnected caves. Bubble like, each is fill half-filled with water, small stone lips serving as seats. Thereupon he sits, next to his friend and workmate-neighbour from before. But while first boy is relaxing, Asu hangs his head in defeat.

"Gah. Another wasted day."

"Wasted? Asu, you know the value of this work."

"Yes, yes, but-" Asu sighed, his efforts to stave off the coming lecture failing.

"The vessels we carve are offerings of the divine form we have been blessed, as the chosen people brought about by the union of the Fire Father and the Earth Mother. We must recognize this with offerings to them in our craft and labour, that they may continue to guide us. You know they have given us this perfect land as shelter from our enemies, and protect us from the world above! This is a small price to pay, rendering them offerings once and a while!"

"Right, I get it! I get it." Asu took his reprieve with ill grace, frowning heavily. "...Still. Mine hardly ended up any larger than his."

His friend took the chance to tease him. "Or mine. And yours was still overweight."

"You didn't see the final result, you pebble."

"Didn't have to."

They muse for a mute minute.

Their feet dangle in the bubbling bath. It froths grey, naturally heated and mineral rich. It looks rather inviting, and eventually Asu slips in. His head dips underneath but quickly resurfaces, and he leans back against the wall, still half-submerged. Eventually he speaks again.

"I don't know why mine keep coming out like that!"

"Ah, don't stress about it. You've got no talent for the small detail, but you're quite good at larger projects." His friend mocks and chides in equal measure, tapping Asu on the top of his head. "We can thank the Gods in our own ways. You should really try to specialize with the Barricaders, they could use your talent. You're just not meant to be a Shaper."

"I sometimes go help them. Just when I'm tired and want to fill my daily work quota quickly." Asu sinks a little deeper in to the waters, sighing. "You know why I don't want that life forever, though. If I can make a big enough idol to channel power, I'll get a chance to become a warrior. You know that."  
His friend leans over, winking broadly. "You only want that to see what girls are like." He is reward with instantly splashed water.

"I DO NOT! We don't even really know what they're all about, we haven't ever been allowed to see one! Why would I be curious!?"  
I begin to understand why I saw no women or girls before in that great city, but the other boy goes on, wiping water calmly from his face. "Yeah, but they're the only reason guys want to really be warriors from what I hear. I don't see the point otherwise, It's all hard work and danger. Who wants to leave the tunnels? The surface sounds strange, where they are all."

"And glory and honour and being of service to the community, protecting us from other islands! And adventure and being Outside and excitement-"

"And girls."

"Will you stop that!?"

His plea is ignored. With a sly look, the other boy leans close. "I hear that girls are really fierce, and super dangerous. That's why only the warriors and some few adults can do go see them."

"M-maybe, but even so-"

"And that sometimes they scare the warriors, and can rule over them with iron fists! They have a strange power-"

"Please, cut it out-"

"-and they're super soft in places we're not. Like, softer than the softest bedding they weave and send down from up there."

There is a pause.

"...W-why is that important?" Asu is suddenly intensely curious. "Do we use them like a bed?"

"Beats me, but I kinda want to find out. And I know you do to."

I cannot tell if they are blushing, or if it merely the heat.

"...I-I just, want to go see outside, what it's like." Asu sinks deeper, up to his neck. "...Dad used to tell me stories. It sounds really good up there. Full of new things."

"...And girls."

"Knock it OFF!"

The other boy falls into the water from the sudden shove, but seems to enjoy it. At least, he spends several seconds underwater before surfacing with a sigh.

"Mmm. But you know, it's not so bad down here." He stretches and explains, working out the kinks of his stiff back. "I hear that up there, the only warmth comes from a great fire in the sky, and that half the time it's not there, just replaced by its corpse."

"Don't believe that's nonsense. The warriors and overseers just like to tease us. Why would they put the women up there, if it was like that?"

"I don't know. Maybe they are just tougher than we are. Maybe they're monsters. Maybe it's just the way it's always been. Still, it's nice down here. Why risk change?"

"Bah. Besides, 'nice' is overrated. It's all the same in here!"

"Well, only the warriors and the Grand Priest can go out, so we have to believe them. They're just a higher rank, you know that." The boy pauses, stirring his shoulders. "Say, is it getting a little warm in here?"

"That too! I hate all that rank stuff. We're all serving the Gods together!" I can feel Asu clench underwater, almost shaking with his annoyance. "Why they gotta act so high and mighty!?"

"Kinda their job, friend. Ah, I'm getting out." The other boy splashes onto the ledge. "It's definitely getting warm. More bubbles, too. Strange..."

Asu does not seem to mind the heat. "My strength is just as useful as theirs! I do so well in the fitness exercises, and in Rock Ball! [1] I can definitely fight!"

Dangling one toe in the water, the other boy winces and withdraws. "You sort of lack the temperament, not angry enough."

"I HAVE PLENTY OF ANGER!"

"Okay, settle down!" The boy backs away from the water's edge as far as he can, avoiding the splashing fury. "Careful, that's scalding! You oughta climb out, Asu-"

"AGH, I'M JUST SO MAD!" Standing upright, waist deep in the roiling waters, the boy cares not a whit. "WHY THE HELL CAN'T I CATCH A BREAK!?"

With his friend, my alarm grows. Before, the water of the hot spring gentled bubble, but now it begins to roil. It is heating far, far more than I can accept as healthy; steam rushes from the surface, threatening to cook the other boy even as he tries to huddle away from it. It fills the air, and pours down the tunnels.

But though the air is filling with steam, it grow weighty from another matter. I feel something else, the familiar stirring of power that I felt in the others.

"Asu! _ASU_!"

Standing in the rapidly draining waters, Asu does not hear. But he notices when a good sized rock bounces off the back of his head. He tumbles forward with a cry, splashing into the water as a pounding footsteps echo up from the path. By the time he resurfaces and the water begins to calm, he has an audience.

"What is going on in here!?" Three angry yet anxious men block the hot springs' exit, faces pale as they wave away the clouds of vapour. "Who is doing un-authorized digging!?"

"W-what? What do you mean?" Though half stunned, Asu is the only one able to respond, his friend still choking for air.

For a moment, the leader of the three men pauses: he takes in the scene, and rapidly changes tack. "...Steam is pouring down into the city! We thought there was a breach, but this place has been fortified from lava flows and...?" All three men look back to Asu in turn. Around him, the flow of steam has just begun to slow. The one who spoke looks about to ask a question.

"It was us!" Asu is lost; he looks back as his friend shouts across the water.

"We, were, ah..." The other boy hesitates. "Throwing heated stones in the water, making it hotter. He said he was tough enough, so I dared him to see how long he could last..."

The three men gradually look to to each other. Their leader sighs, wiping his face as the last of the steam dissipates.

"...T-though I am glad to hear it was nothing serious, be more responsible! You had us all worried! Now, no more of that, or it'll be dredging duty for a week!"

The boys nod and agree, thankful to be let off the hook. They watch the men leave together, both now drip-drying at the entrance to the springs.

"...Thanks, man."

"No worries, Asu. So, what the Hell did you do?"

Asu rears back in surprise. "Me!?"

"Yeah, you!" His friend points to the water. "You were all glowing, like a stone pulled from the fire. That's how I came up with that lie. So what'd you do? That was you, wasn't it?"

"I don't know! Maybe!? This has never happened to me before, I swear!" He is flustered. "It's my first time!"

"Well, be more careful, whatever it was. I don't want to get in trouble."

The two begin to walk back down to the central chamber and city, but Asu lags behind. "Say... You think this could make them take me as a warrior? Despite the offering?"

"You made a hot spring hotter, Asu. That's not that impressive."

"Just thinking out loud!" He catches up, but then clasps his and upon his friends shoulder. "...This is our secret, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. No worries, you can trust me. But, Say, Asu..."

They look at each other. The friend slowly breaks out into a sly grin. Asu's worry deepens. "What...?"

"How about we go back and you swim into another bubble as I distract them, and we boil the other boys a little? They'll never figure it out, I promise!"

"...That's not really keeping it a secret." But Asu's worry cracks into a smile. "...But it sounds like a great idea."

They run back up towards the hot springs.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

This entry has been much delayed. I do not know how I contracted this seasickness I was diagnosed with, but I will have to be more careful. And never go upon a boat again.

But I have made it to America. I hear this is for many people a momentous occasion. But it feels just as loud and noisy as London and Dublin were. Perhaps worse. I sympathize with you, Songbird. I miss the compound's quiet. I suppose I have another kinship with many of these individuals: they all seem to have been isolated. I can hardly imagine living in underground, separated entirely from the other gender... Then again, I have recently learned my own upbringing was something of a statistical anomaly, so perhaps I am being unfair.

For now, my

[Orsola's note: here, the words 'former home' have been imperfectly scratched out.]

that place is a distant concern, because I believe they have given up pursuit. At least I have lost them for now, for my sentries have not reacted to anything. This means I have some freedom to begin my search.

I have heard from various sources that my target used to reside on the opposite coast but has since moved around here. Some place named Boston is my goal; I wonder if travel is easy to arrange here. I still have no money, and nothing to barter. And the last time I tried that, I got some strange looks indeed. Maybe they don't do that kind of transaction anymore. I never did get a history book from more recent than the dark ages.

Whatever the case, I will get down there eventually, even if I have to walk stealing food as I go. This is all I have left to try, really.

I have nearly forgotten. This dream vision is almost quaint, and I somehow feel something familiar in Asu's strange little community. Still, it will end badly, so there is hardly any point worrying about it. I will do research when I have established a more permanent base of operations.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 20: Ahi Kupuna**

Date: June 24th

The dream begins at the end of a dark, dark tunnel. Distantly I hear a confused crashing of rocks as if from a cave-in. It seems more regular, almost controlled. But in this cave, the only sound is the echo.

I can vaguely discern a dark shape, sitting on the floor to lean against a smooth wall. Its arms are crossed, and they gently rise and fall as the person they belong to breathes.

Eventually he twitches, rolling over to his side. I see a flicker of torchlight, deep down the tunnel, and hear approaching footsteps. Amid the clattering of far-over stones as the shadowed person gropes with both hands the floor, searching for something. Soon a light is shining upon the back of the young man I recognize as Asu, somewhat older but only somewhat.

It is held by another man, only a few years older by the look of it. But he sternly gazes down at Asu's back, for the crouching youth has yet to turn, still digging through a scattered pile of small boulders.

"What do you think you are doing here, boy?"

Asu finally spins around, calmly holding up a stick of wood. He deftly presses it to its brother before his supervisor can react and it roars into life.

"Thanks, Overseer, my torch went out. Now I can-"

"Don't give me that you, you lazy youth. You never returned to the entrance to to dump off your dug stone: you were slacking off again." The Overseer spits the words, pressing forward intimidatingly.

Asu does not back down. "You know I can hold more than anyone. And am I not ahead of quota? Look," He gestures behind him. "I have gotten further in than any others: I should reach the source-flow in less than a day tomorrow."

"You could have done it _today_ had you tried harder." The Overseer snarls, but catches himself just before his finger pressed into the taller, stronger man's chest. Instead he pulls back and stares coolly at his worker. "The Great Priest expects more effort from his flock. You would do well to remember he is watching."

"I give everything to the community, Overseer."

"That is not what I said. Now, get back to work."

But Asu does not listen, instead watching his supervisor hobble away. I can read the disquiet on his features.

"...Everything's so different these days."

Eventually he does return to work. It is a sight to behold, though he treats it as casually as playing with sand. Reaching out his hands, he touches them to solid stone walls. In an instant, they are gone, and her thrusts his hand into small pouches at his side. He repeats this, digging out another fifteen foot section of walkable tunnel in mere minutes.

He pauses, hardly bothered by his labour, but suddenly flinches as what must be a huge horn is blown. It rattles stones in the tunnel, shaking the very earth itself with its thundering bellow.

"Really? This close to end of shift, and he came all the way...? What a lump he is." Striding angrily back down his tunnel, Asu quickly breaches the end, and comes into a crowd of his peers, men and boys of all ages. To one side, I see the large horn that had blown the signal earlier: it is a strange tube of hollowed out rock, half carved from the walls of the cave itself.

This new chamber, though similar in shape to the main community I saw in the last dream, is much smaller and feels warmer, more so than can be explained by the crowd of bodies: I wonder how deep we have come. As Asu pushes forward I can see that it also lacks much of the floor-space: there is only a ring of stone around the perimeter and a thick pillar in the room's centre to stand upon. The only connections between the two are a trio of simple stone bridges, wreathed with thin tongues of curling smog. I realize the rest of the chamber continues down in a deep, steep precipice, bottomed only by a glowing ring of red.

Atop this central pillar stands a proud man. His eyes are cool, his beard short but neat, and his dress adorned with red jewels and regalia. He stands calmly atop a pedestal, resting both hands on a thick stone staff. It must be heavy but he is fit enough to lift it calmly in one hand, sweeping it around the chamber to pass over all his audience.

"Servants of the Earth Mother and Fire Father. Hear me, now."

What little chatter there is ceases quickly.

"There is much work to still be done: we must dig ever deeper to secure ourselves from that which threatens us. We all must sacrifice our time and strength. Myself, as Grand Priest, my warriors, and you, my workers: we all have a part to play."

"We, we, we." Asu snorts quietly and carefully. I see he eyes a man who fits the description of a warrior. The short but burly figure is watching the crowd, both hands gripping the handle of a huge stone hammer. Asu looks away in time to avoid eye contact, and we both refocus on the Grand Priest.

"...and I know the work is difficult. But this latest expansion will secure our future for generations. My communes with the Earth Mother and Fire Father have told me as much: it is a necessary trial. But it is a trial we shall soon overcome. For now, go to your homes and rest. Return tomorrow with your strength renewed! For there is still much to do."

The crowd begins to awkwardly disperse, taking several tunnels sloping back upwards into the wall, but Asu waits. He watches as the pedestal and Grand Priest together drop into the ground and disappear into the larger pillar on which they stood. The hole remains for a moment until the rock raises back up, this time alone.

"Asu. Hey, Asu?"

A hand shakes the young man's shoulder before pulling him around. There stand the friend from the hot tub, a weary smile cracking his face. "We should go. They don't like us hanging around here after an audience, remember?"

"Fine. All right."

Asu lets himself be lead by his friend behind tail end of the crowd, taking a set of wide stairs carved into the stone. Petulantly, Asu follows behind, listening as the other young man chatters idly.

"Man, another long day of Tunnelling, huh? What boring, mindless work. At least it's simple, eh?"

"Mmm."

"Yeah, this is definitely work for you, I agree. After all, I'm a much better Shaper than I am a Tunneller."

"Mmm."

"You know, come to think of it, we're all just Tunnellers now, aren't we? I can't remember talking to anybody about Shaping or anything but emergency Barricading in ages... Still, I really just don't like the tunnelling part."

"...I don't like it."

"I just said the same thing, Asu."

"No, I mean, this is wrong." His friend climbs several more steps before he realizes Asu has stopped, but as he turns Asu speaks before he can. "...Do you have any idea of the point of this new dig?"

"Oh, Earth Mother, _this_ again." His friend moans, but it hides weak laughter. He rolls his eyes and tries to press ahead as Asu raises his arms dramatically.

"What!? Don't give me that! Is it wrong to want to know-"

"Only if you don't mind a hammer on your toes. That'll be what happens the next time an Overseer or Warrior hears you."

"...Or worse."

Their eyes meet for a moment. The laughter in their faces has died.

"...Don't say that."

"Because I am wrong?"

Asu looks upward to his friend as he poses the question, but there is no answer as they stand silently on separate stairs.

Finally the other young man sighs, turning to continue the climb. "You know this goes nowhere."

"Well, tell me then. So why do all the most vocal opponents of the Great Priest suddenly agree to help with his secret, long term project?"

"His charisma?" The chuckle is forced. I'm quite used to that sound.

"Don't make me laugh." Apparently so is Asu.

"And don't make me worried." The friend slumps to the ground of a step, resting heaving on knees. "Asu, you are making trouble for no good. Is all this digging really worth... Hold on, I mean you digging about the Great Priest's business, not the literal digging, I-"

"Yes, it is." Asu's voice is firm. "I know this is wrong. Some of the older folks are complaining, but they're being kept in line by the Great Priest's cronies."

"You mean his Overseers? And you know, the Warriors? That group you've always wanted to join?"

"This isn't what it's supposed to be like! Something has changed in the last few years. They're trying to act like its normal, but it just not."

"Maybe it for our own good, you know? They know much more than we both do, right?"

The question hangs in the air. Even Asu peers around cautiously for prying ears.

"...You know I doubt it. This Great..." He checks himself. "...A certain man we both know is a complete fault-line when it comes to leadership.[2] I mean, the old Great Priest's never talked down to us like that in assemblies."

"You're real subtle today. Look, even _if_ I agreed with you, what's the point? What are we going to do?"  
"I don't know. Demand an explanation? Rally together, and camp outside his apartments until-!?"

"W-what are you even suggesting!?" His friend spins in horror, his suddenly flurry of motion cutting the idea short mere feet before they reached the stairs upper exit. He drops to a harsh whisper as he scurries back down. "Asu, that's revolution against the Earth Mother and Fire Father!"

"No, not them, the-" His friends hand clasp's over the young man's lips. A pair of warriors walking past glance at the struggling duo for only a second before moving on with disdainful expression.

They soon pass, and the two relax.

"Look, Asu, I'll do you a favour and pretend I never heard any of this. You're just tired from a long day, not thinking straight. Go down to the hot springs and rest, all right?"

"But-"

"No, I sympathize, I really do. After all, it's not like you could possibly get into any trouble there, right? Just go rest, and think back to better times."

"Better times?" Asu frowns, shaking his head violently. "No! Nostalgia isn't going to-"

"No, it is. Trust me." His friend is suddenly intense. "Remember that time we... Goofed around pranking the other Apprentice Shapers? Go think about that. And, ah, I'll see you around."

His friend disappears in a small crowd. With that Asu is left alone, standing mildly stunned at the top of the long staircase. The young man frowns, but his brow is creased with thought.

"...Weird."

Half-hearted he wanders down into the town. It is quieter than I recall from the last dream, full of men tired after working a long day. The children are missing; they may be asleep. While I wonder at how they tell time in this underground world, Asu apparently has taken the advice given to heart. Steam fills the air as he heads into the hot springs, sullenly splashing down.

Whatever relaxation the frothing waters usually offer, Asu cannot find it. He spends a long while as other bathers come and go, quietly talking and rarely laughing to each other. Eventually he is alone with his thoughts, only myself as invisible witness.

He sits.

He frowns.

He sits and frowns.

"Wait."

His eyes widen.

"Ah, that's it! I get it! Nothing but loose rocks in my head, I swear..." Asu's passive resting ends abruptly as he spins around in the water. I watch confused as he presses his cheek to the rock face of the cavern, tapping various walls. "Those men must have worried that..."

His efforts pause. I can hear no difference in the tap-tap-tapping he makes upon the stony surface.

But he can. A slow grin spreads across his face, and he clasps his hands together. He mutters something under his breath, an incantation I realize as a small hole crumbles through the wall, like he dug his tunnel earlier. It disappears several feet into the rock, but something from within glows red into the dim hot spring.

"...I knew it. A tunnel!"

Pulling himself from the pool Asu clambers upon a nearby ledge, quickly working to widen the hole above the water line. His torso can already fit inside when he suddenly stops, scanning his chamber and the adjoining tunnels in panic.

Yet no one comes to investigate; not this time. He eventually continues, more paranoid than before. Slowly his headway accelerates until suddenly he is through, falling into a low-ceiling'd tunnel. His thick dark hair scrapes against the roof as he pivots, frowning distastefully at the hole he had made.

"Hate this part..." His hand slips back into his pocket as he performs a new trick; the stone he has carved away returns to its place. It is visibly damaged, but in the poor light the cracks blend into the shadows enough for his liking.

"Good enough. Now-" Asu attempts to straighten ends in pain; he rubs his watery eyes as he drops into a crawl, squinting in the reddish glow. "...Where does this lead, I wonder?"

Before I could feel the heat of the hot springs' steam, but now it grows. Even within the dream I recoil yet somehow Asu carries on, on hand and knee as he spirals downwards through a carved path.

"Oh. Just a magma reservoir. Of course that's what it is." He blinks with annoyance at the heated rock beneath his feet: drips of water from above turn to steam and fill the air. I can only guess this is what heats the waters of the bath's above; whether it is natural or man-made I can not say. He is forced to stoop under the low ceiling as he makes his way back up to the baths, but just as he readies himself to return to his bathing he pauses.

He looks around the small tunnel.

"...But why would there be a service path up here in the first place?"

I am grateful he vocalizes his thoughts; there is a great deal I would have no context for without his musing. So when he go back down with renewed vigour I can assume he has reflected upon something. Back within the steam chamber he begins his search, checking the rocks faces like before.

Soon he finds his prize. In short order he has uncovered another air pocket, and like before he crawls through seals it behind him.

A smile fills his face as he takes in the brightly lit cavern he has stumbled into, crudely shaped but surprisingly large. I can not help but share his eager curiosity. "I've never seen... When were these chambers carved?" With childlike innocence he pores over the rocks, ignoring the pair of bright wall-sconces and the tunnel they rest above.

Unlike the other tunnels of this underground room, it is quiet. No other people, no voice: it seems wrong to me, but I can not determine why before the dark tunnels capture his interest. He arbitrarily chooses left and steps forth boldly, silhouetted by the wall-sconces of the room behind him.

His hand runs along the rough wall, but a problem arises. His tunnel splits, then splits again. Several more merge into one, then split apart again, and at every turn Asu unthinkingly presses on.

"What a maze... It's like they're trying to keep people out." His muttering fills the labyrinth.

He wanders further. I suspect he is right as he gets nowhere.

"Or maybe its a magma channel... Are they expanding the hot springs?"

Further still. Nowhere still.

"Yeah, they definitely want to run magma here."

I recall at this point I grew very weary of his efforts. Despite my best efforts I can not recall how long this goes on before he says something of substance.

"We've got to be under the city by now... That's just silly. No one could-"

A flicker of light in the blackness catches his eye. It grows closer.

"Ah, there. I'll just ask..."

Asu freezes. Even in the darkness I can see his face pale. He slaps both hands to his lips as he finally seems to have determined he is somewhere he should not be.

Twisting back the way he came, he sees with horror another light. The grow brighter on both sides, and his shadowed safety shrinks. He presses up against the wall, suddenly very small.

I am certain had he been calmer Asu might have dug himself a hiding spot, but it far too late now. Footsteps shuffle closer from both sides. He lowers his hands from his face, shaking as he pulls them into fists.

Suddenly he steps forwards, readying a battle cry.

Two hands reach around his face, silencing him.

His eyes widen as we both realize they are not his own. Instead their arms extend up into the ceiling.

Two more hands grasp his left shoulder; two more the right. With a sudden heave they lift him up into the ceiling and his feet disappear into the darkness.

Despite my surprise I am forced to follow, carried along by the dream; I feel his panic and lightly kicking fight as the lights sweep below. They are torches, carried by two spear toting men, a pair of burly and bored sentries on patrol.

As they meet beneath him one slaps the other with the shaft of his weapon. "See? Nothing. Just echoes from above."

The other growls, but eventually shakes his shoulders. "Fine, fine, you're right again, but it could have been someone. Let's just get back, its our shift at the prison."

They move along, and darkness returns.

For a while all is still save for Asu's beating heart. I can still feel the hands pinning him down at his shoulders, but the slowly loosen their grip. The pair on his lips do not, but suddenly a small torch is lit.

I realize now that the tunnel Asu had been in intersected with another running crosswise above: they met in a gap on the floor just wide enough to fit the startled captive. And he had been captured, but not by guards: three men total crouched in the tunnel, two old. But the one with his hands on Asu's lips was a familiar face.

"Will you keep quiet this time, Asu?"

The young man nods as fervently as he dares, and his friend and workmate lets him speak again.

"It's you!? What are you doing down here?"

"Keeping you alive. I know you are slow, but assumed you would realize this was a dangerous place on your own."

"Slow? I'm not-!" He is hushed, and Asu continues more carefully. "What is this place? What's even happening?"

"Just follow. I'll explain."

The two other men look doubtful, but soon all four carefully make way down a tunnel. It is pitch black, but I can feel the stone under Asu's hand as he trails it upon the wall, following his friend's soft voice.

"All right, Asu, I'll start from the beginning, but I have to make it quick. What you need to know is that when you first started commenting months back, how the city was changing, I agreed. I did some careful asking around and found that others had been concerned before even we were. Ever since the old Great Priest passed on. The Great Priest is definitely scheming."

Sensing the pause, Asu speaks up. "If you agreed why did you stop me-"

"Because you weren't the first who went that route. Remember all the others who complained?" The question hung in the air. "You heard the Warriors below. They mentioned a prison. We know of it, but can't find it yet... Which is why we finally need you."

"Wait, prison? We have cells, but..." Asu suddenly stops, but he ignores the older man bumping into his back. "Why didn't you tell me all of this sooner!?"

"You're not very subtle."

"What!?"

The harsh whisper echoes down the cave, as does the hollow sound of Asu's head being smacked from behind. When the sound dies down, his friend sighs. "Look, you were already being watched; you tend to make a scene, so I couldn't just fill you in whenever. We're only bringing you into the fold now because we're almost ready to make our move. With you here, of course."

"The what? With me? What?"

"Just wait. Our leader will explain more. We're pretty much..."

The dark tunnel opens abruptly into a dimly lit chamber. A small group of men await their arrival, their numbers swelling to just under a dozen with the new arrivals. Asu blinks nervously; neither he nor I can make out their faces well. But one, with a fairly substantial beard, speaks.

"Asu. Do you know why you are here?"

"...No?"

"Do you know why _we_ are here?"

"No."

"...Do you see that something is wrong with our society?"

"...Ah! Yes, I do! The Great Priest!"

The old man finally nods; I sense his relief. "Good enough. We agree. And we have been watching." He stretches his arms out, gesturing around him. "These caverns have not been dug by us, not by free men. But they are new, and often used. We found them only by accident, following a careless guard, going a different way than you."

"I told you, didn't I?" Asu's friend interrupts, ignoring the rudeness. "No one else could stand they heat to make it through that route. But Asu is different... I am certain he can survive."

"That may be so..." The old man's head bobs weakly in the darkness.

"Survive? Survive what?" Asu seems even more confused than I.

"That will come in time, youth. For now, know that we seek to understand the truth of the Great Priest's actions. We must find an answer so that the people of the Earth Mother and Fire Father can decide for themselves their path. The only one who knows for certain must be the Great Priest himself. But if he is rounding up dissidents to do so..."

Asu nods, slowly agreeing. "It cannot be for good."

"We agree. Asu, are you aware of what these tunnels must be for?"

"...Magma, right? I mean, there are way too many for a hot spring but that's the only thing-"

"Yes, magma. We suspect he plans to flood these tunnels and chambers under the city with magma."

"What!?" Asu's horror rebounds inside the cavern. "But why!? I mean, it's not quite close enough to cook everyone but-"

"We do not yet know. We need evidence of his plans. But anything that would incriminate is hidden within his chamber." The old man stretches, falling stiffly to lean against the wall behind him. "You know the inner sanctum, where he gives his proclamations."

Asu cautiously nods again, but I remember clearly the vast ringed chamber, and the central column into which the Great Priest descended.

"The chamber was dug by an ancient Great Priest, designed to be close to the Earth Mother and Fire Father both. All around it is hot gas and smoke, bleeding off open magma flows far below. Such smoke, and his personal guard at the only surface entrance, keep his chambers very safe indeed. Such protected quarters were justified for religious and magical purposes. Now it is used to keep prying eyes out."

"Which is where you come in, Asu." The young man turns to his friend, hardly able to contain his growing excitement. "You see we've managed to scout out the chamber around the central column, but the only point which is close enough to the out wall is just above the open lava, it's just too hot! But you seem to have incredible tolerance to heat like we discovered in the hot springs, that's why I had you come in through the tunnel in the hot springs, to prove it, so maybe you could manage to build a bridge and tunnel into his chambers and find evidence!"

The cavern fell silent.

"...As you can see, young Asu, we need your skill." The old man is shaking his head, but I can hear light laughter under his breath. "Tomorrow, we prepare to expose his plans, and restore the rightful rule of the Earth Mother and Fire Father. Asu, are you with us?"

"Of course I am!"

The group nods their approval, and quickly disperse. Asu looks around, alarmed, but is reassured by the elder, the last remaining aside from him and his friend.

"We must go to our homes, or else we will be discovered. There are more of us, but we do not all meet together. But you two should go now, and find us proof to overthrow this tyranny."

But something stirs and tumbles, a hollow crumbling noise.

"Careful. That's my foot."

"Sorry."

The scratching goes on and on, softer now.

Suddenly I can see. The light pours in from an open hole, but with it spills an intense heat. The two youths flinch back. I can see now in the harsh red glow that it is Asu and his nameless friend. The latter steps well back, gasping for clearer air deeper back in the tunnel they had dug.

"Are you okay?"

The young man waves away the question. "Yes, I'm fine. I'll remain here, and wait for your return. Make sure you find something useful."

"Don't worry, I'll get proof."

With that simple statement, Asu steps out into the heat. I can hardly bear it even in my dream, but he does not seem to even notice.

I find myself thrust with him into an odd chamber. The first thing I notice is a wide, slow-flowing river of magma below. It cuts around a large central pillar, splitting and reforming once it passes. Its surface churns, half-solid plates forming and reforming, radiating smog and fire through the gaps.

The danger could not be more than a few meters below, but Asu hardly spares it a glance. His eyes are on a large central pillar.

"So I'm supposed to build a bridge over there. It's still pretty far away... I guess it is closer down here, so it should be safer..." Asu waits for a moment, but soon pulls his head back inside. "...It's not that hot you know."

"It's actual molten rock! It's as hot as it gets!"

"Such a pebble." Asu murmurs, pushes back out again, and begins to work.

Even without the heat I would be impressed by his skill. I don't see any glue or mortar but he some balances each rock on the next, building up an angled spire. It abuts over the magma below, raising up and gently curving towards the central pillar. He has cleared most of the distance, but it appears he can build no further.

"Well, here we go." Only I can hear Asu as he murmurs and throws himself from the end.

Even dreaming I feel my heart clench. His chest collides with the scalding rock face of the central column. It is not quite vertical, so he manages to hold on to his grip, sliding only a short way. Unhurriedly he sets to digging, tossing rock backwards into the magma. They plop and sizzle, but quickly he has burrowed his way inside.

He digs and digs for a minute, seemingly unconcerned with his brush with death. He is quiet again, Magically removing rock by rock and placing what he cannot toss aside into the pouch tied by cord to his waist.

It is not long before he begins to break through. Here he pauses and listens.

Several long minutes pass. I feel Asu grow impatient. Eventually he raises his hand again and light bursts through the rock wall. It is dim, but he presses his eye forward.

Flickering torches dance before his eyes, but the grand room is otherwise motionless. I guess this must be the private chambers of the Great Priest, given its relative size and wealth. There is a large bed of finely woven straw, a basin of clear-looking water, and what seems to be a desk carved out of the opposite wall.

It is there Asu goes, having widened his initial breach. As he approaches I see more clearly it is not just a desk, but some kind of altar. I recognize none of the arcane magic upon it, but I do seem something rather unexpected.

There appears to be some kind of map. I recognize nothing but vague shapes; there are many islands pictured, scattered inside a broad expanse of water.

"...What in Earth is this?" He grasps it by a corner, letting it dangle and flap. "It's so thin, but rough... Is it a really flat reed? Something pressed?"

I realize he has never seen paper before. He is fascinated by the invention, but is not so distracted that he misses a second sheet of paper, another map, falling free from the first. This one I can barely understand, just winding lines.

"...The tunnels!" His eyes are wide and he drops the first map. His fingers trace with rapid familiarity over the contours of the second. "...These are the lava channels. This is the city centre... This is..."

Footsteps.

A swipe of his hand and both maps are his. He dashes through his tunnel and across his bridge, over the lava. His friend awaits him, eyes wide at the hurry.

"Asu! What's wrong- What are those things?" His question goes ignored as Asu spins around and slams his fist into the base of his rocky spire. The whole construction falls apart at once and splashes into the lava below. The noise cannot quite drown out a sudden shout from the Great Priest's chamber.

"Proof! Go!"

The tunnel is dark; they scurry like rats back the way they came. For a minute they run breathlessly, but eventually his friend is unable to be silent. They carry on, but he softly voices his urgent question.

"Did you find something?"

"Some kind of wall carving. But not one rock. Or on really soft rock. Don't know."

"Good enough! If that's proof, Asu, we've got to meet back up with the others. We have to act fast, they know, we've got to find someone who c-" The tunnel shakes then crumbles ahead of them. A rush of dirt and dust fills they are as they are forced back.

"They're ahead of us too!? Can we double back-"

They freeze as distant voices approach from behind.

"We're cut off! Where can we...?" His friend's voice shakes with fear when his face is suddenly lit by a red glow. It comes from Asu's fist, raised high and glowing hot. "What are you doing!? Put that light out!"

"No, I need to see!" The other young man is pouring over the map. "...There should be another tunnel right below, let's dig!" Asu cools his hand and deftly rolls the map before beginning to Magically dig into the floor.

His friend remains frozen. "T-that won't help, they know these tunnels! We can't escape them, we have to surrender! Listen!" The voices grow in number, and they echo towards the two. "Maybe they'll just capture us, and we can escape. Listen, our only chance is-"

"Split up."

I can feel Asu has stood up from his work, but neither I nor his friend can see anything. "What-"

There is a sudden flurry of motion and I realize one of them is missing. Something impacts several feet below with a heavy thud.

"-Gagh!" A startled voice calls up. "A-Asu!?"

Something else flutters down from Asu's hands as he responds. "Take them to the others! Go! Run!"

The feet are upon him, but Asu spares no time for goodbyes, quickly refilling the hole, hiding the evidence another has escaped. He does not have time to turn before something strikes him.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

I have discovered I am poor.

I do not enjoy the experience, or being hungry and cold and ashamed of stealing every little thing I need to survive. There were perks, however cold or unfriendly it was, to life with the cabal. I guess I should just be glad it is very easy for my toys to do the stealing for me. I've seen others get caught. I do not want to get caught.

But like I said before, it is far too late to worry about the consequences of my heritage. I still must find my target. For someone who was so famous before, he is surprisingly well hidden. It is good that his name is well known; I have been sitting in cafes around this town, asking any who will listen. While most do just that, some few have mentioned rumours of him being near. It is something to work from, at least. Apparently The Amazing Amazo has been frequenting "bars" and making a name for himself, but from the sound of their words they judge him ill for this. I have never taken alcohol, but I am lead to assume it is not exactly socially accepted.

But he is my only target and hope. Whatever happens now I have to see it through.

Worse still than this uncertainty. I think I have been followed from England after all. Several of my toys have gone missing, and though I can steal more I have precious few that suit, as America is a land where few things are made of natural, unprocessed living materials. I had not expected such a challenge, but I will persevere.

Oh, yes, the dream. This one was very complicated. I don't really care any more what is going to happen, or how it is going to go wrong.

It will.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 21: Make Ku**

Date: June 29th

The dream begins in utter darkness.

I can feel something rough on Asu's body. I assume it must still be him I dream of, but I can not tell for certain yet. I can only hear: distant moans, even more distant shouting, and a much nearer cough. It is Asu, and he has awoken.

The darkness is omnipresent. I can only determine we are in some form of chamber when a circle appears ahead of us. It is a hole, lit from the other side by a passing torch. It grows suddenly bright.

I wish I could blink blearily like Asu when the light blinds him, but I am forced to watch in pain when a face appears. It gazes impassively at the young man. In the more controlled light I can see Asu's disturbing state.

Only his head is visible. The rest of him is bound in thick rope and vine, woven tightly into a cocoon. The analogy is grossly apt as he hangs from the ceiling upside down. He sways slightly from his own brief motion, in what must be a necessary if grim prison arrangement. For a society where stone itself is malleable, rope must be a more effective deterrent.

The face stares. Then disappears.

The light is gone with him. All that is left is Asu and his ragged breath.

We hang together for some time. I can tell he is weak. I do not know how long, but he was unconscious long enough to grow a light stubble. For a few good minutes he just hangs and breathes.

And eventually coughs.

The air has changed. Grown dire, musty. Warm.

I can feel him grow angry in his binding. He fights to remain silent, but deep inside he is growling, furious.

I have no nose, but even I can smell smoke.

Parts of the rope wrapped around him glows, bright patches bursting into low licking flames. They wreathe around his cocoon like a phoenix alight.

Something snaps. The room hanging him has broken, and his wrapped form slumps to the stone.

The fire grows. It consumes and roars with a low growl, smoke billowing up to the fill the room.

Despite the fire I lose sight of him.

The fire begins to dim. The smoke goes with it, but the embers of the rope glow strewn across the floor. They are just bright enough to reveal him.

Asu stands. Wavering, naked, but free.

"Can't... Have to..." He staggers and falls forwards, hands clasping the door to his cell. I watch him several times try to work his Magic, only to cough instead. But finally he collapses the solid stone and falls out from his cell.

I see we are in a long, curved hall. At one end there is a torch, and by its light I can tell there are many more cells like Asu's. He eventually stands and comes to the same conclusion. He rests his hands upon one section of wall, half-bracing himself, half-readying his Magic again.

The wall crumbles and he stumbles inside. A captive, hanging from a rope, blinks awake, muttering invectives with growing awareness. The stream of curses only stops when he realizes Asu's hand, raised up to the rope hanging him bound from the ceiling, has begun to smoke.

"-crumbling pile of grift and... E-eh?" He lurches down suddenly as the rope frays, head dangling close to the floor. "W-whoa, wait-"

The thread snaps. He falls.

The prisoner recovers just as Asu removes the last of his bindings. He struggles to move, but Asu is already gone.

He moves on to repeat his performance, saving one prisoner after another. A dozen or more cells pass behind him as he wanders through the jail. Their groans grow more organized behind him as they rally but his ignores it.

Soon he comes to an empty cell. For a second Asu is baffled, standing idly until he recovers and moves on to another. That cell comes up empty as well, as does the next. On his fourth such attempt he fails to break down the stone cell. I can see his Magic and endurance are spent. So I can not help but admire his determination when he plucks a nearby torch from the wall, peering inside each cell, just in case it is occupied.

He continues down the hall, and soon the sounds of the freed prisoners behind him are gone. He is alone with his flickering torch when he reaches on final door. This one is not sealed, however, and it swings smoothly at his touch.

It opens into a large, dark chamber with a low roof, whose only light comes from a deep basin in its centre, glowing red. Nothing inside moves, but a pervasive scent fills the air, something between charred meat and sulfur. Asu crinkles his nose but moves inside regardless, squinting through a strange haze.

His torch reveals a number of stone tables. They are covered in intricate tools and artifacts, all of stone or wicker. Asu's gaze passes over them, seeking only survivors. So he circles back, towards the room's circular wall, but immediately stops.

On shelves embedded into the walls are the idols carved by the students, by the hundreds if not thousands. They are lined up like little soldiers on display. Most are intact, but a third have been shattered, crumbled apart. Strangely they are hollow. He travels a quarter of the circumference before he gives up and heads inwards towards the glow.

He is soon surrounded by tables.

Lying on one table, just illuminated by his torch, rests a hand, and the young man steps closer. But it is just a hand.

He blinks stupidly for a moment before the horror dawns. When it does he recoils back, startled alert. When he does sidle to the table again it is clear the hand has been severed. And not just a hand. When his torch flinches away he can see more disconnected pieces. Eyes reflect dully back in the darkness.

He can bear to look no more and I am grateful. He staggers, flees from the room, face taught, too dazed to fully understand what he saw. Even I, penning this journal with detached clarity, can only guess at the method behind these horrific experiments. As to their purpose, we discover all too quickly.

The journey back through the hall is silent save for his own unsteady echoing gait. We pass his initial cell, and several more that have been freed. Dozens in total houses prisoners whose footsteps Asu now follows. It does not take long until they are heard in violent combat, illuminated by bright torches in a large chamber. Boulder crush and smash; Asu freezes on the threshold.

Until the earth erupts below them.

Magma streams out in spitting geysers so suddenly no one has time to react. The air is filled with caustic sounds and that same disturbing smell from the prison.

Asu runs.

He is panting, shaking lightly as his torch sputters into nothing. He takes one tunnel after another all spirally slowly upwards, away from the chaos beneath him. He only stops when he hits another room filled with battle.

We emerge from the depths somewhere familiar. It is where the Great Priest gave his speech to the miners before, that same cylindrical room, which I now understand is high above the secret chambers Asu infiltrated in my last dream. Under other circumstances it might look like the figure intended to reprise his performance, for he stands flanked by warriors upon his spire as people looked on from the distant ledge across the one thin bridge to their leader.

But this time they hurl huge stones at him, crashing into those returned by the guards. They exploded loudly over the bridge as others fought there, citizens struggling to reach the Great Priest. He is visible on the raised dais again, flanked by even more guards, with his arms outstretched and wreathed in magical light shining through him from an unknown source. A huge Magic circle is traced in the contours of smoke rising from the magma below.

Two people stand facing him across on the outer ring and across the divide, and it is them at who he shouts.

"You fools! We were so close! You will destroy us all if you do not let me finish!"

Asu's friend is silent, warily watching for guards, but the old man, the leader of the rebels, answers the challenge. "You betrayed our people! The Fire Father and Earth Mother weep, you failure of a priest! Relinquish your life and end this madness to redeem yourself! You-"

"Idiots all! You have not seen what I have!" The vitriol of his words fight through the battle. "Our world was ending no matter what I did! Our volcano, our home is giving birth, exploding into fire! We will be consumed! And even if we flee to the surface, we have discovered enemies, powerful forces who have mastered the seas themselves, strange technologies and impossible Magic! They have killed so many, captured our women; we must harness the earth itself if we wish to survive! My spell is the only answer!

"We will become fire and earth!" The magma below belched flame and smoke, risen ever closer below. The heat grew steadily greater. "I will use the vessels, the sacrifices we have crafted, and seal our spirits into their immortal bodies. Then we can survive, and grow stronger, protecting our home and our Gods! We can survive as a people of magma itself, but if you stop me, all the sacrifices and research will been for nothing! My soul may be damned for my methods but at least others may still find salvation! So let me finish!"

Asu has staggered over to his friend during the exchange. They stand next to the old man, the leader of the rebellion. His face is covered in sweat, like all the others save Asu, but his is even more troubled than the rest. I understand only the vaguest outline of the situation; I can guess the Great Priest learned of the threats but found no other solution. It was a burden he bore, and it transformed him into something terrible.

His face is set with unreadable emotion has his arms strain. "The magma rises higher than ever! Our city will soon flood! Help me transform us all, and we have a chance to continue!"

The battle still rages, but the room is somehow quieter, stilled by the intense heat growing. The fighting itself even slowed as the combatants tire, though neither yet gives ground. But slowly the leader of the rebellion raises his hand, and the attacking stops. And then he lets his shoulder hunch.

"...Very well."

The old man raises his hands. Some magic streams forth, joining the Magic circle above the spire.

"NO!" Asu's friend breaks from his side to run to the old man. "Master, you can't be serious!"

"Kiakona.[3] Assist him. Give him your power."

Asu's friend, Kiakona, is distraught. "According to the teaching we will be monsters! Abhorrent to the Fire Father and Earth Mother!" The young man clasps at his one-time ally's simple rob, shaking. "We were taught to respect our vessels of flesh, God given, not covet more! How can-"

The old man's strike is firm. "We will live and live to praise them! Can you not understand!? It is better than destruction." He turns from the fallen Kiakona back to the central spire, arms still lending strength to the spell. "The Great Priest will pay for his sins but not before we save our people."

The Magic Circle grows brighter. The rest of the fighting has stopped, combatants either fleeing to higher ground or falling senseless under the oppressive heat. Only they four remain standing, protected in varying degrees by some working of the Magic circle or their own inherent ability. Asu pays none of this any mind, so he is the only one to notice when Kiakona's face shifts darkly, hand sliding out of the pouch by his side.

"If that is what you say..."

He steps away from them all, closer to the edge of the pit. The two adults return their focus to the spell when he raises his arms, beginning to channel power.

"...Then I will stop this myself."

A boulder launches from his hands, enlarged from a speck. It is so huge that it throws him off balance and crumbles the ledge beneath him. He tumbles down towards the magma as his attack flies into the Magic circle.

"KIAKONA!"

Sound explodes and wind rushes outwards.

I do not know what exactly has happened, but when the smoke has recovered, outlining again the Magic circle, I can see it has been altered. It is bent, twisted and flickering, like a flame, but it has not shattered.

"Kiakona!" I realize moments later Asu has flung himself towards the ledge, arm dangling over, hand holding that of his friend. "Hold on! I'll pull you up!" But his friend is unconscious, or stunned by the blast, and Asu lacks the strength to follow through on his promise.

Behind him, the old man staggers to his knees, frail arms trembling. "What happened?"

"...N-no..." More connected to the spell than the others, the Great Priest must find it hard to respond. I know enough Magic to know when a spell has been forcibly broken, twisted from ones grasp, and how dangerous that is.

"Great Priest! What does this mean for us?" The old man must know it too. "Answer me!"

"The Fire Father and Earth Mother doom us all." The Great Priest's voice is casual, almost conversationally drained of emotion. "This city, our world will be engulfed by his heat and her presence. If I had completed the ritual it would have taken their power gift and transformed us. Now we'll be nothing more than wild beasts, consumed by rage and pain. Truly monsters."

"S-so stop it! End this! At least let us die humans!"

The Great Priest shrugs. "The spell cannot be stopped now. The magma has risen too far. No one can reach the base of this tower where the Magic's core lies."

"No, we must... I..." But the old man collapses.

The chamber is quiet again. Save for Asu's desperate breathing as he still holds his friend above his rapidly approaching death. But the limp form gradually stirs.

"Kiakona! Wake up, wake up!"

"...Priest." Asu's eyes alight as Kiakona speaks, but his hope is silenced by fear. The young man is looking away from his saviour, to the central spire. "How do we stop it?"

"...Destroy the spire." The voice is weak, but certain. "If you can... The Magic dies."

"Good enough. Asu."

I feel Kiakona's grip tighten on Asu's hands, and his joy surging.

"Up to you. See you."

The grip slackens and slides free.

What comes next is a blur.

I dimly am aware that Asu has thrown himself from the edge, down towards the falling body below. It plunges into fire, and he follows faithfully after.

The last thing I can remember clearly is the feel of rock under my hands.

Then everything is heat and rushing heat and heat forever. I have no idea how long it lasts; I lose all sense but of total consuming heat, distant yet omnipresent.

Eventually I realize the experience has ended. The heat is gone. All that remains now is a coldness.

I keep expecting the dream to end but it stubbornly refuses. I wonder, until one of my senses recovers.

I hear lapping waves. Gently rolling upon a sandy shore.

They crest and splash until I can feel them on Asu's skin. I am puzzled at the patchwork sensation until I discover my vision is returned as well. I am staring up into a glowing red sky. My sight leaves his perspective, and I arise like a ghost to see his form.

He is lying upon the beach as waves crash over him, eyes glazed but half open. His body is mostly caked in black stone, lava cooled inside a salt water bath. He must have been blown clear of the eruption in some incredible stroke of fate, free from a suffocating death. How he survived this long I can not fathom, but still he breathes.

Water knocks away the stone caked on him, revealing huge swatches of burned skin. But it is already healed, scarred, and weathered, looking as familiar on him as his dazed expression. He has grown conscious. He can not sit, can barely move, but still he twists his head around to look upon the land.

If there was a settlement, it is gone. If there were women or livestock or warriors or trees, all are gone. There is no trace of anything save for the black stone of the cooled lava and the red glows that had not faded from the shattered mountaintop. Its crest billows dark smoke that blocks out what remains of the day's light.

The air grows quickly chill as dusk approaches, and Asu's eyes are filled with hollow wonder. There is no fear left in him as he licks his dry lips. But that is all the energy he has; he is totally spent.

I briefly think I can see something out upon the waves, but soon my sight fades.

And as he lay upon the ground, sapped of all his strength, Asu curses weakly the power that did no good to anyone at all.

So Asu Dies.

But he does not end. Not completely.

Sightless, soundless, utterly without heat, we fall into the pit of reality, the grim end of all. All we feel is It's presence. The First.

It offers the deal, the second chance.

I can barely feel that Asu takes it.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

I have found him.

At least, I know where he is. Tonight I will scour the streets and bars of this town, Boston I believe it is called, and make contact. It should not take too long for one of my toys to find him.

I have established a base of operations inside of this huge, unused facility. Even I can tell it is not in a pleasant part of town, but the seclusion suits me and my needs. I will take him here, and impress upon him my willingness to learn. I must convince him, whatever it takes. I have heard from those I asked that he is a good man, or was. I hope [Orsola's note: This section is scratched out.]

But my pursuers close in on me. Some of those I asked before, in the cafes, have disappeared. I think they know I am looking for him now, and may be after him as well. The Amazing Amazing could not know he is targeted, he will not be ready. So I must get to him first. Perhaps I can even use this opportunity to get all my pursuers together in place, to defeat them and throw them off my trail for good. Ingratiate myself to him, if I can engineer his salvation. But he is supposedly an accomplished Magician, so I doubt it will be so simple. Still, it is a plan.

It is as good a plan as any.

I do not want to focus on this dream. This is a night for hope. I will consider this one another time. Perhaps tomorrow.

[Orsola's note: the same division of addendum follows as before.]

 **It is terrible and dread.**

 **Awoke from death, yet not dead.**

 **It calls in silence, and It brings a deal.**

 **It knows few and many things.**

 **It is nothing, yet still clings.**

 **It calls in silence; It offers a deal.**

 **It sees mistakes that have been made.**

On the Seventh Day of Christmas: The Land a'burning.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **The Eighth Summon:**

 **Subject:** Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin (Russian: Григорий Ефимович Распутин).

 **Temporality:** January 21st, 1869 – December 30, 1916

 **Capabilities:** Gemstone/Magician Hybrid.

 **Gemstone Ability:** If the accounts taken from the dream journal are to be taken as fact, it appears that Rasputin possesses a extensive form of regenerative healing, which enables his self-destructive Magic's: see below for more detail. Consider cross-referencing with Double Agent **[REDACTED]** for potential correlation. His mastery is much greater, purportedly even over the bodily healing of others. However, anecdotal evidence from the recovered journal indicates other uses. Ranked Level 3 lacking further data, but potential is higher.

 **Magical Skills:** The Anglican Church maintains details records of its Magical conflicts with Rasputin since his founding of the Kazan Occult Society, now known as Annihilatus and controlled by the Russian Orthodox Church. The Anglican Church contested his public promotion of Magic within Russia and after numerous conflicts managed to finally orchestrate his demise. While he was a capable illusionist and summoner, manipulating Russian high-society from within, he was most dangerous for his survivability. His Magic was self-flagellating in nature, but he only succumbed to his wounds after prolonged combat and the sacrifice of over a dozen operatives. Knowing now that his regeneration likely stemmed from a Gemstone ability does not minimize the danger he poses.

 **Conclusion:** Rasputin is known to be a foundational figure in the Russian Magical Orthodoxy, seeing as he promoted Magic's power and reputation within the Russian state. He was considered nigh unkillable, so containment is much more likely than destruction, saving the deployment of Saint-class counter measures. However, we have a new ally in the Russian Orthodox Church, which in reaction to his legacy has since reformed their Magical branch into Annihilatus, a spirit hunting organization. We have already sent a request to their liaisons for additional information they might possess on his capability and potential counter measures they might be willing to provide.

 **NOTE:** A contemporary and enemy of **[REDACTED].** Capture and probing for information **Ultra-High Priority.**

 **Entry 22:**

Date: July 4th

 _On the day he discovered his powers, he knew he had a mission._

The dream begins in a smokey tavern.

I can tell it is so from the sheer volume of alcohol being bandied about in dirty mugs, but even that discovery came second to the sheer volume of noise the drinkers were producing. I have seen a similar sight in some bars since I have come to Boston, but not very often, and never to this extreme.

Somewhere a glass shatters but no one seemed to mind. In fact, laughter erupts from a group of youngish looking men at a corner table. The establishment is crowded, dirty, its floor strewn with straw and wasted liquor and muck, but this table bears a particular air of iniquity. It may have been from the array of poorly sheathed knives openly on display, brazenly adorning the waists of most of the group, or the general spite their mirth conveyed. But most telling was the man lying upon the ground before them, in a puddle of thin beer spilled from his shattered mug.

A light trickle of blood ran down from his face where the glass had most certainly smashed into him, and a bruise was already forming on his brow. But the group just laughed and laughed, slapping the back of the one who was likely the culprit.

He was a big man even though he was stooped, hunched over with indifference. He smiled behind a thick but scraggly beard, but otherwise did not move, not even when a man in a heavy apron stomped over to stand before him. Though the bar did not quieten, the tenor of the noise changed as other listened in, perhaps expecting further drama.

The bartender, or at least a server, paused dramatically before the table of still snickering men. "What happened here." It was less a question than a statement of despondent indifference, but he dutifully bent over to check the body for life.

"Relax. I held back. No need to kill over a misunderstanding. Gamblers hate to lose, you know how it-"

"Shut it." The bartender ignored the harsh intakes of breath from the others as he straightened, taking with him the handle of the shattered glass. "I care not for your crimes, vagabond. Nor do I care for your recent loss. But you smash another mug," He indicated the offending piece, "and I will care."

The table of hooligans grew quiet but the culprit merely smiled. "Peace, friend, peace. We all enjoy your tavern. I have no intention of causing problems. Other bars are for fighting, right? Here we drink and enjoy the best company in Pokrovskoe!" A mild cheer erupted from his cohort and the nearby tables, but the bartender seemed less amused.

"Pay for the glass or pay your tab. Your choice, Grigori."

Behind the culprit there was a subtle rustle of movement, and I saw a flash of something steel, but the man himself raised a hand. Staggering up to his feet, I realized how inebriated he must be, but it hardly showed in his firm smile.

"Peace, barkeep, peace. I'll pay both, just..." As he spoke he knelt over, grasping his victim, or perhaps his failed assailant, under each shoulder. "Let me help him up first." He hoisted and the man rose easily, propped between his arms as he was guided towards a nearby bench. "No man leaves another in such a state." Only I could see his hand snake into the man's pocket, and slip back out again. As he lay the man down the culprit turned, dropping a fat wallet into the hands over the bar keep. "Here's enough and plenty extra. A round on me."

I thought the tavern was noisy before. When I can think again, the barkeep's surprised expression has turned to distrust. But he checks the tendered money, spreading the bills and sorting the coins, and grudgingly serves his patrons. The atmosphere resumes, save for the weakly snoring man upon the bench.

The culprit acknowledges the thanks of those around him, sitting stooped again upon his table. But eventually he stands, and steps outside the tavern.

The night is cold and the streets are poorly lit by what must be gaslights. Winter must be just beginning or ending, as a thin dusty blanket of snow lies scattered upon the cooling mud of the dirty road. A rickety carriage with a restless horse stands upon the far side of the street but otherwise the man is alone to take in the air, leaning against the wall.

"A pretty little con that was, my child."

I am far more surprised than the culprit by the interruption, but he slowly turns towards the bar's entrance.

There stands a small man, brightly smiling despite a little bit of sadness in his eyes. His hair is a distinguished grey, through and through, and his round face is tinged red with the cold. A simple chain hangs round his neck, disappearing into an odd black overcoat. Hanging on his side is an old, tattered scroll, leashed to his pocked by a thread of twine. The look is ceremonial and officious, so out of place from the tavern from that I find it a marvel he did not stick out more. He cuts a mysterious figure, one whom I cannot not quite place.

"Eh?" The culprit sums up my thoughts. "Who're you? Some kind Father?"

The small man nods with his whole upper body. "Yes, my child. An impressive observation, considering the staggering amounts of alcohol I just watched you consume."

"I'm not drunk."

"Never said you were. It would have been hard to set up that little trick I saw in there if you were that inebriated."

The culprit's head raises again, features alighting with interest. He angles his chin, beckoning the Father to continue.

The man obliges. "You said, or rather implied, that the man now sleeping off a minor concussion was upset at having lost at gambling. But he seemed rather calm when he entered, looking around, speaking to a few patrons at the bar, and finding you. I noticed an expectant smile upon his lips."

The culprit seems truly impressed now. "You were watching? You really a Father?" Surprising me he does not seem agitated or angry. Rather, merely impressed.

"Of the cloth, straight and true. Relax, my child. Consider this a confessional. I know a little of who you are, that's all. You're fairly prominent in this small town." The small man chuckles, ticking off points on his fingers. "You have a penchant for small crime, for getting into vicious brawl, for taking wounds that would floor a lesser man, and for somehow managing it all without any sort of punishment or recourse. Some say you are blessed."

The culprit has become silent.

"Come now, I am only stating what I have heard. I am a little more worldly than I might appear: I wasn't so different at your age. Tell me, what really happened in there?" The Father flicks his head into the bar. "Did you even gamble with that man?"

"We did." After waiting for a moment, the culprit shrugs. "...He won. I let him." Now a grin creeps across his lips, creasing his beard. "Told him no hard feelings, to come back here, for a drink on me. So I gave him a glass."

"Ah. Applied directly to the forehead, I noticed. And stole back your losses in the confusion."

The two stood for a few moments, framed in a silence tinged with the tavern's merriment. Eventually the culprit snorted with restrained amusement. "...Seem awfully accepting of battery and theft for a priest."

"You seem awfully clever for a petty criminal." He shrugged, fingering idly the scroll at his belt. "There is always a bigger picture."

"Hah."

Another span of silence. I get the impression the culprit imagines the conversation over. But as I suspect he is soon proven wrong.

"You are smart, my child. Smarter than this petty crime. You ought to do more with your life."

"More? What more is there?" The culprit's expression is blank despite his smile. "I've got my fun, my woman and children, and my town. I can do what I like here. I practically rule the place, have the magistrate under my thumb. Why risk more on getting more? That's how smart men lose."

"Ruling over nothing is less than serving a true power." The Father's voice became sharp. "God could use the intelligence and sagacity you display."

For a moment the culprit frowns, but he soon shakes his head. "Bah. Take your piety and scratch yourself with it."

"You will find Him in your time, my child. But if you need me instead, I'll be staying for a few nights."

The Father gets no response as the culprit pushes his way back into the tavern.

Time passes. As if to make up for his delay the culprit parties all the harder, drinking and joking with his associates. Though he still remains hunched over, now his face is blank.

Abruptly he takes to his feet. An incredibly skinny fellow, spinning a pocket knife idly, jabs it in the air at the culprit. "Ah? Where'ya going? Out again so soon?"

"Home. My mood to drink is ruined."

"You're no fun now, what happened? Ah? Run into your wife outside?" The table cavorts in their amusement, but the culprit just shrugs.

"No, yours." The laughter triples as he pushes away, stomping past the bar and into the late night.

It is just as dark and even colder. The Father is gone, as is the carriage. All that remains is the cold, the snow, and the dirt.

The culprit's boots sink surprisingly deep into the frozen mud, evidently not quite frozen, but he takes it quite literally in stride. He lifts one out after another, squelching as he departs the city centre.

He walks for a long while before I see him arrive at a nondescript home with a rough rounded roof, just outside of town. The last of the gaslights sputter behind him as he kicks the dirt from boots on the simple doorstep. Fumbling for an iron key he pushes inside.

The room is large, but it is clearly one of just a few. There is a women sitting on a chair set at a rectangular table in the room's centre. With one outstretched arm she tends to a fire with a blackened poker, over which a cooking pot hangs. A ladle sits untouched, but some gently steams from within.

The woman looks up, at first mildly surprised. But her face quickly descends into blandness. "Grigori. You are early."

The culprit nods, sliding the cloak from his shoulders as his boots crunch on the wooden floor. "Why does that bother you? Have plans without me, wife?"

She sighs deeply, turning back to the fire. "That is not what I meant. Be quieter. Usually you return later, that is all."

"Why be quiet? No baby to wake up." He falls heavily into the chair, and it grinds across the floor. "Not any more."

"Have you no heart?" Her face is pained and I watch her eyes flicker towards a set of closed door upon the far wall. There are three, and I do not quite understand.

He does not follow her gaze, but grows mellow. He sighs, leaning back weakly against the chair. "...Fine, yes, silence now. I am tired."

She stares at him.

He avoids her eyes.

They eat a dinner. It is some sort of thick, heavy stew, all dumplings and warmth. It reminds me of home.

Once they have finished, the woman, who I assume is his wife, laughs. "Something really has mellowed you. Get into a bad fight?"

"No."

"Do you need to?"

"Can a man not come home for an evening!?" He explodes to his feet, chair rattling across the muddy floor. His face is full of wrath, but it quickly mellows in passive stoniness. The room grows silent. "...I will be back." He stands up and strides to the door, swinging his cloak back upon his shoulders. Yet pauses before opening it, looking back. "Don't you want to know when?"

"When have I ever asked?"

I can tell it is a struggle for the culprit, Grigori I suppose, to not slam the door behind him.

The night is even colder: the mud has frozen so solid his boot no longer sink.

Grigori walks silently back into town, past crowded storefronts and dark narrow alleys. I can only imagine he is brooding.

I am as surprised as he is when the club swings down.

It slams into his head with a hollow thump, and my dream loses focus. I do not feel the pain for once, but everything is blurry, pulsing, with incoherence. But I realize he is truly strong for he only stumbles, roaring and swinging his fist in a hammer blow. It connects, knocking the assailant aside, but there is another, then a third. They push him back, and after a brief surge Grigori is pinned against a storefront.

One punch after another slams into his gut and eventually he slumps against the wall, and the scene fades before my eyes. When it recovers I see his attackers, three men who step back to watch as Grigori stumbles to the ground. But even then he growls menace like a wounded beast.

"Just take out the gun and shoot him, Friedrich!" One whispers harshly to another, who fumbles at his coat.

Grigori leaps, and the gun glints against the gaslights.

Light flashes, but there is no bang.

All four men are transfixed, but for Grigori it is with shock.

For the three assailants have been enveloped in a pillar of clearest ice. Their eyes flicker about in horror but their limbs are frozen in place.

"Goodness, my son. I thought you had your affairs in better order than this, Grigori." The twisted image of the Father is visible through the crystalline prison, but he soon has walked around to peer at the three trapped within.

Grigori swallows tensely, but slowly allows himself to rise and eye the priest warily. "...What did you do to them?"

"Sorry, a moment." The Father taps the ice, and the top half shatters. This exposes the attacker's heads and they breathe raggedly, gasping for air through their shivering chill. The Father pays this no mind, dusting a thin layer of snow from his shoulder. "That's better. Now then. Would you gentlemen explain why you accosting my associate here? Petty grudge? Gambling debts, hmm?"

For a few moments the men are two shocked to respond, but one quickly breaks. "W-w-we were hired! Tall thin man, golden hair, wanted him taken out! W-we're from here, know him, no one would really miss him, it was just a job! He's just a thug like us, that's all!"

The Father nods, but seems perplexed. "Is that so? Then perhaps I was... Wait, golden-"

There is another explosion, of golden light.

The ice prison explodes. The men within are consumed, vanished. The ice not taken with them explodes out in a hail of fragments, peppering the Father. They pierce straight through him and dig into the wood of the store behind him, destroying windows and merchandise.

My vision has shifted more times than I can count, but I finally settle back into my host's perspective. Glass trickles down around us into the snow, indistinguishable from the icy shards that shattered it. A light cloud of snow fills the street as the priest staggers back to his feet, some distance to the right and ahead of us; he has avoided the worst of the explosion, but still a few red lines slice into his cheek.

He raises his hands protectively, and I watch as cold air swirls between his fingers. But he waits until the snow-screen clears and a thin looking man is revealed behind the ruin of the three would-be assailants. He is shrouded in a gold-hemmed robe, and stands before a carriage with similar trim. The newcomer smiles placidly, and moving his arms I watch long thin fingers unfurl like snakes. I am shocked to see his right hand a mangled mess of burnt sinew and blackened skin, but his left is normal, aside from the strange golden light that plays on its finger tips.

He steps closer, breathing out into the cold night, but does nothing more before he speaks in a nasally voice. "And I thought the Orthodoxy was supposed to be humble. Wasting such Magic on the weaklings will be your undoing."

The Father does not move. "...Golden Dawn. I wondered if that was your carriage I saw outside the bar. But I did not think you would be so bold. And so eager to ruin yourself with your apostate Magic."

His taunt earns only a snicker. "You thought wrong, and paid the price. You mission ends in failure."

From my perspective I see the priest twitch. He spares a glance back, toward us and the blasted shop-front. His face falls as he understands something, but turns back before he speaks again. "This is just a set-back. You will win no victory today; not if I kill you."

The newcomer in gold amusement grows into full blown laughter. "You are not skilled enough to wield that Magic more than once so soon. Whereas I," he shouts, as the veins in his good hand suddenly pulse with yellow light. "have strength for more!"

"You will see what I can still do, cabalist."

They begin to circle, like duellists on a stage. Or rather, actors before an audience, for I realize we, or rather Grigori, has not moved. And that something sticks out from our chest.

I cannot force my eyes down, but slowly I recognize a huge shard of ice, thicker than my arm, is buried within me. It is rough and flat and cracked like a shattered pane of glass and drenched in slowly freezing blood.

I must be dead; done.

But the dream is not.

And I feel that peculiar, familiar, sensation. A Gift.

The combatants circle in the deserted street. I am bewildered how now one has come to investigate, or even flee: yet the buildings are silents, their lights extinguished. All that is visible comes from a glow of a few gas lamps, and the hooded man's hands.

Each man makes a feint; the other reacts, hesitates, and they shuffle further.

Something changes.

The newcomer, the cabalist, takes a step but stumbles. He fights it but his feet are stuck, transfixed by ice suddenly creeping up his legs. He glances down, distracted just long enough for the priest to shout something arcane. As he does an ice-cycle leaps into, then out of, his hands, towards the trapped cabalist.

But light erupts from his feet, and my vision fades as ice once again explodes. Freed, the man from Golden Dawn ducks, rolls under the dagger of ice and lands awkwardly on his knees. Gasping in surprise, he points his fingers, all five, like a claw.

They explode, blood boiling into golden heavenly light, and the air around the priest is engulfed in chaos.

The cabalist lies upon the frozen ground, his boots gone, feet and hands charred and blackened. He waits as the dust clears, breathing heavily, face contorted. But eventually a smile breaks through the pain as he spies the fallen form of his foe.

"N-not so Holy now, Orthodox pig... My brothers and sisters will come for me, but will your God sav-"

He is silenced by the revelation his target is merely snow, roughly formed into a man. His head whips to the side, but wounded as he is he cannot move before then priest makes his counter.

But it is a strange one; he merely reaches to his hip, and unfurls a scroll. It faces outwards, away from my point of view, and towards the cabalist.

Who freezes, eyes paling, transfixed by the image and then he is gone, nothing remaining save for a faint outline emblazoned onto the air itself as if burnt to the barest cinder.

The cabalist is defeated. The priest straightens and furls up his scroll, binding again to his waist. He surveys the street.

"Damnable Golden Dawn... If only the Orthodoxy had any will, they would follow the Anglican lead and take Magic into their old hands. Instead they force an old man to work behind in the shadows..." [4]

His eyes eventually fall on us, or rather upon Grigori.

"A pity. You were an unintended casualty, despite your dubious background. I truly wanted to see what manner of man you would be in the Church, and with the proper educ-"

A hand lashes out. It chokes out the words, and the priest struggles in sudden alarm. But he is pulled down, closer and closer, until his red face fills my, our, vision.

"...How did you know my name?"

Somehow Grigori is alive.

I finally place that peculiar, familiar, sensation. It is stronger now, the feeling of a Power manifested. His Gift must be his impossible survival.

"What did you intend to do to? Teach me? Collar me? _Convert me?_ How do you know WHO I AM!?"

The priest makes a pitiful noise and his hand flails for his side, for the scroll he had unfurled moments ago.

But Grigori is quicker, and pulls the priest into an iron embrace.

The shard of ice claims another victim.

After what seems like an eternity of violence, the street is truly quiet. Not the enforced quiet of some Magic or trick, but like the grave.

"Play close to your chest."

Grigori slides the nearly lifeless form from atop him. It falls into the snow, in a puddle of mixing blood. The priest can form no words, but he looks up at his murderer with faltering sight.

"Let your enemies play out their hands."

He snaps the ice off within him, drawing it out with a sickly plop. It is tossed aside before his gaze shifts to his victim.

The culprit's bloody hand wraps around the scroll.

"And now I take the pot."

His prize is claimed. His enemies are dead. I do not know what can come next.

Neither does Grigori it seems, for his calm facade grows agitated as his lips snarl, examining the victims of this massacre.

"But what madness is this? Magic? What infests the land? In God's name... I am not a pious man, but this is pure devilry! What..."

In his body, riding with the dream, I feel the scroll in his hand. It grows heavy. Very, very heavy. It begs to be unfurled. I can barely see from the corner of my eye the priest's dying breath, but this is so much more important.

Slowly, Grigori peals it open.

I feel the First. All the presence that comes with him.

The world returns.

It takes several seconds, feels like hours. But eventually the world makes sense again. The bodies return, the street and snow and cold returns. And so do does the culprit.

My gaze now is outside him. I see his grizzled face, but gone is the pain and cynicism. Something vibrant and shocking has replaced it.

"...Fear not, my Lord. I have seen thee. And thy will."

The streets finally begin to stir as dawn breaks.

"I have much work to do."

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

The Amazing Amazo is not what I expected.

At first I was overjoyed he agreed, blinded by relief. I didn't even care that we watched me like I was some kind of alien or wild animal or infant, always watching over me. I am used to that. I simply acted the part of the model student, always positive, always attentive.

Yet he has been hesitant to teach me. Instead he spends every day sitting in a pile of rubbish in my warehouse, thinking. At least he says he is thinking. I suspect he does not trust me. But I must earn that trust if I am to use him.

We are still staying in this warehouse. Apparently he is poor as well: I had no idea poverty was so common. Perhaps I am just unlucky.

Regardless, today something has changed. It was after I brought him a meal from a cafe I frequent, as a good student should. He asked me how I procured it. When I told him how he demanded me to stop. He seemed horrified. I may have made a poor impression.

But he then asked me to show him my power. I danced my toys for him, and he was intensely interested. I realized after a moment that he was studying it, attempting to see through my methods, just like the others in the cabal. But unlike them, he did not discard me and my trick. He just shrugged and gave up. "We'll figure something out," is what he said. "We can make it work."

He has since decreed we will find work and make legitimate money to purchase our food. I don't know what this work would entail, but of course I agreed instantly.

So now I must wait. Wait, write this dream journal, and do nothing.

It is infuriating, I thought by now I would have made some progress, but perhaps that was foolish. After all I have not even told him yet why I am here. I suppose that is because I do not trust him either. He hardly seems to be a Magician.

Yet he seems to have some knowledge. The other day I watched him throwing debris at some bird that had flown into our warehouse. His aim was terrible, but suddenly to my shock he grew three times in height and clapped the poor think in his mighty grasp, trapping it to shoe it outside. When he saw me watching he let it go in his surprise and it flew free to make even more of a mess, but now I see his power. Such casual use of Magic must indicate some greater understanding. He must be able to help me.

I will wait. I have been patient before. I can be so again.

Oh, I have forgotten the dream again.

Memo: Dream analysis, tomorrow: investigate scroll

[Orsola's note: attached to this page is a post-it note, with the following written upon it]

Scroll is true Lady of Kazan [5]; artifact said to banish the unholy or simply the careless to a different realm. Whereabouts unknown, Rasputin's hands? If so, lost.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 23:**

Date: July 16th 

The dream begins in a shroud of white.

Only eventually am I able to discern the snowflakes that fall against a backdrop of tall thin trees, hardy conifers densely packed. The wind barely blows but I can still feel the cold's bite as a tall man trudges through snow along the side of a road. He is loosely bundled in a heavy cloak, worn leather covered in patches and seams. A heavy hat and thick beard hides his face, and I merely watch as he travels in the depth of winter.

I soon realize he is heading towards a town, but I do not notice until it is almost upon us, buildings plastered white with driving snowfall. A few workers labour outside a tall barn shifting supplies from a sledge, and they give the man I am drawn invisibly behind with a long look. He passes them wordlessly and they allow him to continue.

Deeper into the small community the man trudges, finally finding cleared pathways through the snow. His ultimate destination soon becomes clear: a long, thin train station lays straight across the centre of town, cutting it like a scar. It straddles two lines of tracks, one of which is occupied. A horn blares and steam bursts through the slats of a cheaply made roof. A train has pulled into refuel, or may be preparing to soon leave: I cannot tell which.

The man I follow peers at the structure for moment before striding purposely towards the main stairs. He ascends and enters.

The facility is fairly quiet and several kiosk desks are open, cheap red paint mostly flaked away. A thin youth in a heavy coat mans the position, his breath frosty as he looks down at dozens of papers scattered across his work area.

But he hears the man I follow well enough to do his job. "Destination," he intones, with hardly any inflection. When he hears no response, he looks up, irritated. But before he can ask again in more pointed tone he has to continue looking up.

I realize for the first time by this comparison how tall the man I have been following is. And for the first time my sights shifts into line with his own, and I see his soulful gaze. It is all I see, just his eyes; everything higher is beneath a heavy hood, below a massive beard.

"...St. Petersburg."

The clerk pauses, staring, but finally breaks the connection, stamping several documents in quick succession. "...Y-yes, sir, of course. Your fare." The two exchange a handful of coins. "Safe travels."

"Safe travels." The man repeats the token expression and brushes past the checkpoint. My sight is swept along but I can nearly hear the clerk exhale.

The train without commotion, the one that had blared earlier. It is not long before it pulls away, and the little community is left behind. For his part, the man leans against the carriage wall, leg propped up on a rickety bench in a otherwise empty car.

The landscape soon changes. The trees rapidly drop away, and more and more buildings spring up in there place. The snow remains the same, but it is no longer white and pristine. I can see it turn visibly grey, blackened by soot and smog hanging in the air. Factories and factories upon factories line the tracks before the train finally grinds to a slow halt.

This station is much busier, a crowded concourse of men and women and children and animals and equipment all rushed and rushing and losing themselves. It is chaos, but the man I follow stands heads and shoulders above most. His leisurely gait is an island of calm.

The city streets are not much better, and the man is forced to push through throngs of travellers and workers. Yet there is little difficulty. Whenever someone looks at him, ready to start a fight or complain, the brawl is abruptly diverted as the offended party corrects themselves. There is something in his eyes.

The great city of St. Petersburg is vast, and lined with buildings. I can even see a huge harbour but it is empty, iced over completely, and only the shipyards seem busy. But as far as the dream feels the man soon reaches his destination.

It must be a simply huge cathedral. I do not recognize the design, but it is steepled like I have heard others described, with full Gothic towers and imposing facades. In the grim greyness of the city it stands inviolate like a giant guardian. The man I follow knocks heavily upon a side door, having marched steadily under its the shadow past the huge front double doors. Finally his knocking rouses a response, and a slot in the door snaps open.

Reddened eyes peer through the gap. "There is no service for hours, friend. Come back through the front." The slat snaps shut.

But the man I follow continues to knock until the door lurches open a few inches, pushing against piled snow. A thick chain bolts it from opening fully, but there is still enough room to see within.

"What is it? What is it?" A thin little head peers out as far as it is able, belonging to an evidently irritated gatekeeper. "Who is it? What do you want?"

"Sorry to disturb you, friend. But I am expected."

I did not notice at the train station how deep and rich a baritone his voice was possessed of. Warm and measured, yet stern and steely. I can hardly wonder how the man at the door did not spring to the service of its owner, so authoritative it seemed. But instead the reddened eyes snapped open, all signs of sleep forgotten. They looked up with new clarity at the visitor.

"...Ah. Yes, the Archimandrite [6] was expecting you. Please, step in from the cold, but wait here. I will get directions." During this admission the door was opened and the man admitted inside. Before the door was closed behind them I feel the warmth of the cathedral air, surprised at how cold I had become even in dream. The man I follow shows no sign of comfort, and begins to wait as meekly as a giant might.

For he truly was huge, I now see, having to duck through a good sized door. Even in the entrance way his head is nearer the ceiling than I would expect, but his eyes betray nothing but calm expectation. Though I half-suspected it all this time, I am only now able to see the face of the man named Grigori, whose dream I dreamt before. But it is almost transformed from the roughened provincial I saw then.

Soon the gatekeeper has returned. He beckons, and Grigori follows him deeper into the cathedral, across a hall into a large, dusty office. At a desk sits a aged man, his plain black robe contrasting with his ornate white head piece, flat on top with cowls that drape across his shoulders. He gestures minutely and the gatekeeper departs. The two men stare at each other for second, before the host, who must be the Archimandrite, smiles.

"Hail _strannik_. [7] Holy wanderer." He puts special emphasis on the word, but I cannot quite tell why.

"Please, please..." Grigori shuffles in his coat, dislodging snow from his shoulder. "My very reverend Archimandrite, you know I am just a humble traveller. Call me Rasputin." He looks so very innocent, but his eyes remain piercing.

"Very well, Rasputin, as you wish. What brings you here, today? You've been very popular in the city these last few years..."

"I have come to secure funding for a church."

"I see." The Archimandrite is unable to hide his surprise, but it is mild. "So minor a task?"

"Yes. I represent a pious community that lacks support for a place of worship. Surely there are resources ready to serve the worship of the lord?"

"I imagine we can find something. But or now, I must disappoint you..." The Archimandrite looks to a tall clock, nearly ready to strike noon. "I have just received word of a very important meeting, the Tsar himself wishes my counsel again. I am sorely saddened we must delay, but we can reconvene at one." He stands, groaning stiffly and leaning on the desk as he starts to make his way. "As confessor to the Tsar and his family... It would not do for me to-"

"Perhaps, my friend..."

Rasputin's grip is solid ice, frozen round the man's forearm.

"...You might take me with you?"

There is something in the air. I am certain it is his Power again, but I do not know how. Nor do I know what it does. At first, the Archimandrite seems shocked, but gradually the tautness in his expression slackens. "You wish to meet..."

He smiles.

"...Yes, perhaps the Tsar would enjoy making your acquaintance. Come, let us go."

They depart.

But do not go far. Leaving the office they stride down the cathedral's central aisle, past rows of pews to its great, sealed double doors. But they are rapidly being unbound, its cross-bar raised by the gatekeeper scrambling to open the way. The two have to only wait a moment for him to succeed.

A swift gust of air blows in, forcing the doors further inward. The glare of the dirty snow soon eases to reveal several carriages. Most are simple and solid, staffed with numerous soldiers in full regalia, rifles shoulders. But the lead is stark white and trimmed with gold, bearing a bold man stepping forth from a door on its side. He is dressed in a rich, heavy cloak of fur, his suit underneath matching his transportation in gaudy colours. He pulls on his neatly shaped beard as he gestures broadly to the two men still inside, beckoning them out into the sun.

"Confessor, there you are! I require your counsel on your congregation, I've been hearing stirrings of dissent again. And then, of course, to confession..." He slows as he realizes Grigori is present. "Feofan? Who is this man?"

"Your imperial majesty, this is Grigori Rasputin." The Archimandrite recovers from his elaborate bow a full second before Grigori has, but now he stands tall, actively looking down upon the lord of his land.

"Is he now?" The Tsar, or emperor of Russia as I have identified him, gives Grigori a long look. "Well? Speak, man. What is your business?"

"My business if faith, your imperial majesty." With an charming grin, Grigori answers him literally. "My father was a yamshchik. [8] I lived in Pokrovskoe, wasting the gift of the Lord, but I saw the Light, and now I wander. Do not believe the rumours, good sir. I am just a humble traveller, seeking God. Please, call me Rasputin."

This satisfies the lord. "I see. You're the one Feofan spoke of. Well, I'll return him to you soon enough. Just a small discussion is what I need today, confessor."

"Of course, your imperial majesty." Smiling pleasantly, the Archimandrite leans to peer behind the Tsar.

"Yes, Feofan, you old rogue, I am here as well."

It is a woman's voice. She does not step out, I can see she is dressed finely as well, so I can only imagine she is the Tsar's wife. I do not know what that makes her, and I forgot to research that after my initial observations. More importantly, beside her there is a very young boy, perhaps a toddler, perhaps younger. He is quite small, and bundled in thick wools, his cheeks a bright and rosy red.

"Wonderful to see you again, your imperial majesty. I will have the gatekeeper prepare a mug of cocoa for you. Oh!" The young child catches the Archimandrite's eye. "And how is the imperial highness today?"

"Ah, Alexei is well!" The Tsar steps towards his confessor, drawing him away with an arm around his shoulder. "We just left his cloak back home, so shall avoid the cold air. Coach driver!" He shouts back over his shoulder, leading his confessor away. "Take the carriage around to the stables."

The driver nods, cracks his whip. The woman reaches out to close the door. But a broad hand falls upon her wrist.

"Your son is ill."

Many things happen at once.

I feel his Gift again, from the First, but again I do not see what it does.

The woman gasps, stiffens, but falls silent. Her questioning eyes meet Grigori's.

The soldiers shout, clothing rustling as weapons are hastily levelled.

The Archimandrite spins, stumbling away, nearly falling to the snow.

The Tsar spins the Archimandrite aside in his haste to return. He grasps Grigori, and though the man is several inches taller grasps at his collar.

"What!? How!? Who-" He pauses, checks himself suddenly. Eyes bear down on all sides, and he quietens to a whisper. "Who told you? Names and silence can make you a rich man."

But Grigori shakes his head. "No one. I can see through the makeup you have painted his face with. He is ill. I can heal him."

"You? What are..." The Tsar is dumbfounded, but his grip slackens. He begins to pull away.

"Nicholas. I believe him." He looks to the woman, his wife. Her eyes are bright and round, but they possess a certain clarity, certainty. "He is a man of God. You know we need whatever help we can get. Let him try. There is no harm."

The Tsar waits; eyes his soldiers again, still tense. But he slowly raises his hand, and they withdraw.

"I can improve his condition right now. If I may...?"

The woman nods, and though the Tsar is anxious, he slowly gives his assent as well.

Without hesitation, Grigori places his hand upon the babe's brows.

Again, his Gift. I do not fully understand. I have already seen his impossible stamina, but this is also his Gift. Soon he removes his hand, but as he does he sweeps it across the child's cheeks. The rogue on them wipes clean, and I can see a sickly pallor. But it already improves, and the babe begins to stir.

"My God..." The Tsar's voice is shaky as he steps forward, pushing the pliant Grigorio aside to see his child with hope written large across his face. "You've... All the western doctors have said... This is incredible! Is he healed?" He turns back to the large man.

Grigori stands in the snow. His eyes are closed, and he rubs he hand across his lips. There is something red, redder than the rogue he has wiped free. But his eyes suddenly snap open.

"No. Not yet" The Tsar's expression dies. "...But I can keep him well, and may some day cure him entirely. You must take him off his medication and let me see to him. I will dedicate my life to preserving his, and serving your family. It is no sacrifice, for the future of Russia."

There is no discussion among the small family. The Tsar looks to his wife, but her eyes do not leave the saviour of her son. She smiles, and nods.

"Then it is done. Board! Let us go, to the palace!" Grigori willingly steps aboard as the Tsar sprints across the snow, dragging the finally recovered confessor nearly from his feet. "Feofan! Ride with us! We have much to discuss. With you," He pauses, looking up as the carriage door closes and their journey begins, "And with our new royal advisor."

The culprit smiles, as the carriage rocks.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

I am surviving. That is the most I can say.

I almost wish to return to thieving. I hated it, but working is dreadful. I thought it was bad enough going from business to business, applying and being denied. We lacked this skill or that skill, lacked this trait or had that trait. It was humiliation, but humiliation I am well used to.

Or so I thought until we were actually hired.

I did not expect it would be worse to actually have work, to take orders from strange, angry people, standing in front of a strange, angry machine, attempting to give them what they want and understand what they mean when the ask for certain things and avoid others. I am learning at least the names of this place's food quickly, but I still don't understand the casual pettiness of those I am supposed to be serving. Even at their most crude, those in my cabal had more decorum than some of these "guests".

I marvel at my teacher. He somehow seems to be having fun, cleaning floors and taking abuse for the faults of others, smiling despite it. It must be an act; he seems very good at that. I will take notes. It must be how one survives this working life.

So I WILL persevere. After all, this is apparently my life as well now.

Serving "Whoppers".

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 24: Gulag**

Date: July 28th

!~~~~~~~~!

The dream begins in a rocking carriage. It is almost unreal, for this is how the last dream ended, but much is different.

It is night, to begin, not noon: I can only tell from the fact my gaze is currently looking down at a broad, rough hand bearing an open pocket watch. It read almost nine before it clicks shut. The hand slides into the folds of a heavy, simply coat, leaving behind the watch but returning with a small mirror.

Grigori seems much older now, his long beard and thick hair striking, but no longer like that of a wild man, but instead healthy and combed, He is also much bolder, as his questing eyes rove across his own features. He preens for a moment, then laughs curtly.

"Driver!" His voice is harsh as he shouts. "How far to the Yusopov's palace, now!?"

"Just another minute, sir."

"Good." He settles back into his seat, murmuring. "I am looking forward to a night of festivities. Leading a nation down the right path is such a trying matter." He sighs somewhat dramatically, a strange sound coming from his normally composed baritone. But he is grinning all the while. "Don't you think so?"

He is staring straight ahead. I begin to suspect it is at me. Until I hear another.

"A world is much more difficult. But even that is not a problem with the right philosophy."

My gaze is locked forward, but now I see something a peculiar blueish light is playing across Grigori's face. He seems to be staring through me, to something just behind me. "Now now, don't be like that, you dreary Englishman. You know we speak of the same thing."

"Perhaps."

Grigori is nonplussed. "Yes, we do. A new world of Magic..." He plays with his hands, and I see something new. Lights and runes dance, twisting and turning and folding in on themselves in strange ways. I realize that the man has changed even more than I could at first discern. "A new layer of mastery to combat this upstart science and industry. I wonder which of us shall succeed first, hmmm? In harnessing reality..."

"I have little doubt." The voice behind me is peculiar. I hardly am able to remember it; even now I do not recall whether it is a man's or a woman's voice. "Shall I consider our arrangements concluded?"

"Yes, yes, for now. We may deal again, my rival, but when we do it will be on another plane of existence entirely!"

"Enjoy your evening, Rasputin. I have much to do."

Rage flickers across Grigori's face, but then he laughs. "Yes, you go! I have my own business. And perhaps a lovely lady to enjoy it with!"

The light across from the man fades. And so does the man's expression. For a moment, he is slack. I see his hand reach to his side, feeling for something through his coat.

The carriage stumbles.

"Driver! Carefully now!"

"We've arrived, sir."

"Ah." Grigori pulls at his collar, stiffly shuffling free of his seat's plush grasp. "In that case..." The door to the carriage swings aside and he steps outside.

It is brightly lit. Gas street lamps harshly displays a large yellow structure, farmed in white pillars shining in the night. Three floors of window's over look a newly frozen river, shining candlelight across the cold water into the cold air, but Grigori pays no heed. His eyes and his smile are locked on a young woman, waiting by the entrance. For her part, she eyes the royal carriage, silently mouthing her wonder, so she is hardly aware of him stealing up beside her.

"A lovely evening to you, my lovely lady." She squeaks and jumps, flinching away from his grin. "My good friend Irina said she would have many interesting people over tonight, but I had no idea how soon she would be proven right."

"Oh!" Flustered, the maid bows low. "No, sir, I'm just, just one of the Princess's maids!"

"Just, nothing, my dear. But I see you are impressed by the royal carriage." He sweeps his hand outwards, drawing her gaze. "I can give you a personal tour sometime, should you wish to discuss the Lord, my beauty."

He is suddenly close.

"O-oh... P-please come in, sir!" She scurries away to the nearby front door to hold it open, still bowing low as she disappears inside.

He grins as he strides past her. "Thank you."

Without pauses, he shrugs his coat free from his shoulders, smoothly divesting it onto the woman as she shakily straightens from her bow.

She falters under its sudden weight, quickly turning pale. "O-oh! Yes, sir, your coat, I, I will have it hung in the... Oh, over here!" She is gone, fleeing into an adjoining hall.

He watches her go. "Lovely." And as he turns back once she is gone another servant, a butler this time, appears at the foyer's end. He bows and directs the new arrival but Grigori ignores him completely, striding past into a long, narrow dining hall. There a table is set, with a handful of men either sitting or standing, idly picking at oeur d'oeuvres. At Grigori's entrance they all look sharply up.

"Well? Where is Irina?" The culprit grins. "I hope you sad-looking lot are not the only company she has promised."

The air is strained.

"I jest, I jest good sirs. Please, don't allow me to interrupt." He pulls up a chair, ignoring the weight of stares on him. He sits next to a clean shaving young man, hair short and combed neatly to reveal a set of over-large ears. They perk up as Grigori leans over. "Well? Where is she? She's your wife, is she not, Prince Yusupov?"

The man, her husband the Prince, bears the invasion of personal space stoically. "The Princess is upstairs, getting ready."

"Truly? But she is usually so punctual. I am the late one!"

"Yes, Rasputin. Late indeed."

This is a second voice, leaning from across the table. This man is older, sterner than the Prince, but seems no more happy to see Grigori. If anything, the weathered lines on his face register visible disdain.

"Ah, Grand Duke Pavlovich. The pleasure must be all mine, from your expression." Grigori smiles through a bite of cheese, reaching for another cracker to smear with spreading. His gaze wanders over to another figures, standing beside the duke: this one is bald, but with a thick, well trimmed beard. "And of course, the politician is here; what a trifecta you lot. Tilt your glass back, your sourpuss, have a good time. The war is going well. Is it not, Vladimir?"

The bald man shrugs. "Mixed tidings, Rasputin."

"A pity." More crackers disappear. "Well, once our Emperor has seen to things, I am sure it will all turn out well. And all this talk of 'Revolution' will be stifled once and for all. Stupid concept..."

"Rasputin." Surprised, Grigori turns back to the Prince. The man is gesturing a servant over, who holds a shaking plate and a worried expression. "Here, you should try this, made by my wife. It really is quite something."

"What? What is..." The plate is slid before him, cake with a thick helping of white-frosting.

He stares at the slice.

"I usually do not eat such delicacies. They do not agree with me..."

The three men stiffen.

And yet Grigori grins. "...But if the Princess has taken up a new hobby, how can I resist? They will surely be as sweet as she is."

With no hesitation, he takes a bite.

He coughs slightly.

The three men watch.

But Grigori quickly recovers his grin. "...W-well, she certainly makes a distinctive cake!" He takes one more bite, then another, savagely digging into it.

The servant, already on his way from the room, stumbles, just barely making it out. A wisp of purple smoke trails across the floor. None notice it.

"Here, wash it down it with this."

This time it is the bald politician who leans forward, having just called the attention of a second servant holding a bottle of white wine. A glass is hurriedly poured, and the servant leaves as soon as he can. But he does not make it far before the drink is greedily snatched up, quickly chasing the pastry down Grigori's gullet. But he pauses, swilling it in his mouth for a moment.

The three men, and the others in the room, watch him. They do not see another wisp of the purple smoke.

But Grigori swallows, and licks his smile clean. "Not a bad year. Bit of a potent aftertaste, but an interesting wine." He coughs, reaching for a napkin to dab at his mouth. A stain of red spreads on the luxurious fabric, but he pays it no mind as all eyes turn back to view his server slump against the wall, not even having made it to the door. "Oh, but I do think that man-servant has been sampling the wares. Look at the drunk! At least he's having fun."

All pleasure and no business, the tall man returns to his snacking, ignoring the ashen faces of his colleagues.

He eventually noticed, waving a tiny fork. "My goodness, you gentlemen are being quite hospitable. Not even saying a word! Must be warming up for when the women arrive, right?"

The men glance to each other, doubt spreading. One even checks a clock on the wall.

"What is it, my earstwhile companions? Expecting-"

"Father Grigori."

The butler has returned.

All eyes flash to him, but he bears their gaze calmly.

"The Princess wishes you to visit her upstairs, sir."

"Finally!" Grigori stands, chair skidding noisily aside. "How wonderful. I shall take my leave for now, gentlemen. Try not to enjoy my absence too much! Hah!"

"...We shall, Rasputin."

The door closes behind him and the butler as Grigori is lead down a hall. And then another, and then up a flight of stairs. Through yet another hall he strides, confidently following the butler's direction.

One final ascent, and they have arrived in a dimly lit antechamber. The servant gestures to a door at the room's fair end, bows, and then withdraws.

Grigori stands alone. He looks down at door. No light spreads from beneath it.

He strides forward and firmly wrenches it open, pulling himself into the darkness.

And he grins.

"Irina?" He boldly calls out in the silent, blackened chamber. "Irina? I was not expecting so intimate a-"

A muzzle flashes, a gunshot blasts.

Rasputin staggers.

He falls forward, to his knees, then to his face.

The smoke clears, and a candle is struck.

A few more, and the room is lit, revealing eight men. They glance at each other, before reaching down to the still form on the floor.

"Quick, throw him on the bed and bind him in cord. They'll want to see the body." One, the shooter, directs the others, two of whom begin dragging Grigori across the floor.

"So this is the guy those rich men were so worried about?" The man at the left shoulder grunts as he pulls. "He's big, but doesn't seem so tough as all that."

"Well, not many people are tough enough for a bullet. Here, lift his legs, we'll drag him."

The shooter shakes his head, looking disgusted. "When they save lift with the legs, they mean-Gurk?" With a strangled gurgle he collapses. The others stare at the blood quickly well up through his perfectly intact shirt, yet both it and he smoke purple.

No one can move before Grigori strikes, viper like. The motion is seamless: in one instant a man is shocked, the next he is broken, neck shattered with a sudden twist. The corpse is tossed at another gunman as the culprit slams his fist into the third. He staggers back, cracking but not shattering a window that overlooks the river. He slumps as Grigori rears up like a vicious beast.

Another shot rings out, then four more from two guns. This time the tall man falls forward, stiff as wood, floorboards creaking under his weight.

There is silence again. The three remaining men standing in the candlelight.

Finally the first weakly chuckles. "Perhaps I ought to shoot him again, eh? Just to be sure."

The laughter is strained, but the tension eases from the room. The five remaining assailants approach. Slowly this time.

Grigori is motionless.

But a candle flickers.

Then another.

Suddenly the room is dark; a sharp gust of wind cuts the air as purple smog rushes to all corners.

"Aack, argh-"

"Oowargh-"

"What? What is that!?"

One man speaks that aloud, having struck a match, but he is the only one of three left on his feet. He and his companions realize with horror the two remaining shooters have collapsed as well, blood pouring from their backs.

The breath of night subsides, but the chill stays.

There is motion.

The match flickers and sputters out. Muffled cursing masks several failures.

Something shuffles.

All three men hear it, spreading out.

"...Ahaha..."

A gun fires. The flash illuminates a tableau; Grigori is gone.

"Where'd-!? A light, get a light!"

Another flash. Gun smoke swirls in the air. Something shifts.

"Hahahahaha..."

Finally a light is struck. But the match is quickly dwarfed by an eldritch glow, flickering purple mists flooding up from below.

"The Hell!? The H-"

A scream of pain and fear, and a wild gurgle.

"...gahahahah, AHAHA!"

"Run! RUN!"

The man who shot fires again and again.

"AHHHAAHA-" Rasputin laughs as a bullet kicks back his head.

But the shooter falls instead, a hole in his brow. And Grigori straightens his neck, twin trickles of blood from his forehead and lips the only marks. He wipes both, then grins wildly.

"The door! THE DOOR, IT'S JAMMED!"

The last survivor claws at a door that must be sealed by some horrible power.

Finally after several seconds he turns, ashen pale.

The room is darkness and purple, dark luminescence. Nothing can be seen, nothing heard save his shattered breath.

Suddenly Grigori is visible.

The terrified man pulls the trigger.

Two heads burst, but only one recovers.

The candles reignite. The room is a horror show, a maddening smear of blood and bodies. Yet the culprit, or perhaps the victim, of it does not mind. He glances at the blood on his black robes.

"...At least it does not show."

He takes a long stretch, then strides for the door, but his hand never reaches the knob.

The air freezes. Bitter cold, deadly cold. He is encased in ice, mid-step transfixed.

After a few moments, the door opens.

A cohort of hooded Orthodox priests and suited men file in and spread out, stepping over the bodies. Another, a woman in what looks like more Western religious clothing follows. The young man, the old man, and the bald man from below enter last, remaining near the doorway in disgust.

The foremost of the three swallows hard. "...Did the distraction work?"

"My lords, you and the others should stay outside." The foremost Orthodox priest, holding a strange looking crucifix, waves it through the air to weave arcane sigils, floating in the air. He speaks to the suited men, but his eyes are focused forward. "We do not know for certain just how broadly his Eye for an Eye ascribes guilt to an action."

So he does not see when the bald man approaches Grigori.

"Why do you think? He's dead, isn't he?" He taps on the prison. "You lot promised you could eliminate him, if we partnered with...?"

The ice cracks.

"Get out!"

The three men hurriedly obey as the ice shakes. They have barely escaped when it shatters, splintering noisy shards. Most of the religious men have managed to defend themselves, but a few fall pierced by cold daggers. Grigori emerges as the mist clears, hand covering his mouth as he coughs, choking wetly. "Eugh... Bad reaction. Yet it will heal soon enough." Blood drips through his fingers, but the pain quickly passes and he smiles a bloody smile.

The group of magician's stand carefully, ringing the room around him. But their target just smiles, and steps forward.

Yet he is surprised when the mist coils and wreathes around him, obscuring his view. He pushes ahead, but when it clears he is back in the room's centre.

"The ice was a distraction." The Western woman speaks this time, her face still shrouded. "When it broke, the icy shards and dust were shaped to match the legend of the Mists of Avalon [9], whose barriers can not be navigated by those not blessed by St. Michael. And until you die-"

"Ah, an Illusion. At least this is more imaginative than most attempts." Grigori half-ignores, half-revels in the look of annoyance his interruption draws. "Of course, I was not expecting English Magic. I wonder if you lot are after my rival as well...? Well, good. Less competition."

"Enough of this." It is the Orthodox head again. "Rasputin. You have become a threat to the Tsarina, and to Russia herself. Today you die."

I have learned the title of the Tsar's wife. But Grigori smiles through the threat.

"I have heard that before. Try and kill me; you just teach me more of death." He sweeps his arms, barely stirring the climbing mists. "You orthodox fools. You really sent all your combat Magician here, lambs to the slaughter? And called in English help? If you hadn't set yourself against me, you might all be alive come tomorrow."

He raises his hand, and his purplish smog rises, folding and curving in the mist. A tendril lashes forward.

But the mist rises, falls, and the Magic has gone nowhere.

"You did not let me explain. The Mists of Avalon have a secret method of escape, but those who fail are cursed to wander until they die." Now it is the English woman's turn to smile. "We know if we attack you directly we will die. You may be tough to kill, Rasputin, but even you need to eat."

"I see." The culprit eyes his ephemeral trap. "Well then... Try harder." He calmly bends over, a long motion given his height. He rises with a still warm gun clutched in his hands, and he fires. At himself.

The entire room flinches as he crumples, dead.

The mist swirls.

But then falls flat and disappears.

As alarm erupts among the priests the purple smog takes up the air again, stripping all light. Magical chaos ensues, a clustered battle in a bedroom apartment. For even though they know it pointless, when cornered every person's response is to fight back. So they fight and die, and Grigori fights and dies.

But he lives again.

And is the last man standing when the battle is done and the candle's relight.

His clothing is ruined, splattered with his blood and that of others. But the culprit does what he can to clean his collar as he steps to the room's single cracked window. "I suppose Irina is not here after all. What a shame, I was truly looking forward to-"

Someone stirs. It is a man, under the body that had been tossed into him, waking up from a mild concussion. He is clearly confused as he mumbles nonsense.

"What, you live?" Grigori watches with open amusement as the man blearily scrambles for a desk next to him, clutching blindly at its surface. "I must not have thrown him hard enough..."

But he paused as he steps over, puzzled as his final victim tries to stand, swiping his hand across the surface. Something silver and sharp flashes across the floor, skittering then lodging in Grigori's foot.

He winces, mildly surprised, but soon is angry. "Fool. What good would that do? That is just a scratch, n-"

He stumbles, hard. Alarmed, he glances down. But the knife has already been pushed from the healing wound, clattering to the floor messy with his blood. And it is his other leg that failed him. It is unsteady, slipping on gore where before it was firm.

"N-n-n-n... Nnn?" He tries but fails to speak. Half his face is slack, the other twitching violently. His hand weakly presses against it, feeling for sensation. But it is as dead as the earth, cold as the corpse. I can feel it under it his hand, feel the awful sickly feeling of numbness with him. Something is wrong in his mind. Something his healing can do nothing for, a vessel burst in his brain. [10]

He staggers backwards.

And backwards, and backwards.

And suddenly through the window, crashing out into the night.

And crashing through the thin ice, splashing bitter shards into the river, drifting down in the spreading numbness and cold, body fighting and healing but the failure, somewhere in his mind, unhealed and spreading.

My thoughts, and his, are distorted, scrambled, but all he thinks as he sinks, all his thoughts are those of a wounded dog, hurt and confused by betrayal. The culprit sinks, weakly cursing whatever weakness of will or spirit it was that lead him to his watery end.

And so Grigori Rasputin dies.

But he persists.

He floats in a void, sightless, soundless, utterly without heat, together we fall into the pit of reality, the grim end of all.

Suddenly we feel is It's presence. The First.

I feel a sense of peace wash over Grigori.

It offers the deal, the second chance.

"Ah... I see. This, then, too, my Lord."

He takes it without hesitation.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

I have still not explained my true purpose to my teacher. Or the dreams.

To make ends meet we have continued working "part-time". At least, that is what he calls it, but I want to disagree on account of our working nearly everyday, all day. If this is only only part of our time, full must demand even our sleep. But still, my teacher insists this is temporary. We have built up some money, and since we live in this warehouse our needs are few. So we finally have had some time to do what I came for.

But instead he is teaching me parlour tricks.

In my earliest memories in the Cabal, before they discovered my limitations, I recall being lectured to in a small class. About various basic principles of Magic. I am fairly certain that techniques like the "French Drop" and the "Card Warp" were not mentioned. But my teacher insists this is crucial, so I don my smile and go on. He is particularly enamoured with the Quick Change.

We have just finished practising the Cabinet Escape today. My joints are still sore. My teacher says I am naturally skilled, but I have heard flattery before so I just smile and nod, just like I do with the customers I serve in our paid work. He does tell me that very soon, we will be ready to practice Magic for real. I pretend to not be anxious.

I still do not understand the man, my teacher. He tells me to call him "Terrance" but I just avoid this issue. For my part I have told him to call me Miss Baker. It is sufficiently close to the truth, Catherine Bachar, that I do not feel I am lying. It seems to truly matter to him that he know my name. Even so, I have made him promise not to tell anyone; I cannot let my presence be track here further.

What a strange man he is. At times he is utterly lifeless, and at others he springs into chaotic action. I have no idea what triggers the transformation, or if he is somehow spurred on by something.

It does not matter, because I have a greater purpose. The dreams still come without change, so for now I am content to watch and learn. I will learn how to manipulate him soon enough and get my answers when I trust I have control.

I have been neglecting my analysis: of course the re-emergence of that strange presence on this, this third dream, brings it back to the forefront of my thoughts. But I realize now that Grigori Rasputin, as my research confirmed, had a difference experience with the First. He was influenced by him through this strange scroll, which I should seek to recover, but had his strange power before this. Or perhaps not; maybe it is just that my perception of events is too narrow. And the man also seemed to have some sort of broader agenda. I wonder what his role in all this might be. Or perhaps there is no connection at all, and my dreaming mind has just gone mad.

[Orsola's note: the same division of addendum follows as before.]

 **It is terrible and dread.**

 **Awoke from death, yet not dead.**

 **It calls in silence, and It brings a deal.**

 **It knows few and many things.**

 **It is nothing, yet still clings.**

 **It calls in silence; It offers a deal.**

 **It sees mistakes that have been made.**

 **It sees the flaws that It has laid.**

On the Eighth Day of Christmas: The Lords betraying.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **The Ninth Summon:**

 **Subject:** Ching Shih

 **Temporality:** 1775-1844

 **Capabilities:** Gemstone/Magician Hybrid.

 **Gemstone Ability:** The subject appears to have total control over visible sources of water, an ability labelled by Academy City as Hydro Hand. It is unclear if there is any upper bound on the volume, or the variety of effects created, given displays of power illustrated in the recovered journal. The only apparent limitation is that line of sight is required, or perhaps some other mechanism to expose the water; ie, not sealed away. Although our understanding of the finer details of high-ranking espers is unclear, it is highly likely that this subject rates at least a Level 5 ranking.

 **Magical Skills:** In an unexpected blessing, this subject has only demonstrated a single magical spell; our analysis division suspects it is a weak tracking and guidance spell, attuned to a specific person who would have long since passed away. Other magical potential is possible, but nothing further is revealed within the recovered journal.

 **Conclusion:** With gemstone powers alone, Ching Shih is a dangerous opponent. It was previously suspected that her success as a pirate along China's coasts was related to Magical prowess, but the dream journal provides an alternative interpretation. Of note is the merciful and honourable attitude historical recollections describe her possessing: negotiation and threat mitigation remains an option. Should that fail, Saint-level response is recommended.

 **Entry 25**

Date: August 9th

1) 走出潮流;一个新的浪潮诞生了

 _On the day she discovered her powers, she knew she must be strong._

The dream begins in nothing.

For a long moment, all is obscured, shrouded in fog or mist. But a scene resolves. I see a coast, long and rugged, roughly scattered rocks and jungle-like trees the jagged border between land and sea. The waves splash high and strong, battering the air with concussive force. But they don't seem to bother the only figure, a little girl of Asian providence, standing atop a promontory of stone, a cliff starkly cutting into the sky. In fact, she does not seem to even notice the waves, so intent is she on a piece of string, dangling from the finger tips of one outstretched hand.

It whips about madly then swings in large circles with every gust, but the little girl has locked her gaze to the simple lead weight dangling from its length. She stares at it with such focus that I keep expecting something which never comes; when she whips her arm back and storms away from precipice I can only imagine she is equally disappointed. The string is soon looped around her neck, and she quickly leaps down the stony passage, heading inland only a short way before skirting the jungle's edge and jogging along the coast.

It does not take long before she arrive at what, judging by the small skiffs and boats on individual docks, must be a fishing village: I count only five real structures, and the paths leading into the jungle look more used by animal than men. Yet the girl leaps sprightly over a few tangled plants that clutter the way and heads towards the smallest hut, just on the outskirts of the rest.

I only realize how loud the ocean was when she steps fully into the home. It has been reduced from an all-present cacophony to a roar of dulled violence, but the ramshackle construction is still cozy and serene. A warm central fire is boiling a battered iron pot full of bones and gristle, but everything else seems like it was either carved from the jungle or dredged up from the sea. Hooks, chains, and other metal ruins are stacked along the wall, as are lines and cords of all shapes and sizes. Fully one half the space is taken by a complex arrangement of woven containers, baskets of all sizes. In the remaining room, sitting atop the lone bed, hums an ancient looking woman, her shaking fingers somehow deft enough to thread grass through grass.

The little girl pushes into the pile of wicker, searching for and finding one that is damaged, and joins her senior upon the bed. There they work a long while in silence. Time must pass much slower for them than I, for I notice that the day is already deep into evening before the old woman speaks.

"You were down by the ocean."

"Yeah."

"Did you look for washed up goods?"

"I did. Found none." The girl speaks tersely, almost rudely. Either way, it turns the senior's neutral expression into a toothless grin.

"Did you look for anything else?"

An audible pout is her only response.

"As I thought. Stubborn child. Cannot be satisfied with an honest life."

"I will not mend baskets and sell scraps in the market all my life." The little girl sets down the basket she had fixed, grasping another at random from the pile. "I'll find my own way in the world, grandmother."

"Just like your father?"

The girl mends the basket she holds with such vigour that it does more harm than good. But she says nothing, even when her grandmother chuckles.

"Yes, and in more ways than one."

The work in silence a bit longer, as the fire begins to burn itself out. The old woman leans down for another stick but stops, groaning as her back stiffens. With a guilty expression, the little girl stands up and feeds the fire for them both. She tries to ignore her grandmother's gaze, but fails when the woman speaks.

"That charm your mother gave you is real, you know." The little girl reflexively clutches at her necklace, but refuses to turn. "It will lead you to the object of your heart's desire. Your father."

"...It doesn't do anything." Hesitant at first, the little girl moves to sit cross legged before her grandmother's feet, unhooking the lead weight from her neck. "I do what she said and hold it out, but it's just a rock."

"You lack a necessary step." The old woman gains renewed vigour, the fire from the pit seeming to leap, reflected in her eyes. "Come, my grandchild. I will show you something of the old ways. Give it here."

Though very concerned, eventually the little girl acquiesces, passing the stone along in an open palm. Gravely serious, the old woman handles it with care, holding it briefly by the string. It does not move before she gives up, and cups it in her hand.

Suddenly the fire from her eyes passes into it with hardly a whisper. Now the stone smokes, not hot yet glowing, and the old woman's breathes onto the rock, a long string of whispers which I cannot hear but which hold the little girl enraptured. Both watch as the lead weight rocks a little under unseen forces; the woman again takes it by the string. But this time it swings forward, rocking and tugging towards the little girl sitting wide-eyed, open-mouthed.

And then it stops, swinging back. The old woman exhales, coughs heavily, fighting for air the little girl scrambles to her feet. Once certain her grandmother is well, the little girl stares at the stone instead, transfixed.

"Why didn't mama ever..."

"She knew, yet did not have much gift for it. Thought it all improper superstition and gave it up, and I could not tell you the truth before her ailing body failed her. But I suspect you will keep the tradition alive. Now get some bowls. We eat."

"Now!? Of all times!? Grandmother-!"

"Enough, I need rest. I will teach you after we eat." One look at the little girl's impertinent expression brings another round of laughter, then coughing. But when she recovers, the old woman becomes all cheeky humour. "...But if you want to practice now-"

"Yes! Yes, teach me!"

"Then do as I say. This will require your body to focus on itself, and your mind to look inwards and see your own essence. Sit down, and stop fidgeting. Good. First we will awaken your own understanding of Magic, but we will also have to attune the charm to your wants. You see, your heart must remain firm and unclouded, or..."

For some reason, their conversation grows distant. I can still see the room but they grow blurry within it, and various things move and distort. But I still hear the old woman's voice one last time.

"Follow this, and pray you seek that which you find."

The blur ends; the hut is dark. The fire pit is cold and empty, nearly as empty as the hut, stripped of all goods and the few decorations it bore. All that is left are the shelves, the old rough bed, and the little girl. She is not quite as little any more, but still she seems young, especially carrying such a large basket filled with odds and ends bound to her back. It almost bows her over, but she remains strong, taking one last look at her home before turning. And from her neck, the stone dangles.

Once outside, the village is much the same. Nothing marks the day as special, but though the girl faces the swirling ocean, drinking in the salty air, she spins away. Hoisting her makeshift backpack for extra balance, she heads a short way into the jungle, down one of the less trodden paths. In a minute, she arrives at a small stone feature. It may have been stacked stones, carved from a boulder jutting out from the earth, or something in between; time has weathered it too much to tell. What is clear is that it is a poorly tended shrine of some sort, cradled underneath an overhang of dirt and roots.

Some of the dirt has fallen at it's base, and the little girl stoops down as best she can to clear it from a collection of carved stones. They are flat, polished by the tide, but engraved with characters or symbols; I cannot tell which. Regardless, she reaches into her pack, and places one down beside another. She looks at both before kneeling, lost in some internal prayer I can only guess at.

Then she takes off her necklace, and holds the stone as her grandmother did. The fire leaps from her eyes, the stone glows, and then she lets it swing. For a second it tilts forwards, wavering between the two markers, back and forth.

Then it swings out to sea.

She walks back through the village now, quickly coming to the dock. She drops the bag of goods down by a man, who sits whittling a spear. He looks at her; at the basket; at her again before nodding, gesturing with his head at a rough, patchwork dingy tied to the small wharf. It rocks violently in the surf, tattered sail barely holding together, but the girl steps inside without a second glance back.

Soon it and she are cruising along coastline, rocking high and low in the rough waters. For a while, the girl is content to just float. But eventually she decides it is time for direction, for she lets the sail fall slack, and pulls her necklace from her neck.

She holds it before her, but before she can begin her Magic the boat creaks. She looks down in time to see a splinter fly loose, and a thin trickle of water spout. It widens in seconds before being joined by two more. The girls searches frantically, but finding nothing begins to bail with her hands, yet it clearly has become to late for that. Her craft is sinking.

Though I would likely die, I can only imagine a girl who grew up by the sea might be able to swim, make it safely back to shore, retreat back to her home and be satisfied with life. Yet as the sea batters her boat, weakened by age and ill fortune, she refuses to be bowed, screams at the sea, ranting and raging, her stone smashing into her forearm as the boat tips over.

It passes completely beneath a wave, nearly breaking in two, yet the girl hangs on to thin mast, even now refusing to end her fight.

And as her body drifts into the darkness, I feel a change in the water. Uncaring, violent forces become more of an embrace. By now I know well what is about to come, but could not suspect the magnitude of her Power's first expression.

A massive plume of water spits her out into the sky, boat and girl together crashing down yet landing gently, cushioned upon the waves. She stands wrapped around the mast, drenched for a second but with a swing of her arm dry again, a whip of water flinging back into the ocean. Her chest is heaving but she is on feet and smiling. Grinning, having tasted something she very much liked. That strange familiar presence of the First remains, but slowly fades into the background.

The stone swings out to sea. She follows.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

We practised magic today, for an audience. Or rather, he did. At first we planned that I would perform some simple tricks of sleight of hand as an assistant to his larger efforts. I remember foolishly asking him whether or not we would actually perform any spells, but he hesitated, said I might not be ready. So he instead encouraged me to observe his work this first time. He had told me next to nothing, just to come along and watch. I was so stupidly nervous.

He entertained children.

Children.

At a "birthday party". I do not even remember being a child, let alone celebrating my day of birth. Is this just American strangeness? That they use Magic for something so mundane? Or is this just how low my teacher has fallen?

Yet somehow he smiles. And hardly ever uses real Magic. Most of the time he just flicks his wrist, or distracts the eye to produce those simple parlour tricks of his, and now mine, I suppose. No one sees the real skill he has, that I've seen hints of such as when he turned giant. Has he lost all confidence? What happened in his past? Is this what a famous Magician does? I almost want to ask, I know so little.

I should be clear that I don't particularly care. But I do need my teacher to be at his best. I need his knowledge and skill more than I need him. That I must remember.

So we work. And we need the work. He is not rich, and without this work I am penniless. If only he had not squandered his wealth I could have used his resources to discover what I needed. He must have must have drunk it away before my arrival. He is lucky I am here to keep him sober, to insist we spend our little money wisely. It is good he listens to me.

I remain a model student, putting on the faces that make the children happy as I perform some simple tricks. It really is not so different as appeasing those in the Cabal. To seem innocently open, and earnestly happy, is not hard for me. He even says I am a natural.

I really do not know what to think of him. Sometimes I find him insufferably energetic, yet at times he is possessed of a truth and certainty of perpective that I keep wanting to understand. It is almost as great a mystery as my dreams. Still, his company is not intolerable.

Now that I am reminded of the dreams, I realize nothing has really changed. Certainly it progresses towards something, but for now I am content to wait.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 26**

Date: August 26th

2) 强大的暴风雨; 很快就砸了时间

The dreams begins upon choppy waves.

At first I cannot tell if I am in the water or above it, but I gradually realize I am at the prow of a large vessel, but not long and sleek like a sailing ship. At least, if it is a sailing ship it somewhat different from what I imagined; it appears to be a massive collection of anything that could possibly floats, barrels and crates and logs bound together into a rough, raised platform. But atop that platform rest a large pagoda, impressively well constructed in contrast to its bearing. It flies several flags of red, waving low in the weak breeze.

It seems the craft is still a vessel of some kind, dirty and crowded with cannons and hosts a variety of weapon on racks just below a heavy hand rail surrounding each side. Men and a surprising number of women, all asian, bustle about the deck, moving line or shifting gear, readying for something. I quickly see the boat is one of dozens, maybe hundreds, but this vessel overshadows the rest. It follows them along as they make for a distant coast.

My view is pulled along and upwards, to a higher makeshift deck on the pagoda's ship front. [Orsola's note: The word 'front' here is scratched out and replaced with 'bow'] There three figures stand in open, looking ahead over the open sea to the shore. One is a huge man, his thick black beard heavily tangled with decorative straps of coloured leather, bound in convoluted ways. Another is a much smaller boy, bare-faced and holding a piece of brass navigatory equipment carefully to his chest. Both are dressed in sturdy but fancy coats, a style I have never seen, and both stand carefully behind the third, a woman.

It is quite clearly the same girl as before, grown up and hard, perhaps in her mid thirties. Her face is attractive but angular, worn and roughened. She wears some kind of padded, armoured overcoat of leather and a simple helmet. She takes this off as the big man speaks loudly to her, revealing closely cropped hair and a blank expression.

"-all I suggest is that we meet their forces well away from the mouth of the Humen strait, so that in case their forces... Were under-estimated..." [10]

His voice gradually lost its edge, took on a more respectful tone as he began to feel the weight of her imperial gaze. Only when he silenced himself did she speak.

"Or?"

"...Or you could rely upon the storms again, Madame Ching."

"So I could." She nodded, as serene as the waves. "And I shall. These Portuguese interlopers have apparently not suffered enough honourable defeats, to think that their long range guns are enough to have us accept surrender and amnesty. It is is time for a more firm response."

"Yes, Madame Ching. I shall finalize the order, and bring the Red Flag Fleet to bear."

"You shall."

Thus dismissed the man strode away, doing what I must guess is his best effort to maintain a manly stature. He never even glanced at the silent boy before he left but the little boy looked up at him; he must have been no more than four, yet he stood naturally upon the rocking ship. When they were left alone he wavered in the chill air, waiting for the woman known now as Madame Ching to turn her attention to him. But instead she stares out to see, idly playing with the necklace.

"You-you sent for me?" He finally stutters with trepidation, but the woman smiles down upon him as if full of surprise. She bends low in a display of awkward affection, one which I am well acquainted, and as I expected the boy swallows nervously. I am certain she sees, but she pays it no heed.

"Yes, my child. I want you above decks sometimes, you know." Her good humour has an edge as she straightens. "You must see the ocean, and feel the air more."

"But this is where bad men fight..."

"Yes, and you must see that too," She firmly chides, finger waving. "The world is not as safe as it seems in my cabin, nor as safe as it is upon on our own territory."

"Yes, mother."

Satisfied, Madame Ching steps towards a railing on the left [Orsola's note: Now read's 'starboard', but with a question mark beside a scratched out 'port'] side. She waits, and eventually her son follows, but while both watch the sea he does so with much more concern.

"Do you remember the story of when I first ventured out into the world?"

The little boy only shook his head, holding close to the railing.

"Did your father not repeat it to you, before he passed?"

More shaking.

Madame Ching sighs. "When I first came to this fleet, I was taken. I was a woman of comfort, you know. Never forget that you come from low beginnings, but can rise high. Remember that." She waits for him to nod before she continues. "I was raising money to purchase a better vessel, since my old one had rotted to the core, but I was captured. Had I known piracy was so convenient I would have done it on my own."

Here she laughed bitterly, just once.

"...Then ,this group was still led by Cheng; I wooed him upon my capture, and then turned my will towards his, our success, so I could continue my search. And success we had, raising the fleet to glory and wealth, giving it order, curbing its more rapacious tendencies. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mother."

"Good. Cheng died. Since I no longer had the ear of the leader, I simply became one, made allies, manipulated rivals, took power. Few argued. Those who did had their minds changed. Few sailors argue against the ocean, especially not when she speaks so clearly." She allows a splash of spray to crash up and rain mist upon them; the boy flinches away, apparently knowing better than to flee. "I led them well, found your father, and we led them better. Than we made you." Her hand drops from her necklace. "He was a strong, clever man. I do miss him."

"Me too."

For a second, the look of a parent filled her face; worry, but also love. When she knelt down this time, it was far more honest to my eyes.

"My child. There is a purpose to all things, and all people." She grasped his hands, drawing his wide eyes to hers. "But you have your own two hands to take action with. Never forget that. I have faith in you."

He nodded, and smiled just a little.

"You shall find yourself." The necklace swung against her chest. "We all search for something."

She looked forward again, and this time the shore was much closer, the mouth of a strait opening wide to admit ships to harbour. At either side two islands narrowed the gap further, but they stay outside the waterway. Along the shore tall masted ships can be seen approaching, sailing in an orderly line. Madame Ching watches them.

"Go inside now. I will call for you when it is over, so you can see how diplomacy works." He runs, back into a stairwell in the ship's rear [Orsola's note: 'rear' to 'stern'], but she does not look back. Instead her hand move to the lead weight jumping on her neck.

Carefully calm, she holds it out, and seemingly not needing the same Magic as before it is alive. But its direction is confused, pointing all directions at once. And then it stops, or at least stops its Magic, as it begins to swing gently to rest. She does not let it, returning the string to her neck. She spits over the side of the ship in annoyance, cursing quietly before turning her attention to a sudden booming crash in the distance.

The first salvo of cannon fire lands short, but the tenor of activity changes on board as they prepare for battle. Yet it seems they can do nothing but put more effort into rowing, into leading sails to catch the wind.

Though explosions rock the water, she closes her eyes. I can feel the disturbance of her powers; it is slow and massive, an overwhelming feeling of depth, that fills her mind. It may be just her eyes, but the sky begins to darken.

Over several minutes the fleets draw nearer, and enemy fire begins to hit its mark, smashing up the select leading ships and their nearest neighbours in great explosions. The sky grows darker still, and the pagoda ship's red flag begin to strain.

They are just across the opening of the river mouth now, and pressing close enough to the enemy to return fire, but it is immediately clear they are outgunned. Bravely they press on, and the winds grow heavy, pushing them forward and slowing their enemy. Rain begins to fall.

The lead weight around her neck flings itself to the right [Orsola's note: 'starboard'], snapping Madame Ching's attention away.

"Now!?" It pulls so hard that nearly flies from its string, but she grasps it, holding it firm in her hand. I can feel it fighting her grip, seeking to head into the river mouth. "Of all times now you work again?" It ignores her, as she must have expected, and steadfastly points the way.

The fleets draw closer still, but unseen rocky islands between them cut off the advantage of numbers. Her men below shout for orders, but she is distracted. When she ignores them and flings herself from the boat they cry in panic.

She dives gracefully into the water, but is suddenly moving like nothing I have ever seen, cutting through the water just beneath the surface, under the shallow boats. She surfaces, bone dry, amid shocked pirates, but still the lead weight pulls her ahead. The battle rages around her, shells exploding and voices screaming, yet she ignores it, casually swatting attacks from the sky.

The pull grows strong, and she holds it by the string now, letting it drag her along. Suddenly she is at the edge of a ship, looking out onto one further out, furthest out, sailing alone. A little scrap of boat, manned by a one-arm figure, barely hobbling along, victim of a near miss. She stares at it with wonder and horror, and it drifts closer. Several things happen at once.

She meets the eyes of her father.

For a second he smiles.

Then the necklace falls slack.

And an explosion tosses her backwards, rocking and nearly sinking the small vessel she had stood upon. When she stands again, he and the boat are gone.

It is as if the world around her is a separate thing, so still does she stand. It is only when great cries of despair raise up around her that she turns, and sees shells have begun to strike near the pagoda.

She is moving again, suddenly whipping towards her son again, but this time she strides upon a wave, pushing aside all other vessels. Even faster now she has arrived, but the battle has turned against her. The storm she had conjured lost its course, and now was blowing them all inwards, into the mouth of the strait.

She seeks her son and finds him, crying at the entrance to the deck. A few quick words of comfort are all she can manage before they are joined by the bearded man.

"Madame, we are routed, the storm has failed us! We must go, flee with your son and wealth!"

"No." Her voice is cold, but not hard. "For the first time since my youth, I am at the mercy of the sea."

"Madame!? What do you..." He checks himself, purely of habit, for her eyes are too weak to glare. "What are your orders!?"

"We retreat, into the mouth. And pray their offer of amnesty still stands."

"Yes, Madame!" He shouts, conveys the message, and the fleet comes alive.

But before he can join the forces, she speaks again, pushes her son into his arms. "Take him and hide him. I am certain they will still come for me. Keep him safe. Take the wealth at the hidden point and hide."

"Madame, I canno-"

"Go."

A geyser of water rockets through the pagoda ship, catching the segment of wood the man and her child stood upon, firing them high into the sky, through the storm. She watches them fly for several moments, guiding them with her power, then steps onto a nearby dinghy with a powerful leap.

Amid cries of abandon ship, the fleet sails into the river's mouth, and it is with resignation that Madame Ching watches her home burst into a fireball and sink, along with all her dreams.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

For weeks now we have been performing shows, serving food, and otherwise working "part-time", though the name seems to be a cruel joke. I had was prepared for it to be difficult to learn Magic, but not like this. I am tired every day, even when I do not work. But still, I insist we practice, and my teacher obliges. Sometimes I think he is more eager than me.

The trouble has been that he has insisted on my learning parlour tricks first. "It is how I learned" he says with an infuriating grin. So I smile and nod and pray my annoyance is hidden.

But things move ahead. I have read what he has presented me, and I am starting to see where the Magic comes into his actions. The hidden movements that represent hidden possibilities, the words that distract as they conjure. He has even given my a hand-me-down Magician's hat, which he claims is an artifact he can pull himself through if I only wish him to be with me. None of that was Magic I could perform, not yet. But I have finally convinced him. Tomorrow he promises we will work with runes. He promises me this is Magic. He seems hesitant but I am insistent.

I wonder at his motivations. I expect he plans to use my skill as an assistant, to market me in some way for his return to glory. That is only reason I can think of now for why he focuses so much on practical skills and his parlour tricks. After all, he demands on sharing our earnings equally even though I attempt to be a good student and stay humble. Even though I have repeatedly requested to not be given attention, he still promotes me like I am his assistant. I barely know what I am doing, but he is firm.

We never did discuss how I will pay him back. I hope he thinks my saving his life is enough.

I hope he never finds out it was my fault.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **Entry 27**

Date: September 10th

3) 减少到涓涓细流; 死亡的计划被入侵

The dream begins in a smokey den.

The air is chokingly full of it, gathering everywhere in thin, streaming bands. In the distance, I heard voices, some raised in laughter, others despair, but always the bustle and movement of people, the clinking of metal and glass. But the room I am in is silent, even the sound of the sole occupant's breathing smothered by the silk wall hangings. She is an old woman, wrinkled and worn, propped up against a dozen pillows, eye's half-lidded as she holds a long thin straw between her fingers. It winds down to a large, complicated kettle or pot, and she draws a deep breath through it before exhaling more smoke into the room.

There is a knock upon the door frame; the old woman ignores it, for it has to knock a third time before she moves her shaking hand. It slides towards a side table, upon which rests an ornate silver bell. Though she barely rings it at all, the door to the outside world slides open, admitting the increased sounds of revelry outside and a young, pretty woman.

The newcomer closes the door behind her and relative quiet again shrouds the room. Her face, painted with makeup, is kept respectfully pleasant as she bows low, kneeling. There she waits for a moment as the old woman stiffens, collecting her thoughts.

"...What is it, girl?"

"Madame, the triad's representative has returned, with one he claims is a higher member, as you asked. They seek an audience."

The young woman has not moved from her bow, waiting as the older woman takes another deep draught of her smoke, drinking it in. "Send them in," She says, around coils of smoke. "And tell the others to leave them be. Oh, and bring our guests and myself each a glass of fine wine to drink."

"Yes, Madame. Shall I administer-"

"No. Just wine."

"Yes, Madame."

With an impressive combination of speed and grace, the young woman is escaping the room; it grows louder again as she passes through the sliding door. She turns back only for a second, and I can not quite tell if her look is one of fear, respect, or pity.

The old woman does not seem to mind, and slowly hangs up the end of her straw onto the larger pot. She pushes herself more upright, muscles straining, bones creaking, and forces an alertness to her gaze.

The sliding down opens again, but this time the noise comes with it as three men enter the room. One seems nervous, keeping his back to the open room behind him; I can see now it is full of people drinking and making merry, throwing dice and all manner of other things. But the other two are more confident, with the lead in particuluar wearing a cruel sneer.

"Ah, Madame Ching. Your hospitality is legendary, myth made real." He bows, but only partially.

"You are welcome." Madame Ching, now old, nods with severe delicacy. "Just a moment, please."

The young woman has reappeared in the doorway bearing a small platter, serving all as quickly as her dress can allow. Three sets of eyes follow her around the room, but Madame Ching's view only cares for something distant, unfocused on events around her. By the time the young woman has left, she is present once again.

"Now. Speak your piece."

The leading man sweeps his arm to gesture at the man failing to leave the room unnoticed. "My friend and associate here, he tells me that he was given a..." He spends a second to consider his words, sipping from his glass of wine. "Less than encouraging response. To the business proposal, that my superiors wish you to consider."

"That is true."

The man is all smiles, while his bolder partner nods in time with his words, arms crossed. "You ought to realize, old woman, that if you want to run a gambling house in these parts, you're going to have to be careful. As my associate tried to explain, these are dangerous times. You really ought to accept our hand of friendship and protection."

"I have been here longer than you have been alive." Madame Ching does not even pause for breath to answer his claim. "And I shall outlive you and your empty threats." Her glass remains untouched.

"Boss, really, I think we-"

"Silence yourself." The lead man barks, fist twitching in a feigned strike. But it has the desired effect as the other man cowers. "Old hag, you may have a fool scared, but I am no fool." He now downs his drink, smashs the glass against the wall, and while her eyes are drawn to the motion snatchs a hand into his pocket. "Hah!" He shouts in triumph it reveals a golden circle, woven in loops like a dozen snakes or a pile of cords.

It flashes brightly in Madame Ching's face, and she recoils, honestly surprised. "Ah! My eyes, my old eyes..." She rubs at them with the palms of her hands, blinking in the smoky air as the men begin to laugh. "What a cruel thing to do, I have not been outside all day..."

"This here is a Daoist talisman, of a forgotten master who fought blood-leeching shamans." His sneer "Our Triad worked very hard to find this. Do you know what it does to your kind?" She ignores him, dabbing at her eyes, so he continues. "When a practitioner of dark arts, a Wuyu like you, sees it, it seals their powers for an entire day! [11] You see we are not to be denied." Now he begins to walk forward, approaching the old woman as she finally regains her vision. "If you had obeyed I would have left you in charge, but now we'll be assuming direct control over your rotten old corpse."

Madame Ching tuts softly, more in chagrin than disappointment. With a flick of her hand, the wine in her glass shoots outwards, knocking the talisman against the wall before it clatters to the floor. The three men stare at it in shock, surprisingly oblivious to the solid sphere of wine hovering before the old woman.

"Do you think that such has not been tried before?"

The wine splashes down to the ground, and the splatter it makes draws their attention back to her. The other two rear back in terror, but the cruelest of them, the leading man, is held stiff and trembling, eyes wide.

"What I am is not touched by your flimsy trinkets."

First wine, then water flies out from his mouth and nose in wispy bands, and he shrieks horribly as it splatters like blood on his clothing.

"I ruled once, you know. Over thousands upon thousands. I could rule again."

His skin seems to flake, his flesh to shrivel. Cruelty unmatched shines in the old woman's eyes. Cruelty and anguish.

But then it falters, she coughs, slides back into her cushions, and he falls to the floor gasping, scrambling for his feet, trying to follow the others who have already fled.

"...But I do not care. Begone."

She is already alone.

The noise outside, only diminished by the commotion, rises again.

Eventually the old woman slides her hand to the side desk, and rings the bell.

The young woman has return, fearfully avoiding the spill upon the ground. "Yes, Madame?"

"Get..." She coughs again, but raises a hand to avert the young woman's attempts at care. "Get someone to clean this up. And take that trinket and put it in the front desk."

"Yes Madame." After bending down to grab the talisman, the young woman cannot help but return to her leader's side. "Madame? Can I assist you? You look..."

"I am dying." The shocked gasp from the young elicited nothing from the old. "I can feel the waters in me slow."

"But without you... How could we, this place-"

"It will survive. There is always a need for diversion, in the hearts of the weak." She laughs, but without depth, sinking deeper into her pillows as she closes her eyes. But then she rights herself, gritting her teeth, something remembered. "Wait, girl."

The young woman does as is asked, watching quietly as Madame Ching snakes her hand onto the side table, but this time into it, into a small drawer in its side. She slides it opens and slips out her necklace, its lead weight nearly weighing down her hand. For a moment they both look at it, until Madame Ching takes her eyes up to her attendant. She considers a moment, then shakes her head.

"See that this is buried with me." With fingers fighting to hide their trembling, she slips it over her neck. It lies still. "Perhaps my hearts desire shall be waiting for me. But if not, I shall find it again. Now go. And bring a rag and bucket."

The young woman leaves, and the door slides shut. This time, the noise outside fades away into nothing, as does the room itself and the world it contains. Light slips into darkness.

And so Madame Ching dies.

But she persists.

The darkness has become an ocean around, one beyond her control but supporting her old body. There she floats in a void, sightless, soundless, utterly cold, and together we slip into the absence of everything, into nothing at all. And through it all, she is motionless, empty. Ready to accept it all.

Suddenly we feel is It's presence. The First.

Inside Madame Ching, something flickers. Hope.

It offers the deal, the second chance. Redemption.

"I understand. Very well."

She takes it with boldness in her grasp, hands strong once again.

And the dream ends.

!~~~~~~~~!

 **MAGIC.**

[Orsola's note: The majority of this page is filled with this single word written very large. The remainder is scribbled in the space below.]

It is amazing it is amazing it is amazing I love him

[Orsola's note: The following addendum is scrawled upon a separate piece of paper, taped to this one.]

 **It is terrible and dread.**

 **Awoke from death, yet not dead.**

 **It calls in silence, and It brings a deal.**

 **It knows few and many things.**

 **It is nothing, yet still clings.**

 **It calls in silence; It offers a deal.**

 **It sees mistakes that have been made.**

 **It sees the flaws that It has laid.**

 **It calls in silence; It demands a deal.**

On the Ninth Day of Christmas: The Terror striking.

!~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes**_ :

[1] No, I am not explaining Rock Ball. You've had enough lore. _I'VE_ had enough lore.

[2] I think this is an interesting insult that people living underground might come up with. Perhaps something to do with "loose rocks" or other bad things in mining would also work.

[3] I kept the name Kiakona hidden this whole time to give the sense of tunnel vision (hah) that I wanted Asu Afu to have.

[4] I felt like giving a bit more context for how the Russian Magic side of things happened would be interesting, considering their bent towards annihalating the unholy. I think Rasputin fits as a good instigator for most of that, at least as far as a potential historical figure could. He's not quite the Russian version fo Aleister Crowly, but he's close. As for adding the Golden Dawn, this seemed like a chance to show their efforts to gain mastery of Magic, and perhaps resistance to their efforts.

[5] Our Lady of Kazan is a holy Orthodox icon in Russia, on the level of the shroud of Turin. Supposedly created under divine influence, I'm pretending that the real one is an artifact.

[6] An Archimandrite is a high position, the head of a monastery, in the Russian Orthodox Church. Baker writes in her journal that Rasputin visits a cathedral, but she is simply mistaken.

[7] A strannik is a holy wanderer, a pilgrim whom is considered especially divine either by deeds, speech, or lifestyle. For a while, some claimed Rasputin was one. Other called him a charlatan.

[8] A postal coach driver, but one who make take odd passenger jobs. It was often a occupation for the more well-to-do of the lower classes. There was very little prestige associated with the job but it often paid well and indicated the driver was fairly trustworthy. Isn't learning fun? However, I'll admit other parts of this story are fabrications, accelerating events so that I can add drama and make this more narrative focused. For example, the Tsar's son was not sick until later, in 1906, while the first meeting here is pictured earlier, November 1905. History!

[9] Hey look, Arthurian legend. Makes for good English side Magic. Well, suffice it to say, the background is pretty well explained in the story.

[10] In case you're wondering, Rasputin is a lot like Tsuchimikado; in fact, he has the same ability, just hundreds of times more effective. Even a major artery in his heart being ruptured is no cause for alarm, healed nearly instantly. But if his brain is damaged in just the right way, a roll of the dice that was bound to happen the way he cavalierly let himself heal, could mean his ability to maintain his personal reality and thus his regeneration would be damaged.

The truly clever may think "Hey, these summon guys are special precisely BECAUSE they can cast Magic and have an Ability at the same time. What gives with Rasputin?" You're right: he still the experiences the normal backlash of casting magic while a Gemstone. He is unique among the summons in that he is the one that is a testing ground for having Magic and Gemstone powers work together, without killing the user. This will make more sense from a time-based perspective once more about the First, the big bad, is revealed in the end game of this whole part. Consider this a sneak peak.

[11] More commonly know as the Battle of the Tiger's Mouth, this naval action actually happened. Hundreds of pirate ships fought a few dozen Chinese boats and six Portuguese vessels. I won't spoil the ending, but I did change some details: her husband Cheung Po Tsai wasn't dead yet for one, and obviously Gemstone powers.

[12] Wu Yu is the Chinese version of a witch, but really has much greater connotation than that. Shaman, spiritually strong person, all could be equally described. It's a complex language. Anyway, in literature and myth Daoist monks often battled evil across the lands, inspiring others and doing good deeds. It seemed an appropriate reference.


	71. Part 3: Chapter 13

**Hello all. As of this chapter, we are over 60% done. Hints of the climax are available to see, and our protagonists are reaching a turning point, each in their own way. What remains to be seen is how events will unfold, and if there will be time enough for everyone. Small side note: due to circumstances beyond my control, I have been doing almost all my writing on a phone. This may have introduced some autocorrect errors that I miss, so I apologize now if the edits suffers. I go over it again and again, but I frankly am prone to mistakes.**

 **But for now, thank you for returning, and welcome back to a Certain Holiday Season.**

 **And next update, I'll have a surprise for you.**

 **Chapter 13**

10:00 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 7: Apartment Zone G

From all sides the Faerie Fire approached: from no angle was there a chance of escape. No gaps in the sky, no tunnel below. Instinctively Hamazura dropped Touma to the ground and fell over top, both praying the suit could withstand the heat. The attacks exploded just as before and the air filled with green heat and flame.

But none trickled down to where they hid beneath the Power Lifter. More surprisingly, the machine did not melt or smoke or burn, but only rocked very, very slightly, as something petite landed upon its back. For a moment Touma was too grateful to question things, but when a second wave of fire broke harmlessly around them, he had to wonder aloud. "Why aren't we dead?"

"You know, I thought these would be super more dangerous because they burned such a weird colour." Eyes wide with a mix of fear and surprise, Hamazura tapped at his monitor as Touma strained to see, routing an external view to a camera upon his mech's back. The perspective gave them both an interesting view. While green fire burned and died all around, more prominently framed was a young girl with short brown hair and nothing else but an outrageously short sweater for the weather. She stood right above them, hands on her hips. "But I guess nitrogen doesn't get along with fire no matter what hue it is. I was super hoping to see if they could be interesting to play with, but if they're smothered just by the excess gas my Offensive Armor makes then it's plain boring."

Touma just gaped. But Hamazura shook his head.

"...So that's what Kinuhata's... Look like. Didn't expect the hearts."

He and Touma shared a look, much like co-conspiritors whose attempt at a minor burglary just escalated to Grand Theft Auto with sirens in the distance.

The latter coughed. "...Does that thing record?"

"I think so. I'm deleting the feed now."

"I don't even know her and that sounds like a good idea." _Glad we're on the same page._ "Let's keep this little experience between you and me."

"Between you and me, we'd be dead if didn't."

"Hey, do I hear not one but two super annoying voices down there?" In a blind panic with Touma egging him on, Hamazura managed to cut the panty-feed just in time to save their lives as Kinuhata Saiai crouched down to look at them, hair brushing the snowy ground. "What are you losers looking- Hey. Hamazura, why are you with this guy? Aren't you that guy from the Dianoid, with the Germain virus thing or whatever it was? What the hell are you doing super here, I came to-"

"Yes hello nice to see you, is this time for questions?"

"That was super a question too."

"You know what I mean!" Seeing it fruitless, Touma abandoned diplomacy and struggled to squirm out from under the weight of the Power Lifter. Upon recognizing his efforts Hamazura pushed up from the ground for the other boy, denting the concrete and prompting Kinuhata to leap smoothly down.

"I think he's right. We're clearing out, this thing can't take this kind of abuse and it'll come out of my paycheck if I can't explain." He spared only a glance back to the girl as the last bit of fire died around them. "I'll come back, but you have this one for now, right Kinuhata? You seem excited anyway."

"That's a pretty super obvious question. But I'd get out of here quick you know, if you don't want to play the part of the token tertiary character that dies to the monster to show how dangerous it is."

Though the fires had faded, the source of the inferno itself was approaching. Slavering, twitching, it hauled itself rapidly on encroaching vines, with several shooting out towards them with impaling intent. But Kinuhata assumed a fighting stance, and like an pint size sumo intercepted the nearest with her palm. Though she rocked a little under the force of the blow, the vines blew apart and the plant creature screamed.

"Don't need to tell me twice!" With all the spirit of a condemned man given a second chance, Hamazura carried Touma like a distressed damsel, and they lurched from the scene. "Man, what incredible luck, one violent female to counter another while I can escape! But wait." The moment of elation passed, and the worry came back. "No, this is too good."

"What?" Touma grew nervous with him, sensing the worst. "What do you know that I don't?"

"One violent woman is bad enough. Two is okay, if they are mad at each other. But..." Now he tensed, looking over his shoulder to the point that he slowed. "If Kinuhata's here then-"

It was lucky he did, for a beam of bluish light devoured the air right where they would have been. But it also devoured a tangled wreath of vines that had been snaking around the sidewalk to throttle them; the plant matter boiled and burst then burnt to ashes all in a second.

"Are you seriously such trash that you didn't even see me and that was just luck, or are you going to pretend you planned that?" The youngish woman standing a good distant away in a stylish full length coat would have passed as refined, if one did not see the subtle spark of madness in her eyes. She sashayed past them now, aiming another blast of her power striking the main core of the monster just as it leapt at Kinuhata; it was half cooked, half knocked away to become a burn messing of howling cinders. "But if you're going to run, run. I guess that suits your baser nature."

"H-hey, I'm coming back you know-I mean, only if you want!" The Power Lifter raised its arms in panic, but Mugino Shizuri's glare was only a temporary threat. She had already forgotten the two level 0, her eye on the real target.

"Hey, super unfair! I wanted to punch that thing, this is totally like living a horror movie! Plus I can try out new moves on a regenerating monster."

"It's not that scary. Honestly, I've seen topiary more threatening in hotel lobbies. Just save enough so we can make a wreath out of it, that lazy bum forgot to get one."

"No, we're in a horror movie all right." Hamazura muttered as he did his best to make the Power Lifter tiptoe away. "It's just a Kaiju clash, that's all. And it's on the door already, you just didn't look, you damn..." [1]

"It's like they're coming out of the walls." Somewhat overstimulated, Touma slumped in the machines embrace, resting the back of his hand against his head. "What the heck is with all these battle school girls tonight? And you hang out with these two, don't you?" _I can't even handle one..._

"It's not that bad. I guess. Mostly."

Touma stared at the boy. _That sounds a bit like denial. Or maybe that syndrome, whatever it is. I should-_ But his impression was averted when Hamazura's face truly shifted. When Kinuhata had shown up, it had gone from terror to relief, and though Mugino had inspired a brief return he seemed only nervous after. Now, all that remained was ease and a smile as he gazed at yet another girl.

This girl was tallish with shoulder length dark hair, and Touma also recognized her from his first visit to the Dianoid once she lowered the binoculars she was lifting in one hand to reveal her dreamy, almost sleepy eyes. "Oh, uhm, it went south, to run away I think." The walkie-talkie in the other buzzed, and she fumbled to turn it off and hold to it, the binocular, and a package she held under her shoulder as the chaos of the battle fled. Eventually she let the view-piece hang from its cord around her neck, letting her finally holster and mute her radio. "There. That's much quieter. And it looks like everyone else knew better than to come outside in the middle of this. That's good."

Touma looked up, and following her spaced out gaze saw many heads from apartment windows looking out in amazement, a number commenting on the particularly cool effects that were on for this New Year's Eve display. The thought almost irked him, but the conversation nearby distracted him instead.

"Rikou, you have no idea how happy I am to see you." The girl fought to hide her embarrassment, but Hamazura had too much momentum. "You knew I needed help, and even managed to convince ITEM's heavy firepower to... to come and..." His face trailed off along with his inertia as he saw Takitsubo Rikou now trying to hide her confusion. "You had no idea, did you."

"Maybe. Uhm. No." She quickly relented. "Uhm. You needed help? Was something wrong? Actually, what was that all about?"

"No, no way, this makes no sense then! Why are you here tonight, I thought you were home with the others helping them prepare for that party they kept talking about? They were so excited, something about bringing the whole complex to its knees. " Though he sounded interested, he quickly snapped back to his paranoia. "Actually, why did those two come then, is everything okay, did something else go wrong?"

"They followed me... I think they maybe wanted to take their anger out on you since no one RSVP'ed to their party..." She suddenly raised one soft hand to her lips. "Oops. Did I lead them to you?"

"It's fine, and I'm not worried about the party anyway, we had other plans. But I still thought you were busy til late, I was trying to get work done early and rush over so I could get ready for our-?" He blinked stupidly at the brown, neatly wrapped package that she had just thrust into his arms. "Eh?" He looked back up at her. "Eh?"

"It's lunch." She looked away, twirling a bit of hair with her now free hands. "I know you are working hard, so I brought you a lunch." But then her sleepy eyes narrowed further. "Though I suppose it took me a while and it's supper now. Oh, is it past supper? That's why I'm so hungry."

"Never mind that, don't worry." As gently as the giant machine could be coaxed to move, Hamazura and Power Lifter settled back, were one as they fell at ease. "And thank you, but we can eat once we're away from all this, they can handle that thing."

"Hey, hold on now, that might be-"

"Isn't this safe enough? I mean she's fleeing from Mugino and Kinuhata, right?"

"Are you sure leaving just them to-"

"Yeah, but I think this is just the start. And she didn't seem hurt, just angry. We-"

"Hold on a second already!" Touma had to shout to break up the conversation even though he was held close by Hamazura. The other two, having forgot about him, were just shocked enough to give him the entrance he needed. "Look, you can't underestimate that monster, it's almost immortal and hardly feels pain! Just a tiny bit and it grows back nearly immediately, and worse it's controlled by a very clever and dangerous woman with a whole host of dangerous tricks. We probably should get back and warn them, or at least-"

"Really?" From their intensity Touma could tell he had finally gotten through to them, even though only Hamazura responded. "So those two can just go nuts forever and ever and it will keep coming back? And it even learns, so they won't get bored?"

"Yes, that's exactly my point and why are you smiling like a lunatic!?"

Hamazura looked fit to cry, so fiercely did he clutch his fist. "My god, the perfect punching bag. Christmas came late, but boy did it come!"

Even the girl smiled, clapping slowly. "Yes, those two will be very happy! I'll tell them it was a gift from you, if you like Shiage."

 _Fine, attempt two._ "Look, there are a whole bunch of invaders like her all over the city, some way worse, and I'm trying to head North-ish from here to stop them! Can I get a ride or something? And then can we take this whole thing a little more seriously, so we can all get back to whatever it was we were doing?"

As often appeared to be the case, the girl was a few step behind. "Wait, did I interrupt your work? I thought your job was to make the fireworks ready for tonight. I was looking forward to them... And why are you under attack by a plant exactly? Are you messing with dangerous things again without involving me?" Touma saw concern and annoyance mixed in equal measure, but Hamazura was somehow ready for the strange perspective.

"No, I swear, I was going to call as soon as I had a second. I definitely needed help this time. I'm not too proud to admit that, I'm just some punk who gets lucky."

"Oh..." Now the girl looked fully away. "You'll make me blush. Eheh."

Touma squinted his eyes: looked to her, then back to Hamazura.

"Ah, anyway," The young man coughed and made the machine jerk, whipping Touma like a lash in the process. "I should get this guy north, but don't worry, I'll come back."

"Okay. I will stay here and try to limit the damage that can be traced to us, and help if I need to. Though I feel it is going to be okay."

"Same. But on the bright side, I think I can take an early night off thanks to the fact this lifter isn't going to be able to carry more fireworks around. So wait here, and we can share that lunch as we walk to that roma-" He tripped over his tongue and coughed again, just as they were about to set off. "Ah, nice viewing spot I told you about."

"Don't be silly. I made it for you." Takitsubo Rikou met his grin with a wide smile. "let me know when your business helping him is done."

"Right, see y'all in a bit!"

Giving Touma no more time to question or wonder, the machine began to jog down the street, leaving the burnt ground, the happy young woman, and the starry sky together alone.

!~~~~~~~~~!

10:04 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 9, Hologram Art Garden

Much was beginning to run out in the holographic park. First and foremost was a certain scientific Accelerator's patience, as, second, the Park's holograms ran out of energy and became somehow more annoying as they chirped out only stuttering parts of their speeches and melodies. But the most worrying thing to run out was the battery pack that lead to the boy's choker and lifeline. But rather than say a word, or voice the annoyance he faced, he only continued to stare at the impenetrable black sphere.

For though accelerator had to focus nearly all his efforts on slowing down the time vectors of his opponent's power, he had spared enough to test the boundaries of its effect. Brute force had failed to make a mark, but so too did subtlety. There were no gaps, no possibility for physical vectors to cross a threshold where time went from flowing to time had been stopped. All that he could do was extend those time vectors that Alexander had woven to infinity: or at least, to infinity in reference to reality, Accelerator was quick to note.

And yet with all the certainty his brilliant mind could muster, he knew that it would not last much longer than his own attention could. The known variables of the enemy's speed, reflexes, and ability pointed to a single conclusion. But no matter where he looked around him in the ruined park, not a single power outlet remained intact.

"******* city of the future, my ***." His scowl was fierce as he stood up to do nothing for the third time in a row, casting his gaze across the ruined park. "Can't even get wireless recharging solved yet."

But before he could walk away, kick off from the ground with his vectors to seek a source of energy, his eyes spotted something far more important. She was just barely visible to a normal person, and would have been an indistinct blob to anyone else. But as the relay point from the vast network that enabled his calculations, Last Order was impossible to miss with any of his senses.

The little girl was bundled up in an oversize fleece coat, turning herself this way and that as she stumbled around as a lost child might. In fact, he guessed, this was probably close to the truth. So close in fact that he did not hesitate to turn the last dregs of his power towards reaching her, stamping down his cane to raise three pillars of solid rock up from the chasm below between them.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah no, Misaka Misaka cries as Misaka Misaka tries to crawl away!" The earth shook hard enough to send the little girl for a spill, but the fear on her face was that of having her hand caught in the cookie jar. "Misaka Misaka was supposed to find him first and warn him before she got caught, Misaka Misaka reflects as trouble is coming!"

Whether or not it occurred to her that a running narration would hinder her efforts to hide behind a mail box, Accelerator had no need to abuse the gift. Instead he pushed off from where he bench and black sphere to bound between pillar tops, ground shaking with each launch as they sunk back down.

"What. Are. You. Doing here?" His final landing ending just beside the cowering Last Order Accelerator picked her up by both shoulders, firmly yet somehow gingerly hoisting her in the air. "Do you know how God damn late it is you little... I don't want to have to ignore a lecture from policewoman for an hour or two."

"No, Misaka Misaka protests as she tries to kick free, Misaka Misaka has something very-"

"And where the God damn hell is Worst?"

"Misaka Misaka says she thinks Worst is still snoring at home, Misaka Misaka relays, judging by the sounds heard, but Misaka Misaka insists-"

"I'll kill her."

"No no no, later! Misaka Misaka says, desperate to get to her point!" She squirms valiantly in his hands, more so that usual focused on escape. "Space-time is wrong, Misaka Misaka forces out, says Misaka Misaka while extremely worried!"

"You think I don't know, you little brat?" His snarl of anger was replaced by a snarl of annoyance. "That's why I am here and you should be home."

"But Misaka Misaka thinks you are probably missing something, Misaka Misaka insists with every fibre of Misaka Misaka's being!" Her little fists pumped at the air, fighting whatever she thought she could reach. "Though on the same network, Misaka Misaka is sure Misaka Misaka has a different perspective and more information, Misaka Misaka pouts as she realizes she is being treated like a child!"

"You are one." Growling now in a failed effort to get her to calm, the boy tried to hoist her upon his shoulders but heard a beep. The collar at his neck flashed a red light, over and over, in time to a steady click. "Damn it all to... Get out of here, now! This is no place to be when I get to cut loose, just tell me later!"

"Misaka Misaka protests that that is entirely the problem, but Misaka Misaka does so weakly now as she notices he is already gone..." In one leap this time and with the power in his battery pack just about empty, he landed beside the sphere again.

But it disappears a second before his vectors take control. Despite the fact his batteries are nearly drained, Accelerator's understanding and manipulation of the vectors around him meant he could just about follow Alexander's instant jaunt across the park to where he now stood, holding aloft a confused and perturbed Last Order by the scruff of her neck.

"You really shouldn't have left when you did." The conqueror no longer sounded so bored and aloof. Now he was just cold. "Did you think I didn't notice what you were doing? I was watching inside, but I couldn't fight it. I tried to speed up to escape it but you just slowed it down to match. I could only watch. That makes me. So. Mad."

His hands shook, so great was his rage, and the little girl shook with them. But just as Accelerator prepared the greatest stroke he could muster, shielding her and pulling apart at his enemy with all the force of the speeding Earth, he fumbled. His cane went dead. His tongue fell loose in his mouth, and it took all his remaining mind to keep from lying down on the snow.

But Alexander did not care, or even notice as he vented, half in control, half wild and brutish. "I've learned. If you try that trick again, you won't like the results. I just wonder what it would like reversing someone's personal time back to nothing, but I bet it would be a fun way to kill. Someone. Like you." Almost forgetting to breathe, the conqueror coughed and sputtered, but nothing would slow him now. "I keep learning more and more about my power but it always just means I keep winning! Even when I get stopped for once I my life, if I just easily surpass it what is the poooooint!"

There was nothing Accelerator could do, other than fight to collect his scattered thoughts. His eyes stabbing at his chosen enemy with implacable intent, he managed to stand. But only just. He wobbled on his cane, sustained more by force of personality than muscle or electronics or vectors.

"What are you doing there? Are you going to give up now that you've really pissed me off? Fine." The first ranked only just realized his weakness had been noted. "But don't expect your suffering to end quickly." All he can do is watch as Alexander slowly lets his dire gaze fall to the now frozen girl in his clutches. "Let's start here."

It was all the motivation needed.

White light flashed. The holograms were finally blotted out by a far more intense light. Last Order felt herself whirled, unharmed by titanic forces, away to a distant street. But she was just close enough to see where the swirling wing of white power returned to, to spread out among its five brothers.

Of these, two held Accelerator aloft, pushing off the air and world together to create a constant outward gust. Two more wrapped tightly around the flickering, fading form of Alexander, while the sixth and final one drove straight through his heart.

"Sorry. I usually make the transition when still supported by the network." A halo floated above his brow, and his expression was a rare pool of peaceful water. "At least now you will understand what it means to lose, if you're in such a hurry. But I guess you're just what Dark Matter was at the end. A remnant of power that should have died long ago."

The very essence of what made Alexander himself was weakening, his role in the Magic that brought him to now under attack. Yet even so, he could still speak.

"My... By everything holy..." Blood poured from his smiling lips. "Those wings are divine, they have to be. Pure swirling possibility, part force. Part time. The world itself. Maybe this... Will finally..." His eyes began to close.

But then snapped open. First with cataclysmic rage that burned out into weary, ever weary, resignation.

"...No." Gritting his teeth, he stemmed the tide. "Damn it." Blood pooling made him cough again, but even so he did not notice.

If not for his heightened state of being, Accelerator as he normally was would have attacked now even more ferociously, ripping apart the very concept of his enemy. But some inspiration made him flee, retract his wings, just as blood spouted from his own mouth. Covering it more in shock than in pain, for the first time in a long time he felt true worry.

For the rush of light his wings created were suddenly buffeted by all-absorbing darkness. Two opposing yet matched concepts met and balanced each other, with just the carefully managed fractional bleed off of their limitless energies shattering windows and caving in doors.

"If they really are divine, and part of my power, then," said Alexander, the newfound angel, on his twisted wings of nothing and time, "I can have them too."

!~~~~~~~~~!

10:07 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 7: Apartment Zone G

The two boys travelled in relative silence as they rocked along with the Power Lifter's jog, the only break the sound of its feet crunching into ice and snow. It was almost peaceful.

"So, ah-"

"You know-"

Soundlessness reigned again as both tried to stem the rising tide of awkwardness that erupted. _We're not actually friends at all, but I really should say something._ Sensing that Hamazura's lips were fully sealed, the boy bearing Imagine Breaker broke the silence. "I, uh, appreciate the lift. Thanks."

This gave the other boy all the room he needed to relax, so he shrugged casually. "Nah, don't sweat it. You saved me from some fireballs or whatever that was." He did not notice the motion tossed Touma a little bit.

"Hey. Ah, I mean, you did the same, though I didn't understand that when you first scooped me up. I should have expected those two would be here..."

But Hamazura was on another tangent. "See, this is why I like guys. You can get out a simple thank you." He sighed, the weight of the world on his back as he slumped. "With those three, it's either debts, threats, or... Uhm..." He fumbled for a bit, then sighed again. "It's hard living with girls, man."

"Don't I know." But even though Hamazura trailed off weakly, Touma was thinking still. _Honestly, we may just be exceptions in this weird world, guy or girl. Two paranoids just trying to stay alive._ Feeling a surprising amount of kinship with the ex-Skill-Out member he had slugged several months ago, and had worked together to stop several threats in the interim, Touma was astonished to feel himself relaxing. "You have those three? I have two and a cat. Maybe two cats, actually..." He ignored the small growl from inside his hood, secure knowing his passenger would not reveal herself.

But perhaps he should have been more worried, for Hamazura was looking away, thinking as he piloted the Power Lifter. Then he snapped his fingers. "Ah, that little girl in the white habit from the mall, right? I remember her."

"Yes! Index!" Touma felt all the ease drain from his body. "I'm actually looking for her, her an-"

"And the third ranked, right?"

"Yes, Mikoto to-NOW HOLD ON." _Thinkthinkthink._ "I mean to say, I'm looking for her, not living with her. That is not the case, even though she came over Christmas Eve. Why am I telling you that?" _Seriously, Kamijou-san, calm down. You're tipping your hand._

All his fluster was earning him a long, hard look. "...Why is it okay to say you live with one, and not the other?"

"Index. S-she's a nun." The fact it was not a lie and let him avoid the question was the only reason Touma was able to keep up even a semblance of calm. "That's why. Do not ask any more questions or else you pry into the sacrosanct."

"Uh huh." There clearly remained an urge to pry, but with restraint honed by substantial experience the other boy relented. "Well, I thought she was dressed oddly, that silver-haired one. But since she's a nun, I guess that makes more sense about you and the third ranked."

"Mmhm." Touma nodded, relieved to have gotten the main point across whatever. "But hey, you're taking in a giant plant monster pretty well. Not even curious?"

He snorted. "Sure I am, but curious right now means heading back to something that has the others' attention, and that kind of curious gets cats vaporized."

"There's more than one way to butcher a metaphor, I guess." But realizing he was hardly one to comment, Touma changed the subject. "Hey, are you sure they are going to be all right?"

"Are you kidding? Mugino and Kinuhata are going to have a blast. They've been bored for weeks. Should save me trouble later..."

"I think I meant Agnes and her brother." Though it was much to distant now to see, Touma looked back, still expecting to see some burst of light and explosion. "Was that seriously the fourth ranked level 5? That blast is something else, she's even more destructive than Mikoto. And the fact that other girl was almost as vicious..." Touma shuddered, but then caught himself. "As the fourth ranked, I mean. Not Mikoto." _Maybe. I guess it depends, actually, and usually she-_

"Dunno." His rambling thoughts were cut short. "I'm not the one attacking random people, so I don't really care. And that's her name? Strange, where's that from?"

"Mikoto? I mean, I don't know but I met her mother and she didn't-"

"No, I meant, Agnes." Confused, Hamazura shook his head. "Anyway, how far north do you need? I can get you further faster than this, but I need a moment to contact someone."

"Please, and thank you. Speed sounds good right now." Impressed that Hamazura could type a message and run so accurately, Touma kept the conversation going as a new worry hit. "But... That last girl, the one you are, ah..." _Never mind. Don't assume._ "Anyway, is she all right? She doesn't seem nearly as violent. Agnes is clever: she might take her as a hostage, but will the others-"

"It's fine."

The confidence, the simplicity, and above all the lack of anxiety in that statement gave Touma the brief impression he was talking to someone else. The trademark grimace that seemed to always paint the punk's face smoothed out, just as when he was with Takitsubo. And just like then, he seemed almost a different person, but Touma saw that was only almost.

"Those three have faced the darkness of this city for a long time, and in all sorts of ways. They know what it means to let your guard down, and how sacrifices are made. And they definitely, even her, know how to fight. Worst case scenario and she does get caught, it will all be part of the plan. And if it isn't, they'll get out. And if they can't- Well, I'll be back by then to help."

 _I can't tell if he's paranoid or not, after that disturbingly detailed yet somehow cool speech._ So rather than question it, the boy merely acknowledged the strength of that complicated mix of feelings he felt. _I just wonder now how he's doing it._ "You must be pretty close to them, even those violent two."

"Well, yeah. But that's how it gets when you fight alongside people long enough. Even low class guys like me can trust eventually. But you're close to the third ranked, too, so you know."

"Ah... Ah? Who-" _Idiot_ _that's Mikoto._ "-Yeah, w-well I mean, sort of, but I was thinking more, maybe, I think it's different-"

"Ah, I understand."

 _Oh._ "Oh, good." _Wait, really?_

"More like me and Rikou, then. Good for you." Hamazura nodded, the matter settled. "I've seen you two together a bit, and heard a few things. Makes sense I suppose."

"..." _I really should have asked about her and him when I had the chance._ Through sheer force of will Touma kept from broaching the awkward question, even though it meant letting a potentially earth-shattering assumption slide. Yet inside, something else stirred. _...The real question is, what the heck do I feel about that?_

!~~~~~~~~~!

10:09 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 13: An Alley in District 15

" I know you are leading me somewhere..."

No matter where the spy looked, a hint of the purple fog chased him. Implacable, immutable and immune to anything he could even think to attempt let alone his wounded state.

"But are you leading me away, mm hmm hmm hmmm..."

He crouched lower inside the car he had forced open, just one like many of the hundred others which lined the multiple story car park. But he had chosen this one in particular, not for its size, but for its nature as a storage lot for academy city manufactured vehicles.

"Or into some kind of trap?"

Ignoring the taunts Tsuchimikado muttered under his breath, so softly even he could hardly hear. "Come on, one of these things has to have gone through testing recently." He eyed the drifting clouds of smog with a pained expression, but saw them recede. Still, he only relaxed for a minute longer before pushing out from the vehicle, just as the last bit of purple haze as fading. As if sensing his movement It had already begun to rebuild, but on he pushed himself, seeking a sign of what he needed as he lured his prey along. "They can't all be fresh off the assembly line... Why aren't they holding a charge?"

"Running or a trap... I wonder." Rasputin's deep baritone echoed through the halls. "Please do try something. I would love to see what attempts you have to bind me... And perhaps you will even bring me to Aleister, eh? He and I have much to settle."

Holding in his side, feeling the blood warm his fingers, Tsuchimikado searched. And was finally rewarded with a sign and a roadway, leading to a different area. "Aha. That's the section I need. And even better." The painted cruisers were instantly recognizable, and he admired his grinning visa get in one's mirror. "Anti-Skill hybrids, just in case the grid goes down. Now to get to work."

And work he does. Several minutes pass, as he sets up his origami shikigami, each precisely folded and set out. Sometimes he leans down beside cars to slide one underneath, in other cases break in to rest one on the dashboard. All face inwards, ringing a spell with a very specific conclusion. It is done with textbook precision and calm, even as he slowly bleeds and the purple smoke thickens.

Eventually, he watches from hiding, darting away just as his target approaches, floating up in a cushion of his power sedately.

Rasputin lets his unhurried gaze take in the unfamiliar vehicles. "I know you lead me on, but your blood makes the chase even easier. When did I hurt you? I do not know, but I can ease your pain... Well? Where are you?"

The car park does not answer him. It almost seems unchanged, just another set of cars row on row, though some were parked as if stalled in the process of testing upon a nearby but still distant indoor track. But the Russian Magician saw something far more interesting than modern day vehicles, or their methods of quality control.

"How... Interesting." He sees the runes scrawled upon the floor, partly hidden, but not hidden enough. One leads to another, and it is clear they make a small ring, the centre of which an incautious explorer might easily stumbled in. "The invocation time is long, but borrowed power... And a great deal of force." A grin curled across his lips like smoke. "I shall have to see what it can do."

He strode without pause into the very eye of the storm. "Very well, you. I stand here. At the target of your Magic, whatever it is. Please, I ask only for a demonstratio-."

Several things happens, but none that are suspected.

There is a loud smash, not Magical but primitive. A hammer swung into a car window.

Loud sirens and honking sounds reverberate inside his mind, but they come from the poorly understood vehicles and alarms, not some dazzling spell.

And a set of lights flash into his eyes, just as he turns to get hit by a car.

Not so hard he flies over the hood, and not so slow he slides off the front, Rasputin is shoved shouting, then slammed with a hideously wet crunch into a row of more vehicles, these parked. Honks die and black smoke billows as Rasputin bends forward at the waist, unable to do more than recognize the grinning face of the shaded spy.

"Gotcha." But wasting no time Tsuchimikado is upon the hood of the car beside the Magician, and throwing strangely wet rags upon his shaking back. As he fiddles with a lighter, he murmurs to himself with satisfaction. "I'll need a new shirt, but partially shredded and dipped into gasoline it's more useful to me now."

The lighter catches, and is tossed expertly atop the rags as the spy slips away from the cars. They burn quickly, and soon the entire car is aflame along with the screaming Magician. Tsuchimikado does not dally as the screams turn to silence, still running as fast as he can get to a good vantage point.

There he stops and watches the blaze. It rages wildly, but not nearly enough.

"Against anyone else this might be checkmate, but I guess this is just round one. Still," He cannot hold back a smirk as he watches. "So far I'm in the point lead, nyah...Agh-!?"

He began to burn. Hot and fast it raged, but no fire could be seen, though he was being cooked.

There was no time to analyze the Magic involved, nor to consider the backlash. Despite the pain he whipped out an Origami, a folded piece of black paper, and forced out the Magic as he aimed at the blazing car.

A meter wide sphere of water formed, and shot forward, drenching the car and spreading steam violently throughout the floor. He felt a strange pain in his leg, but it was minor enough he ignored it. Even better, the burning pain instantly subsided just as he had suspected, but his skin remained red and sore, and his lungs felt raw and coarse. Tsuchimikado could only suffer from the after effects of Rasputin's counter attack for a second before he heard the voice.

"...Very clever, blonde boy..."

Gritting his teeth, the spy leapt from the car park, noting the pile of snow he desperately aimed for. The black smog chased him down, but it was too slow: he staggered to his feet and ran back inside, disappearing amongst the vehicles.

And upstairs, crawling unsteadily atop the smoking, smouldering car, dripping wet, was Rasputin, smiling serenely.

"...Now let us see what you try next, him?" [2]

!~~~~~~~~~!

10:12 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 7: Apartment Zone S

For another short while they traveled in silence, but then the monitor on Hamazura's Power Lifter buzzed. He glanced down before shaking Touma to attention.

"Hey, good news. One of the guys I'm working on with here has a set of wheels, said he'll drive you a bit further north. He owed me one for getting him a shift tonight, so now you owe me instead."

"Great, thanks." Despite the baited hook he was being forced to bite, Touma realized he was quite grateful, albeit somewhat worried. "But I can't take this guy too far along, it's going to get dangerous again. Right now I just want to hit the middle of district 7 and look around. There might be more of them around the schools."

"If you say so. But he's a pretty reliable guy." Before they lapsed into silence again, Hamazura surprised Touma with an unexpected observation. "What's your deal, huh?"

"Ah, what do you mean?"

"You seem to have a real problem with letting other people get in trouble."

"Wouldn't you?" Touma stared at the buildings as they drifted past. "It's not like anyone else needs to get in danger if they don't have to."

"Maybe." But Touma could feel the other boy's gaze on the back of his head, and knew more as coming. "It's just that, I think every time I've seen you fighting, you're either fighting me-thanks for that ripped nose ring, by the way- who's just another nobody, or you're working with others to fight something strange. So what gives?" He scratched his neck, realizing only at the last second that he had included the Power Lifter's arm in the process. "From one put-upon guy to another, I mean. I figured you'd be used to it, like me. Heck, I hate letting Rikou getting anywhere near danger, but then I realized she is someone I need to trust. Rely on. You know." With one hand off the controls now he scratched more effectively, no longer threatening to toss Touma aside. "Plus she gets upset if I just try and do it all without her help. I still try to protect her as best I can but-"

Hamazura's speech wound along a twisting path of justification and self-reflection until Touma cut him off. "That's not the point! You know, letting someone get that involved in your messes, it's just..."

Surprisingly, Touma found his argument own trailing away to nowhere. What seemed so obvious in his head, that he just had to deal with his life, was becoming harder and harder to swallow.

 _I just have to ignore that for now. So all I can say..._ "...Look, the last time I got someone close to me too involved, I... It didn't end well."

"Oh, man." He realized how bad that sounded when he got a grimace of sympathy from the other boy. "Someone died?"

"What? No! I didn't let anyone die!" Touma recalled briefly the fight above London in the stolen Dianoid. "No one who doesn't seem to have gotten better, at least. Anyway! No, not that."

"...Maimed?"

"No!"

"How about chased? Put on a hit list? Left abandoned and alone?"

"Seriously!? No, no, and..." He caught himself, wondered a moment, and realized he did not really want to lie. _Not to myself, at least._ "...That last one."

"Ah." Though clearly still confounded, Hamazura nodded. "You know, you're more human than I thought."

"What? I'm as normal as can be, just an-"

"Average level 0? C'mon, that's my line." He narrowed his eyes, but quickly let the slight slide. "My point is that I get it. Heck, I had a teammate I was growing to appreciate die, killed by another teammate who went crazy and then lost and arm AND an eye as she tried to kill ME afterwards, while the last one and I were at the top of the this city's kill list because I keep not dying like the roach they think I am."

 _Even... Having been what I've been through..._ Touma exhaled, not having the right words of sympathy. "...That's rough. I guess I can't complain, h-"

"Of course you can!" There was a strange fire in the other normal boy's eyes, which could only be reflected from the fires which forged him. "Complain all you can, as much as you want, and kick yourself back into a place you want to be. Yeah it was terrible, awful, something I never want to think about. But in the end, I pulled us back together. The whole team, except one."

Touma saw the pain of loss pretty clearly. But it was more than that, was the guilt of the survivor. Not quite the same as the guilt of the unintentional murderer, but hard sometimes to find the difference.

"And after all that you still tried to keep it all together?" _Why am I prying so much? I should just stop talking._ "What if it all falls apart, or gets worse, or pulling it together is the-"

"It felt right." Hamazura shrugged, looking awkward and confused himself. "I didn't want to give up what I had, and fail those who still needed me, even when I was at my lowest, my weakest. To save them meant saving all of it. The good, the bad, and the potential for worse. That's just life, right?"

 _So this is the perfectly ordinary boy's answer._

 _What does that make me?_

"...It's worth it, isn't it?"

"Uh huh. It was what I wanted to do, so I did it. It just felt good. Right." He scrunched his face, nose wrinkling as he fought back a sneeze from the cold. "Listen. I can tell you, as much as I miss my old life, and my Skill-Out friends, and understand why they still want to fight that fight, my life has changed and I can't go back. And you know," He acknowledged, after failing and wiping himself clean on his sleeve. "A lot of it is bad. But also a lot is good."

"Sure, that's all something I get." _This is firmer ground._ "But this isn't just about not trusting change, or missing what used to be. Sometimes it's about-"

And then that ground fell from beneath him as something came he was not expecting.

"-Not losing what you've found."

"…" Very pointedly, Hamazura said nothing. Touma, hoping it was in self-reflection, took the chance to back pedal.

"But you know, really, at the end of the day, I can handle it. I know I can. As you say, doing the right thing means accepting the bad or bad consequences." _And I guess I have to realize others can too, right? Hamazura here, he's seen bad times too, and he doesn't have the benefits I do, or the chances. Things don't always work out, yet he keeps trying. So I can. And I guess... She can too. After all, if anyone's got more will in her than-_

"Don't be so proud."

 _Me it's-Wait, what?_ "I'm...? Hold on, wait. I don't understand, that's not, I'm not proud. I'm just not giving up."

"I always need help. We all do." As he spoke, Hamazura stared ahead, looking as troubled as his punkish face could convey. "I can't always accept what's bad. Sometimes I kick and fight, and hurt people along the way. And I especially can't do it all alone. So I always think, be proud of what you can do, sure, but never forget that you don't need to do it all, not alone. Not even a level 5 can manage that, no matter how strong. I learned that."

Touma had no way of knowing exactly what, or who, the other young man was talking about. It may have been Mugino, the Fourth ranked he knew and understood well, or Accelerator, the First ranked they had both fought against and cautiously worked with.

But he know who he thought of, and who might need his help.

 _Or maybe more than that._

And still, Hamazura waxed on, oblivious to his own rambling. "Heck, I'm nothing. I've got nothing. I'm pretty simply nobody. So there's nothing wrong with accepting help sometimes, right? What goes around, comes around. Something like that."

Touma could not help but grin along, somehow feeling better despite his unease. "I know. I've been there before. I know I've felt totally useless! Just confused and scared, eheh..."

"Damn straight. Well, I'll tell you one thing. It's good having someone to rely on. And having someone relying on you can feel even better. But when both are true, you have something really worth saving."

It was all a bit too much for a now confused, somewhat scared boy to think about. So when they slowed and a car pulled up with a window ratcheting open, it took him longer to recognize that he knew the face inside than for Hamazura to put him down. He snapped into their conversation suddenly.

"Hey, thanks again, I've got to get back to help some people. Be careful, and drop this guy's butt off somewhere immediately if things start exploding.

Touma ignored Hamazura's warning, but was surprised at the difficulty he had placing the voice of the young man who bantered back.

"Exploding? Whatever. And yeah, no worries, but don't forget you owe me twice now since I am taking your New Years Day clean up... shift...?"

A certain vaguely familiar Electromaster finally met Touma's stare, and the memory of a nearly forgotten name from his second Dianoid adventure fell into place just in time for the boy with Imagine Breaker to stammer it out, haltingly.

"Toyoharu... Kono?"

!~~~~~~~~~!

10:14 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 9, Beneath the Holographic Gateway

When Mikoto finally awoke, it was with startling speed. She had no time to react before her senses were dazzled, blasting any drowsiness from her mind. Instantly she was alert but also instantly she was distracted, every warning bell in her head going off. No matter how strong the field she tried to generate she still felt threatened and disoriented.

 _I... What... How..._ There was nothing to focus on, just static and warning, but just barely could make out a sound, a voice. It seemed to be talking to her, or at least that was what her conscious mind was yelling. But neither it nor the voice could be heard over the electromagnetic storm that was raging in her mind.

"...There."

Finally the words resolved.

"Input one; I have turned down the effect somewhat. You should be able to understand me now."

More than that, Mikoto was able to see again with her real eyes. It was hazy, and she felted bombarded by lights; she realized the feeling was literal. Strange colours seemed to play across her face, as projectors of some kind beamed information-encoded rays directly in her mind. The experience was bewildering, like vertigo on a sinking ship. But she could see just enough around the displays to understand her predicament.

She remained in the room as before, but was propped up against something she could not see in the middle of the room; before her, a section of the ground had raised which held the tormenting light-show. But was surrounded even this was what astounded her. A full fledged laboratory had emerged, but one fully computerized; every surface, even the very air hung with monitors and information. But when a second flickers, only briefly, she saw it all for the illusion it was.

A facility of holograms, controlled by the wispy looking man standing to the side, looking at her with studious interest. But not an intense scrutiny; his was more the prodigious scientist or precocious student who, fully understanding the experiment at hands, watches only to ensure he has not made some simple mistake. Yet he looked more like the former, wearing a blue-tinted white lab-coat and sporting a similarly hued beard. In fact, he seemed to glow entirely blue, so strong was the display of holograms that made up his work space. But the smile on his face was real.

"Input two; yes, I see the anger in your eyes now. Output one;" Though dazed, Mikoto could understand he spoke with an odd turn of phrase. "Quite according to projections, your Electromaster ability is capable of being overwhelmed with stimuli when precisely orchestrated and constantly calibrated. Another acceptable experiment completed." She also understood her predicament. "Output one; Misaka Mikoto, alias Railgun, alias Third Ranked. You are my prisoner. Do act like it."

!~~~~~~~~~!

 _ **Footnotes:**_

[1] I'd been planning each and every encounter from the moment I designed each summon, back before the beginning of Part 2, with stupid jokes exactly like this in mind. I'm strange.

[2] Even for those who may have read his backstories, Rasputin's power was left somewhat vague. What matters is that he is capable of significant regeneration from his Gemstone Ability, and can offset damage to him back to those who caused it through his Magic. Plus he's just a frickin' big dude who's not afraid to get his hands dirty, and with a flair for the dramatic with his immortality complex. Fun concept.


	72. Part 3: Chapter 14

**Hey folks.**

 **Merry Christmas Eve.**

 **I'll be releasing a new chapter everyday, from now until New Years.**

 **So. Welcome to the beginning of the grand finale of a Certain Holiday Season.**

 **Chapter 14**

10:15 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 9, Beneath the Holographic Gateway

"Do not make a fuss. I prefer quiet as I work." True to his word the Kihara named Raito noiselessly moved away, nearly drifting to a set of monitors and a large, round table, each glowing faintly blue. After fighting that which bound her for several seconds, Mikoto was only just able to piece together that she was being ignored.

But no matter how she tried to make him rue that decision, the lights and data kept pounding into her brain, forcing it down a track she could not deviate from. Just like a sudden movement can make you jump or a mote of dust can cause a blink, she felt herself, body and mind, reacting to the stimulation. And yet, rather than a random one time event that would prompt an act without thought, these were carefully programmed and set up in serial. Each part of her body at all times wanted to jump in multiple directions, the combined result being her own reflexes trying to pull her apart, one set of impulses after another. So that when one ended, another began, and there was always something to block the conscious use of her mind, let alone ability.

This much she was able to guess at, in the small gaps of concentration she could force past all the distraction. And as such, all she could force past her lips was a strangled grunt, cut off as she nearly bit her tongue and earned herself some pain.

But she gained his attention.

"Oh?" He rotated, annoyed but acknowledging an unpredictable variable. "Revise inputs. Input three; she can still move. I suppose more study can be done after all on perfecting the effect. But not now." He spun again, back to floating monitors that now painted a picture of the city, complete with glowing dots and a complicated area of markings and plans. "Output two; the third ranked's reactions show that a strong enough calculating mind may adapt in time to stimuli. Calibration is in order. Output three; this will have implications for how I configure the final fireworks display. Output four; more busy work; what a chore."

Desperate to understand anything, feeling more like a confused student than ever before in her life, Mikoto squinted at the monitors. She could not read any of the information with her extended senses, not even close, but her natural eyes managed to catch an alarming title for the main project file.

"Y... Evel shix?" More than ever she fought to not succumb to the sensory overload lasers and holograms beamed into her eyes. But her outrage was only rewarded with mild confusion on the part of her captor.

"What? I said quiet. And this has nothing to do any more... Oh, yes." Curiosity as to her gaze had prompted him looking higher, up to the title on his floating screen. "I did forget to change that. I had not yet determined a good working name for this revised project. But how do you know...? But still, thank you! How considerate to notice."

Once again, he moved towards her, but this time with all the smug pleasure of a scientist thinking about a particularly useful specimen. Mikoto flinched, or tried to, but her body remained locked in spasmodic rictus.

Then it hit him, but gently, in a soft moment of realization. "Ah, yes. Input one; the third ranked did have a run in with two other Level 6 shift experiments. Input two; she disrupted both. Problematic." The clinical cruelty with which he suddenly was weighing her value was chilling. "Output one; this warrants further consideration. Perhaps I should pursue a different tact that merely locking you here."

"Wh..." She bit her cheek, froze, and then kept going. "...at do you? Wa-ant?"

"Why are you fighting so hard?" His blue-tinged expression was as quizzical as it it was judgmental. "Do not strain yourself, there is no point for such wasted energy now. You must realize..." The scientist paused, frozen like a screen saver. He then had something like a eureka moment, eyes instantly wide. "Oh, Input one; I forgot to provide reasoning and evidence, I assumed it would be clear. Output one; do excuse me, I rarely have guests down here, that is somewhat the point."

He silently snapped a finger, and a floating keyboard appeared before him. He typed away, and Mikoto had a second to see just the word "Entity" wipe out the previous title before he shifted and blocked her view with his now focused gaze.

"Input one; I am Kihara Raito, and I am no longer trying to engage a Level 6 shift. You have no need to worry."

 _Not. That name. No._ "Sssh... Ure. P-p-p-ull otheeer." Her voice may have betrayed her, but Mikoto expected that for just a moment her snarky grimace filtered through.

He did not show it if it bothered him. "Believe me or not. I no longer think that path is needed. Input two; I also oppose the invaders. Yes, I guided you, yes, I saw you and that woman fight, and yes, you were caught in the trap meant for her. But that was merely a limitation of the trap itself, as it is automatic and only targets motion. It is devised to keep people out, not selectively let them through, and I am frankly annoyed that you have ruined what took weeks to calibrate. And I have locked you here now only because I fear you would otherwise destroy more of my facility. Holograms are sensitive to your kind, you know, and you have something a record when it comes to destroying laboratories..."

He stared at her. Mikoto kept her silence, not even trying to speak, even as she fought her mental prison. Yet he waited for something that did not come.

"...Where was I?" He closed his eyes, replaying some footage, before they snapped open again. "Ah, yes. Output one; if you forgive my trap I will ignore your ruining it. Let us make a common enemy. They seek something that will harm this city and disrupt both our desired outputs."

"Wh...?" Biting her tongue helped last time, and it worked again as she tasted blood. "Ne... Vvverrr." _Kihara. No._

The scientist chuckled, chest moving unnaturally. "Input three; I know you do not trust me. But truly, this is in your best interest. After all, I know where all your friends are."

!~~~~~~~~!

10:16 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 7: Apartment Zone S

"It's Kono Toyoharuactually, I just usually go by my... Is that you, Kamijou-kun?" [1] The brown haired Level 3 Electromaster from Touma's second Diamond visit squinted, visibly distrustful of what the dim street lighting was revealing. "I thought you were in England til after New Years?"

"You have a license?"

The young man glanced down at his pocket, patting it awkwardly. "Uh, yeah, I'm sixteen, and for my part time job I managed to get-eh?"

Touma was already racing around to the other side of the car and sliding into the open seat. "I was in England, and though I can't believe it I kinda wish I still was..." He only caught a glimpse of the Power Lifter shambling away before they were off, moving at a fair clip down a quiet snowy road.

"Uh, yeah, I know that feeling. I only had a few days holiday myself, and I couldn't even show my parents what they are paying for, thanks to those damn non-diclosure waivers they made me sign, but at least you got to spend a while..." Toyoharu's nervous speech tailed off as he slowly switched into a politer mode. "But, how are you? What's going on? Where am I dropping you off?"

Touma realized he had no idea. "Drive north, I'll... I barely know myself, but I'll try to explain as we go."

"Sure thing." Toyoharu nodded, and then took off. An alarming display of acceleration pressed Touma back into his cushions. "I guess I can start paying back what I owe both of you now, since you helped my brother and I."

"It was my pleasure, don't worry, I would have done it no matter what. I don't count debts." Touma brushed the words aside along with his unease: the streets were entirely empty, after all. But as he did he tried to remember all that had happened less than a week ago. _That stuff feels like it was ages..._ "But thanks for the lift."

"Don't mention it, this gig was getting boring. Still," The Electromaster shrugged as he spoke. "Need money to fund the club somehow. Speaking of which, how is..." He trailed off, then coughed quietly. "Ah, so what sort of madness is going on tonight?"

Touma looked at his seemingly casual driver. "You already know? Who have you-" They both rocked forward as they hit a red light and we're forced to stop though there was not a single other vehicle on the road. "What have you seen?"

"No, no, nothing, I just had a feeling." Toyoharu drummed his fingers on the wheel. "Hamazura-kun refused to tell me what the deal was, and when I saw you I figured it must be something like the Dianoid. Be too much of a coincidence otherwise." As the two watched, snow began to collect and melt on the car's hood. "Are you some kind of secret security guy or something? Seem pretty young..."

"No, honestly. I'm just a student." The unfortunate boy shook his head as vigorously as his growing weariness would allow. "A very, very unlucky student."

"Don't seem all that unlucky." Touma glanced over, but saw nothing to support the mild jealousy he thought he had heard from Toyoharu. "But I get it. Tight lips and all that, I won't pry. Just happy to repay the debt."

"No, I'm serious, I'm-"

"-Say, is... Aah, uhm." Awkwardly stuttering, having cut off his passenger, Toyoharu stumbled into his request. "Can I help, I mean?"

Touma only stared, mouth open, before sliding down as far as his seat-belt would allow. "Why is everyone so eager to deal with this kind of stuff!"

"I'd just..." Toyoharu shifted gears, both mentally and physically as they were forced into neutral at the ever drawn out light. "Well, since this time my brother is safe, I feel a lot better about it, you know? It's not quite so immediate."

 _Then I better not mention the whole reality looping endlessly thing._

Cheerfully Toyoharu continued, missing the flash of a grimace. "So who are you protecting this time? Speaking of which, is-"

 _Man, who am I not? Seriously it feels like everyone..._ "Everyone."

The engine idled loudly in the sudden silence.

 _Whoops._ "...Which I mean, is, uh..."

"That serious...? The whole City? My gosh..."

Touma grimaced again, castigating his loosing tongue. _Well, at least he only got that far._

"...Now I absolutely have to help. Hang on."

For a moment, tires spun on thin ice as a drive shaft whirred and clunked. Then with a squeal the small but powerful car shot forward, headless the finally green light. Turns began to pass at dizzying speeds as they raced north through Academy City, taking some roads, missing others, and shrieking through stops.

"Sorry for the detours!" The once collected boy nearly shouted with all the thrill of an ardent hunter, eyes searching wildly for a route. "Some streets are blocked for the fireworks and other walking events. That's why the city is so quiet, you know! Good thing you have me! Say, should we warn people? Evacuate or something?"

"Watch out!" Touma twisted the eager face back road-wise as they bounced over a curb. "We don't have to break every rule to go fast and there has to be a happy mediuuuuum here!" He held his breath until all tires hit the road, and the car slowed as unwillingly as its driver. "And no, no panic! We don't even know where to send them, and Anti-Skill should handle that anyway!"

Though reduced to a more sane speed, they still skidded halfway through a surprise blocked down intersection. Small barricades were set up to keep traffic from going further until the subdivision of various high and middle schools.

"What the Hell is this, is this light seriously out?" There was no one there to direct them, but ever present cameras hung from the dark end street poles. Finally Toyoharu spun hard on the wheel. "Fine, we'll go around. Anyway, where were we?"

Touma felt control slipping rapidly away from him. _Quick, change the subject, anything!_ As casually as possible, he leaned against the door, trying to hide the fact he was grasping the handle to facilitate a quick escape. "So. Say, uh, how's your brother?"

"Ah?" Touma was terrified for the second his chauffeur's attention was diverted from the road, but the look was just quizzical, not distracted. "Oh yeah, he's great. Bounced right back, as lively as ever. Keeps talking about it though. I'm just..." He ground his teeth, firey-eyed once more. "I'm glad he's not immediately in danger, but I can't let anything bad happen now that know about this."

 _I wish I hadn't let that slip... But if it's too late, let's just make it better._ "Yeah, you should go to him once you drop me off, and get him-"

"He should be okay at our apartment, it's pretty secure." Buildings raced by as Toyoharu floored it, only relenting for the corners. "Our parents paid for a place that has good security, they don't really trust things here otherwise... And I doubt I can do much for him there when I can actively be useful here. He shouldn't be scared since he doesn't know, so I'll just try to stop this fast."

 _That's not what I was hoping for, but..._ The young man's argument was familiar; even comforting. "...Ah, right." I understand now. It actually makes a lot of sense. "It's easier to fight when you know those you care about aren't in danger."

But Toyoharu frowned. "Maybe. I don't know about easier. Obviously I want him safe, but it's the people I care about who are in harm's way that give me reason to act. Otherwise, honestly, I'd just run and hide with them."

"Really?" Touma felt his impression of his driver spinning doubtfully around his head. "But you were still excited before I told you...?"

"...Why do you think I'm driving you around?" Toyoharu raised his eyebrow, though it was not the most obvious of attempts. "We're not friends yet or anything, but I still can't help but care about this because you are involved. And besides," He said, scratching his reddening ears, "She is too. And I can't be her biggest fan if I'm not willing to fight for that!"

The young man, just a little older than he, was so pumped that Touma almost asked who he meant by she. But of course, with a wistful sigh, he realized he certainly knew. "That's right, Mikoto. I need to-..."

He discovered that what he did not know was what he needed to do.

"I knew it." They braked again, hard for another light. "Damn it. She's in this too huh?"

"It's my fault."

Touma's statement earned him a sudden open-mouthed look. "Huh?"

Yet the boy did not care, expecting fully the confusion, surprised only that he had decided to explain. "Because I relied on her for something I should never have asked, she is in this all too. I put her in danger, and she came here without me, to fight. But now I'm going to go and put it right." _Like it should be._

"Uh. That's great, but," Since they were idling at the light, Toyoharu had plenty of time to scratch his nose. "Wouldn't she be in danger anyway? I mean we don't know everything, but my club and I know she fights crime and does other stuff. And the way you two handled the Dianoid, it was like a Die Hard!"[2] Realizing he was getting too pumped again, he visibly forced himself down to a mild simmer. "I'm worried for her as a huge fan, but I trust she'll be okay. She can handle it, definitely!"

"Even so." _I'm not letting myself off the hook this easily._ "There's no reason for her to be going out there without me, and I'm the one who made it worse: me." _It's easier to just blame myself and move on._ "I trust her, too, completely, Hell, she's much stronger than I am, smarter and braver. But that doesn't mean I can pretend that nothing I can do can hurt her, or that's she's always safe." _Less painful._ "I have to acknowledge when I am the reason she's hurt or hurting. Or that she might be. And I have to do something about it, too. And if that just means I have to go on alone, that's something I'm pretty used to."

For his whole speech, the car and all its interior had receded, like a poorly imagined background shot. But it snapped back into focus with nothing but a small cough.

"Uh... Alone?" Covering his mouth with a fist, Toyoharu was pointedly looking ahead, eyeing the road for once as the light refused to change. "What do you-"

"It's nothing." _I'm not going to let people into my life if I can't protect them. And since I can't do that, it's not a big deal._ "Thank you, but just let me out here, I think I'm far enough. You go to your brother, and take care of him." He reached for his buckle, letting the belt fly as he moved his hand to the door. _I'm sure you're mad at me, for putting her in danger. Maybe almost as mad as she is for-_

A fist slammed into a horn. Shocked, Touma froze, but that same fist became a hand that latched onto his shirt. Toyoharu's face came close, and it was angry in a way Touma was not prepared for. "You're not going anywhere. I'm going to level with you, I'm as annoyed as all Hell. So let me just say-"

Something massive slammed into the car's hood.

"-Yaaaaaaaaagggh!?"

The engine sputtered and died noisily, quickly spouting red flames and acrimonious smoke. They wreathed up and around and through the shadow of that which loomed over their cracked window: two red mechanical eyes glinting in the night, and one hand shaped into a brass spear that screamed down to pierce them.

!~~~~~~~~!

10:19 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 9, Beneath the Holographic Gateway

 _No. Damn. This._

"Yes, those girls you arrived with, and the others in the observatory. Do you not wonder why no real response has been made to this invasion?" A sweep of Kihara Raito's hand was followed by a wave of holographic screens, each one showing detailed summaries and surveillance of agents across town that Mikoto could hardly make sense of. "I have manipulated information and security forces to let you deal with it quietly as you so clearly wish to. And at the same time, I can do science. It is a double positive output situation to keep the standard defense response immobile. Like studying a virus, sometimes you must let an outbreak progress before it can be treated."

He paused, letting his thoughts settle.

"But I am no medical doctor, so perhaps my analogy is imprecise, and a metaphor about something else would be more... Wait, yes! Input four." The bout of rambling utterances ended as he returned to his regimented mode of speech. "I control all observation of these various phenomena this night, especially since the Chairman does not seem interested. I can reveal each targets location and send air strikes to take out invaders and your friends alike. Even that boy-"

A timeless moment of clarity.

None of the distractions being beamed into her mind could keep her from seeing his face.

Her hand clenched. Feeling his.

"-your profile has you tagged as being close to. Input four point one; it seems you did not know he was already here in Academy City, judging by that reaction. I can assure you he, and all the others, are vulnerable. If you do not cooperate, that is."

Mikoto thought, rallied her will as hard as she could muster, focusing on that moment, that single instant of movement. An impulse came to her and she followed it, just as she followed that which stilled her heartbeat a second before.

Her eyes closed. Teeth bit tongue. Thoughts almost made sense again before being blotted out in a burst of even brighter sensations.

"...Input one. Closing your eyes. I do not know how you managed even that in your state, but do not think that will help you." She was certain she could hear his smug expression through it all. "My sensory output holographic disruption system can work through eyelids, sunglasses, and eclipses, and I can raise the intensity to exceed any conceivable counter measure. Now, as to our bargain to work together. Input two: I will momentarily allow the program to let your blink your eyes: all you have to do is blink, Third Ranked, and I..."

Heartbeat. Her heart continued to beat. And then the feeling, an impulse to cry out a name. Her mouth opened, and she twitched. There it froze, but for a second she had moved.

"...Output one. And yet she continues to resist." The tone was troubled now, but then grew dire. "If you must feel the full effects of what my disruption can do, please feel free."

There was no way to prepare, even with all the time given to her.

Everything that was Misaka Mikoto was overwhelmed. Personality, will, effort, dreams; all meant nothing in the face of what bombarded her core, her very conception of action. A million billion motions, impressions, reactions screamed out, crying to be realized in her motion.

But one screamed louder.

Lightning trailed across her brow, just a thin trickle. But it was just enough, enough to distort the beamed rays. For a brief moment, she was back.

She convulsed, pushing forward hard from whatever held her seated. Nothing bound her so she flew to her face, arms unable to catch the fall, and she sprawled on one side. Her eyes snapped open, but before she could do anything more the disruption was back, all the more overwhelming for the fact she could see the room now. Yet in the rush of all those impressions, a beleaguered idea had taken form. Mikoto could not quite think it, but there it remained like a dim memory of someone important.

She could not look back, but the voice of Kihara Raigun was behind her now, startled and uncertain."Input one? Effect weakening, subject locomoting. Input two; no reduction in mental disruption recorded. How? How?" He drifted over her, his face leaning down with intense curiosity. "Input three; overload system targets ability to rationally control body movements, so any motion must be... No, but-"

Another urge, and another surge of motion. One of the many million reactions, grasped and used, so that her leg would kick blindly forward; not as hard as she'd like, or a fast, but he was so close it was nearly certain. And for a second she thought it connected, but apparently was mislead for her foot seemed to pass just before his face. Surprisingly he did not flinch or flee from its sweep, but watched the shoe's arc with supreme interest.

The motion of the missed attack spun her around, away from the rings of floating holograms and the Kihara. The room loomed behind her, and Mikoto saw that all that had been holding her before had been a chunk of the flooring, raising like a pillar. It receded now, smoothly disappearing to merge with the rest of the projectors as the scientist leaned overhead, once again clinically calm.

"...Output one; I see now. Very drastic response. I'm mildly impressed." Another villain might have rudely clapped, but he simply nodded, apparently sincere in his limited praise. "You cede control of yourself to your reactions. Attempt to boost one of my stimulated involuntary responses over the rest. And yet. Output two; while briefly interesting this only serves to throw your body around, without any sort of control or direction. Output three; that may have worked against a lesser scientist." And now he grinned. "But not a Kihara!"

And amazingly, he ignored her. Floated back overhead, to where his holograms doubtlessly hovered. Leaving Mikoto to her devices, and the plan that was growing more concrete by the second.

 _I can't. Tell. Yet._ Thinking hurt, but carefully selected impressions served well enough when properly corralled. _Which, but one. Reaction. Won't be. From my body. Soon. Soon and. Then-_

There it was.

A reaction born from embarrassment, but also pure emotion. A moment, flying towards a Christmas Tree, as a choir of spikey-haired angels sang to her their-

And like a rush it came: the lightning storm.

So much power filled the air, so many fields, that even most of the fibre-optics buried in the floors around her utterly failed, their information degraded to useless noise, static that meant nothing any more to her perceptions. Electricity snaked along, lashing floors and walls, leaving black marks everywhere they trailed. But if her external power was random, internally it was carefully bundled in powerful fields, just around her head as planned. _That disruption ray of his may still be on, but no amount of light can get through this set of fields and maintain information cohesion._ Like a radar array against chaff or a single mom managing a birthday party, it was just too noisy to operate normally. But it was just about possible to operate at maximum output, sending chaff against chaff, noise against noise.

And from the power of her Ability the Kihara known as Raito flickered. But rather than turn, he morphed, instantly facing her, face afire with blueish light. "Input one! What is happening!?" He watched for a second as she stabilized her Ability, piecing it together. "...Input two; you were looking for an impulse that would make you output your maximum power, and then used the disruption in my patterns to gain control? How, what kind person is so willing to trust their basest, most biological instincts!? Gah!" He spat, but nothing came out, sounding more disappointed than angry. "And here I was expecting a fellow human so close to electromagnetic transcendence to see!"

"I... I get it now. What you are." She let her powers loose, filling up her mind with its own particular brand of disruption even more fully as she learned the limits of the sustained attack on her senses. "I couldn't tell earlier, with everything happening, but you're not really here, are you? Actually, wait." In one delicious movement, she raised her finger and fired an aimed burst. The lightning passed through the scientist but it sent his image wavering, sections blotted out and popping back into existence, but his image did not even flinch like a normal person would, even behind a monitor. "That's bizarre, but this really is all you are, isn't it? There is no other you, hiding somewhere else. No wonder my foot missed; you're just a hologram."[3]

"Just!? JUST!?" His foot stamped, but it was an empty, soundless gesture of futility. "Input one! I am not somewhere else, I AM hologram!" He slammed his chest, but where a real man his age would have hacked and coughed, it just stopped, noiselessly. "Input two; I am the Kihara who has transcended physicality and become pure information, immortal and digital and analog all at once, particle and wave duality sentience, Kihara Raito! Input three; light is the ultimate expression of mastery of the physical world, the fastest and most pervasive force, wave and particle combined! Input four; And you dare, you dare! To diminish what I am!?"

 _Ugh._ "That's just sad. I'm a master of electricity, but even I wouldn't want to be it." _But there is something you overlooked, you *******._ "And I have to say, you really screwed up, because you are the worst person on Earth to pick a fight with me." No longer caring about conserving strength, she pushed. Her fields pulsed, grew. And as they expanded, they pushed into him, and he floundered, glitching.

But then he reappeared, holding his head in both hands, outlines blurred with all the blue light he was emitting. "Damn you, you failed experiment! Input five; the Chairman's back-up back-up pet, the useless third ranked! Even though I put no electronics anywhere near this facility, and all the calculations and computing is done remotely and fed down fibre optics to here, you still try to oppose me!?" He did not seem to be in pain, but even so his rage outshone even the emitters that created him. "Output one; just die then if you so wish!"

"What the Hell can you do now, you dumb***? Just stay here, while I give you a lesson on destructive interference." _Without knowing his precise code, I can't completely wipe out his signal. But I can sure as heck make him plenty unhappy. What does he think a hologram can do to me now that-_

The floor came to life. Just like the panel that held her seated, more rose up in great thin pillars, rectangular prisms no wider than her waist. But then with an unreal precision they bent at stiff square angles, filling up the room in irregular tangles of regular protrusions. Yet they did not move, not really; not from side to side or up and down, but rather grew. Panels and structure extended their length every instant. Her mind, so focused on maintaining her fields, was a bit too slow to react to their closing around on every side, preparing to trap her in a solid wall as they grew to fill in gaps.

 _Oh. That._

!~~~~~~~~!

10:21 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 7: near the border with District 2

"AAAAAAAWESOME AMAZING PUNCH!"

Chunks of pavement erupted along with no small number of tumbling bodies, but in a burst of speed Sogiita caught them all. They were collectively was the last group of school girls and adults, now knocked out before he laid them in neat rows under a long row of awnings, organized by uniform.

"Yeah, now this is a gutsy way to fight!" He could not help striking a pose and tightening his bandana with a snap. "Protecting all sorts of mind controlled people, who deserve a rest for their fight! I don't even know 'em but they still don't deserve this. And now to deal with the gutless people controlling them."

But no matter where the strongest Gemstone looked, he could not find the blonde haired girl he knew well enough. There was only Joan, casually dusting off a thin amount of snow she had accumulated on her leather boots, looking around the lot with disdain.

" _Ou est vous, madamoiselle_?" She too was searching, but on level he could not match. "You try to tire me with all this strategy and use their powers and skills against me, but you won't fight yourself? What kind of leader are you?" But she frowned, even her advanced senses clouded, and she held one hand to her head. "And why am I having such a hard time finding you?"

"Oh my. How dangerous. I knew I could protect my girls, and I think one of my strongest Bombs at least is disorienting you." She clicked her remote again as she spoke, gazing down an alley from behind a broken door. "But if I have to keep applying it and still only get this much or an effect, I think sweet little me going down there would put me in big trouble and do nothing at all." Even so thoroughly sure of her own uselessness, her eyes twinkled. "Good thing I have one last pawn to protect the queen and errant king from that knight.(star)"

Mental out was left watching what would soon be a once in a lifetime show, but had someone else on her mind no matter how cautiously she paid attention the scene intensifying before her.

"You'll have to do!" Sogiito rudely jabbed his fingers towards the swords woman, walking closer as he shouted. "I'm fired up now, and want to really push my guts to the limit. If you surrender I'll go easy on you but otherwise, defend yourself from my Attack Crash!"

" _Vraiment_." She eyed her strange foe, looking him up and down, trying to understand him. "I suppose I have stretched myself, and while you may not be as interesting as my _paramour_ , I shall at least be able to prepare for her." And the she smiled neatly. "Who knows, mayhaps defeating you and capturing Imagine Breaker again will draw her out."

"I don't know if I understand all your weird arguments. But I'm the one who has to have a manly brawl with that guy, to explain himself better. Then again..." The seventh ranked gemstone closed his eyes, and displayed a frightening degree of introspection. "Now that I am fighting, my gutsy instinct is telling me you are the one I should really be picking a bone with. What exactly do you have planned, huh?"

"That is none of your concern, i. Though I do wonder. Are you also a Saint, like I am, or is that just your power?" She sized him up, and though a fully grown woman she actually was a little shy of his height despite having substantially more muscle. "How do you do it, I am curious, for you do not seem strong."

"I don't think I've ever even heard of those Saints or whatever, but I am strong." He grit his teeth but bared a fierce grin. "To channel my powers, I grasp all the willpower I have with telekinesis and give it solid form, providing a limitless energy to attack and defend!"

" _Mais... Non..._ That makes not even a little sense..."

"Then I'll just have to show you!"

His battle cry disappeared, was totally engulfed, within a furious storm of rumbling explosions. Ground cratered, walls fell, and a building toppled as the two came to serious blows. Scrambling back to an even safer vantage point, Misaki fled a small hailstorm of debris, shrieking and panting for breath once she was safe.

"Ah... A-Animals!" She shouted back towards the two, but it was entirely for her own satisfaction. With that, and her starring role, done she settled down on a nearby cardboard box, the most comfortable surface around, and mused. Thoughtfully. "Well, my hero. I bought you some time. Maybe another time we can get together.

Though they twinkled just as brightly as those in the sky, her eyes were filled with sadness.

"Someday."

!~~~~~~~~!

10:23 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 7: High School Zone F

Imagine Breaker rang out as it slapped the spear inches before it could gut Toyoharu: little pieces of scrap scattered as most of the arm vanished, but the force of the blow fractured what remained of the cracked and pierced windshield. It had became a spiderweb of safety glass, almost opaque, but still it revealed the ominous shadow of Daedalus, rearing back with a reformed arm for another strike.

"Aaaaaggh!?" Fumbling in his seat, the terrified young man could hardly get his seat-belt off. "What!?" But then he was pressed back as Touma threw himself onto the driver's seat as well, squishing them both.

He shouted, shattering another blow with his fist as it rang out again. "The gas, floor it!"

Touma had almost no need to ask; the violent fear that the attack had instilled in Toyoharu made accidental acceleration almost inevitable. He kicked down on the pedal, and though the engine was dead the gas line opened. What would be suicidal in any other accident, feeding more fuel to the fire, proved their momentary salvation. The flame belched higher, roaring, and as his charred cloak began to reveal metal glowing red the summon pushed up from the vehicle's hood, retreating.

"Now! Go!" In one smooth motion, Touma unbuckled Toyoharu, kicked open the door, and pulled them both to safety. The fire was not yet spreading, but he wasted no time pulling the stumbling young man further, dragging him away, sparing just a second for his enemy. As he watched snow sizzled and steamed at the ancient inventor's cooling feet. But the eyes that followed them into the alley remained as hot and dark as coal.

"What the Hell!? What the Hell was that!?" They had made it only yards before the questions came, and they arrived in a flood. "I didn't-never seen anything-was that a robot!?"

"Just run!" _An ambush? How did he know it was me? No, there was no way, otherwise he would have known he could not pull such an obvious move._ Thinking more clearly, Touma realized they were not being obviously followed. They had only taken a few turns, and he knew from experience how quickly Daedalus' wings could cover ground. But there was no swooping overhead, no twisting tangle of brass mechanics rushing behind them. The school outbuildings that shadowed them were dark and unoccupied, but a few safety lights for alley exits gave enough light for him to see that much.

"D-d-id we lose that robot or drone or whatever!? Holy moly, I mean what the Hell!?" Toyoharu was spending half his time looking backwards, the rest skipping over discarded garbage cans and forgotten rubble. "I didn't even notice a tiny bit of electricity or anything, what kind of technology is that!?"

"Just save your breath and run! I'm sure he's following!" But then a better idea came along as he navigated a particularly poorly placed pile of rubble, taking up most of the path. "Actually, you hide, take that left! He's after me, I'm sure, so go and get to your-"

"No way!" Surprisingly the young man was keeping up, scrabbling over the mound with his face red but feet pounding, following faithful as a puppy. "I'm terrified but no way! If it's made of metal, maybe it's still conductive! If it shows up, I'll try to stun it and you can-"

"We already tried that in London! Look, just-"

Arguing quickly became pointless when the night went even darker. Both stumbled as they stopped as emergency lights and street poles shorted out in patches, their glow fading until the alley and the whole subdivision was lost in blackness dark as pitch. The whole grid had been severed, from main lines to backups. All that remained visible were the clouds, reflecting street lights from elsewhere in the city and highlighting the gaps of sky. It was not nearly enough to guide them any further, even though they were just at the mouth of another side road, huddled around a corner.

"Wh-"

"Shhh!" One hand pinning the other young man back, Touma forced himself to think things through. _What is this, a trap? How did he cut the power? And why would he? Is he trying to listen for us, or does he have some kind heat vision?_ The silent streets gave him no answer. _Whatever, we can't stay here. I've got to him somewhere safe then stop this before it goes any further, then deal with this._

He almost ventured out, trusting fitfully in the darkness as he half-stepped along a wall. But he had gotten less than a foot before a street light, down the far end of the street, flickered on. He thought for a second some shadow moved.

And something else swooped down silently from the sky, but the light shorted again. There was a brief scrape, a grinding screech, and then the sound of shattering glass as the street pole was felled like a sapling. And then it was silent. But up along the sky line, something flashed. To others, it would not have stood out, but to Touma the small arc of lightning was too familiar to miss. And this was all as he took the gasping Toyoharu and dragged him further down the street, away from the action, to hide within a darkened

He spoke in a soft whisper, mentally praising his ally. "...That's a good idea. Keep drawing him away, then we can move and regroup."

"T-that's not me." Though it was nearly impossible to see, Toyoharu was shaking his head, both hands raised. "I know, I'm an Electromaster, but it's not, none of it! I can't reach that far as level 3, not that easily."

 _So why are the lights out? Who did that? It can't be..._

Lowering his volume even more, the esper was almost impossible to hear. "It'd take a team of me to manage something like this, and even then it'd be tough. But..." A note of wonder filled his voice. "Not for Misaka-sama."

It was almost too good to be true. But the pieces were lining up too neatly. _Could she really..?_

From down a distant street, a shadow was cast; almost immediately it was extinguished, followed by a burst of rending metal and gunfire.

And at the same time, their small little section of street was illuminated.

But it was not from a street light, a building, or even a car which had stumbled into the otherwise empty section of District 7. It was a figure holding a flashlight, illuminated by a second, gesturing them towards to a brightened alley. Both boys were frozen by the silhouette; a short skirt, despite the weather, a more sensibly winter coat, and shoulder-length chestnut hair.

 _Oh. I'm... Oh. What do I say? What do I...? I'm not ready for this I'm not but there-_

He was ripped back to reality: Toyoharu had thawed, warmth and hope filling his heart as he took hold of Touma's shoulder. "S-see! C'mon, there she is! What a hero, right on time!"

Touma fought against the motion pulling him towards destiny, the dread weight of uncertainty in his gut holding him back, knowing he had no idea what to expect or do. But rapidly events caught up to him, and he realized his luck was taking a different course than even he could expect. _Wait, if that was a gun I heard back there, then-!_ "Hold on," He whispered, far harsher than he should have. "Stop, stop, stop, that's not her, it's-!"

But it was too late. They were in the alley, staring at a near perfect replica of the girl he was seeking. All that marred the image was the heavy set of googles atop her brow, the somewhat glassy eyes that meant them, and the collapsible sub-machine gun held lightly at her side.

"...Misaka Imouto. I'm saved." ... _So why do I suddenly feel disappointed? And now worried... Something's wrong here._ Touma sighed, but resigned himself to what was clearly too late to change. So rather than hide the sisters which should never be known to the world, he pulled the stunned young man along with him. For his part, Toyoharu was stiff with shock, both at the weapon and the appearance of his suspected idol. She cocked the weapon, idly discarding a clip as she stared at Touma's face with piercing intensity.

"'I must take you further in, by which I mean the alley, we're not safe here is what I mean, nothing else untoward.' Misaka says, heart aflutter at the meeting she was not at all prepared for." Yet the girl coolly turned on her heel and moved deeper, letting the flashlight which brought them forth lead the way. Quickly they were away from the street, and touching her hand to a conduit Misaka 10032, recognizable only by a Gekoto badge pinned to her waistline, powered a single emergency light. It flickered into power, illuminating Toyoharu's confused face.

"What... Who... Imouto? But she's... No, wait-"

"This all makes more sense, if you're here." Trying to ignore the constant stream of failed sentences sputtering from the young man behind him, Touma considered the blackout in a new light. "This is you girls, right? Are you okay? Have you been fighting him this whole time?"

"'Yes, and I was adequate before but am feeling much happier now.' Misaka says with what she worries is too much honesty." Her face did not even flicker, though perhaps the red on her cheeks was not entirely from the cold. "'We did not expect it to be you who came through the perimeter we established with road blocks and outages, but perhaps we should have despite knowing you were with the original in London.' Misaka acknowledges with a tinge of jealousy."

"Who is... This isn't...? Original... We? Eh?"

"Look, please, I need a favour." Touma jerked his thumb back at Toyoharu, who was now leaning against the wall questioning the world. "You've been keeping others out, so can you escort him somewhere safe? He's got a brother to take care of, so before the others get here-"

"Is that who I think it is?' Misaka asks with all-consuming interest and alarm." But though identical to the first, this voice came from above.

Before the boy with Imagine Breaker could even sigh, two more girls dropped down, sliding with sparks down a steel drainage pipe. Two more copies of the girl he was searching for, and two more heart attacks for Toyoharu.

"'It is, and 10032 has been monopolizing his attention; this is against the pact.' Misaka warms, ensuring her eyes are sufficiently narrowed so as to convey her implicit threat."

"It's not implicit if you-Nevermind!" Touma had to fight to stop from shouting as things spiralled out of control. "It's great to see you all and all that, but you have to keep a lower profile!" _Of course, it's too late for that, huh? Oh she is going to be pissed when she finds out._

"More? Twins, Triplets! What is even happening!?" Overstimulated, Toyoharu collapsed atop a cardboard box that then collapsed beneath him, but facing the mirror imagies "This night is just too much!"

Touma turned to look back at the boy, seated almost as if he was lounging in the middle of the alley, but instead found his eyes drawn over and behind him. "...If that's the case now, please don't turn around and look backwards."

Of course, Toyoharu did, and as if staring into a true mirror saw three more identical copies of Misaka Mikoto, each staring and shuffling in their coats.

"'I did not expect this chance encounter with the savior at all.', Misaka says, flustered as she tries to hide the dirt gained from this battle."

"'You are always the luckiest one, 10032.' Misaka complains, unsure whether to be overjoyed or angry."

"'But who is this, and why is he here ruining this chance?' Misaka anxiously asks."

The silence became deafening as each of six clones realized they were not just alone in a back-alley with Kamijou Touma, but also another boy. Each stared at him now.

"...I have to ask. But..."

 _Here we go._ "Look, Toyoharu-san, I can-"

"When I died just now, did I go to Heaven or Hell? Because between the ten of you and the monster, I just can't tell any more." [4]

!~~~~~~~~!

10:24 P.M., December 31st: Academy City, District 9, Beneath the Holographic Gateway

The pillars that had been floors slowly expanded, like a reflective, hologram emitting mold stretching all around her. Yet even though Mikoto was using a great deal of power just to keep up the fields which insulated her mind, and her reflexes were only narrowly quick enough to let her slip through a crack before it sealed shut around her, there was no more room in her heart for doubt. Her Ability, her conviction, so filled her up that even as the walls moved without pause to entrap her again, she flipped a coin from her pocket up into the air.

"Take your damned holograms, and get-" The Railgun fired. "OUTTA MY HEAD!"

There was very little on Earth sturdy enough to survive that bolt of plasma. The pillars were eviscerated or melted down to their constituent bits. And it seems that was all it took; most of the movable panelling that had come to life had apparently not grown at all, but in truth shifted from the walls and ceiling, a thin layer of mobile projectors, tiny robots whose number had now been cut nearly in half.

They retreated, and Mikoto felt for a moment a change in the forces assailing her minds; then the attack collapsed outright, and the Kihara known as Raito reassembled before her, face now impassive.

"Stupid girl. Input one; you have forgotten my threat. One command-"

"You won't." Her face was as calm as his, but Mikoto's held the hint of a smirk. "After all, killing the intruders; that would end your little science project. I know your type. After all, you must still have a plan to make it work out anyway, even if I'm not out of the way."

His bluff called, the scientist froze, so long that Mikoto nearly assumed he glitched. But when his lips moved again, they moved with a smile. "...Output zero. Very well. But this is also the Kihara way!"

With astounding speed the layer of projectors vanished, squeezing down the hallway Mikoto had come from like a shadow. The cavernous room was just unremarkable concrete now, the only markings scorch marks and a shallow crater on the opposite wall from her attack.

And so the girl sighed, holding her head. _That was... I don't even know what that was. But there's no time for reflection, did he leave any information? Anything?_ Yet her initial assessment proved correct; the only sign that anything in the Kihara's chamber had even been more advanced than a cave were thin tubes of fibre-optic cable, whose ends were levelled with the surface of the stone. _So he beamed data here from some other location, but I can't really back-trace a light source unless I already know where the cable goes. And I won't know that, unless..._ No matter where she looked, the room was well and truly empty, but the hallway through which he had escaped prompted a plan.

She headed for it, stumbled a moment, but then broke into a jog, eyeing the passage walls. There were many side tunnels, with most being too small for egress, but there was one that was plenty big enough if she crouched. Hoping for the best she did just that and peered inside, generating just enough lightning at her finger tips to see deeper in.

 _...When this place was built, he may not have been a hologram yet. And even if he was, someone or something laid down the physical infrastructure. So even if he is completely mobile, and has no need for storage or excess of any kind, I bet someone would have..._ And there it was, a round object casting a shadow down the long and featureless pathway; a spool of wound cable, sitting half-empty and discarded on the floor. "Aha. Extra cabling."

It took only a minute for the Level 5 to return to the main room and find another of the fibre ends that had enabled Kihara Raito's laboratory. When she found it it was as flush as the rest, smooth with the surface of the floor, but when she generate enough heat to fuse it to the end she of the cable she had discovered it was a swollen mess of plastic. Though she worked carefully, she still looked at the shoddy job with worry.

"...I'll just have to hope this works."

She hoisted the rest of the spool under her arms. And then she ran, back down the tunnel, spooling a line behind her like Ariadne's thread as she escaped the labyrinth.

!~~~~~~~~~!

[1] I think I may have screwed myself on this one. I think I had always intended him to want to be on first name basis with most people because he's so friendly, but I forgot if I kept that consistent... Oh well! That's for editing later.

[2] I only realized upon writing this chapter that the plot to Part 1 is basically just Die Hard. So... There's that. Here I thought a Christmas time heist plot in a big tower was unique. Take that, me.

[3] I'd been planning this reveal for a while, and tried my very best to make sure it was not too unexpected. The blue-tinted glow he was always described with, the fact none of his movement made any sound, and then finally his holographic associations, all hinted to his condition. In fact, his name even mean "Light". I hope it's not too confusing, but given how far other Kihara's have gone to in making themselves their science, I feel like Raito might honestly be tame to settle for just being light. As for his attack on Mikoto, I am assuming that if Espers need focus to work, then constant impulses to not focus might really messed them up. The way I wrote it, it'd probably screw up anyone.

[4] This is actually the second longest call back I have had planned nearly all this time. All the way back when I first thought about making an Electromaster side character who idolized Mikoto, I wondered what he would do upon meeting her sisters. In fact, at the time of writing him, I had already decided this would be three full parts, so perhaps it is nearly the longest. But there is something a little more... Connected, I shall say, coming up in several chapters, that only the savviest of readers will guess at.


End file.
